


Unexpected Destinies by otp_destiel

by liveloveandlaughs



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-09-28
Updated: 2010-09-28
Packaged: 2019-07-07 03:01:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 204
Words: 595,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15899565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liveloveandlaughs/pseuds/liveloveandlaughs
Summary: They thought It was over. They thought they'd averted the Apocalypse. They thought they'd won. They were wrong...





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> ATTENTION! This is clearly not my work but otp_destiel's  
> I copied it here admittedly without the author's permission hence why it's so hard to find (those who manage to find it, seriously how? Only way I can think of is to log in to your account and search its name). Reason why I did this is cuz for peeps without data like me reading the massive fic is terribly hard so ao3's lovely entire work function is very useful. If you find this fic, please understand that this is purely for ease of reading (and mostly for myself at that cuz damn it was actually hard to transfer it over). Thanks.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Sam and Samuel get to Lisa's house, they don't find what they expect to.

**Present**  
  
  
Sam's first thought when he was given the djinn antidote and told what had happened to him was of his brother. Dean, in his new life, was completely vulnerable and the perfect target. Given that these were the offspring of the djinn they'd killed years ago, there wasn't a single chance that they wouldn't go after him, even if he were still a hunter.  
  
The realization had sent them all hurtling towards Lisa Breadon's house as fast as they could. Sam's heart had been pounding all the way and in the old days, back before he'd discovered what dicks angels were and what a deadbeat God was, he'd have been praying for his brother's safety. None of them had dared to mention that they might be too late, that all they might find was a corpse. Though he was now rusty and vulnerable, Sam clung to the fact that his brother had once been a decent hunter and had faced a djinn before even if it hadn't been his brightest hour. It wasn't like they were talking about a completely helpless civilian here and Sam just had to believe that it would be enough. That Dean would be able to hold on long enough for them to rescue him.  
  
When the car had pulled to the side of the road not far from Lisa's driveway soon after dusk, Sam had been out of the door before it had even fully stopped. Quickly and silently, he made his way towards the house, knowing the others would follow and trusting them to watch his back. From the shelter of a convenient tree, he observed the house. At first glance nothing seemed out of place, but for some reason his internal alarms were ringing louder than ever.  
  
Something wasn't right here. Something was wrong. Something was horribly wrong.  
  
There was a car in the driveway, Sam couldn't immediately tell what it was, but he did know that it wasn't the Impala or anything else his brother would ever be caught dead driving. It also wasn't the car he'd seen parked in Lisa's driveway the last time he'd stood in the shadows, stealthily watching this very house. So whose car was it? Had Lisa gotten a new one? Were she and Dean entertaining company? It didn't look like it, but most of the curtains were drawn and thus it was hard to tell.  
  
"It looks peaceful," Samuel whispered as he appeared at Sam's side.  
  
It was all Sam could do not to jump. Damn but his grandfather could move silently! Even after spending the better part of a year with the man, he still couldn't hear him coming if the man didn't want him to.  
  
"Something's not right," Sam stated, not taking his eyes from the house before him.  
  
"How can you tell?"  
  
"Instinct."  
  
The answer seemed to satisfy the older hunter and he signalled wordlessly to the others before motioning Sam forwards. Together they stealthily made their way closer, careful not to stay in any unshadowed areas for long so no neighbors who just happened to glance out of the window would catch sight of them. When he was finally pressed up against the side of the house, Sam made his way round back where it was darker away from the streetlights. He made his way towards a window whose light spilled out onto the lawn where the curtains weren't pulled closed as well as they could have been.  
  
With one last glance around, Sam slowly raised himself enough so that he could cautiously peek in through the window. The sight that met his eyes left him speechless. There, laying on the couch, curled up with a book, was Lisa, her head resting in a man's lap.  
  
A man who wasn't his older brother.  
  
Sam felt his heart stop as he realized this. That wasn't Dean sitting in there with Lisa, reading his own book with a hand absentmindedly running through her dark locks. That was someone else. Someone who wasn't Dean. Which meant... He only just caught the pained and disbelieving cry that threatened to erupt from his mouth.  
  
"What's wrong?" Samuel demanded, voice harsh. "Are we too late?"  
  
"No," Sam replied, looking at his grandfather with dismay in his eyes. "He's not there."  
  
"What do you mean? He might just be in another room."  
  
"No, he's not," Sam said with certainty.  
  
Damnit, it wasn't supposed to be this way! Dean was supposed to have settled down here. He was supposed to have been building himself a normal, safe life away from his little brother and the world they had grown up in. He was supposed to have been doing what Sam had witnessed him doing when he'd come by here after first getting out. What the hell had gone wrong? So help him, if his brother had turned tail and run or decided to go back to hunting, he'd strangle him. Dean had promised him he'd get out. He'd promised him he'd make it work with Lisa. It had been his dream life.  
  
Sometimes Sam really didn't understand his brother at all. Dean had been given the golden opportunity here and he'd gone and fucked it up yet again. He'd probably gone and convinced himself that he wasn't worth it and then proceeded to ensure that reality was twisted to meet what he believed it should be. Damnit but Dean's self-hatred and lack of self-esteem were a right pain in the ass sometimes. He'd have thought his brother would have outgrown them by now, given that they'd won the Apocalypse and all, after all who could rightly say that they'd played a part in putting away Lucifer and still think himself worthless?  
  
On second thought, no, it made perfect sense. Of course Dean would be capable of believing that, Sam realized. His big brother's self-deprecation had reached previously unheard of proportions towards the end there, which, combined with the fact that he'd only played a small role in stuffing Lucifer back in his cage despite all of the prophecy and hype that made him out as being the most critical player, could have combined to make him feel unworthy of what he'd been offered here.  
  
And the worst thing was, Sam really should have seen it coming. He should have predicted it. It wasn't like his brother had been hale and whole for a very long time now and he'd definitely not been entirely stable since he'd made that thrice-damned deal of his. No, Dean had been broken long before the end so Sam should have known that he wouldn't act like a normal person would.  
  
"There's another man in there with Lisa," Sam continued. "Dean's gone."  
  
Samuel cursed violently beside him. "Then where the hell is he?"  
  
"I don't know," Sam replied, fear creeping in as he realized that he had no real clue what his brother would have done after he'd wrecked this relationship.  
  
He hadn't contacted Bobby, that was for sure or the older hunter would have told Sam. No, last he knew, Bobby still thought Dean was here, with Lisa and Ben.  
  
Where on Earth would Dean have slinked off to lick his wounds now that his dreams lay in ruins?  
  
"I just don't know."


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean fails to cope with what happened in Stull Cemetery.

PAST  
  
  
 _Sam screamed as Lucifer plunged the knife into his chest and, with one vicious yank, pulled it down to his groin. His intestines fell to the ground with a squelch to land in a steaming heap._  
  
"No!" Dean screamed, voice wrecked.  
  
His wrists were raw and bleeding from all of the frantic tugging and straining he'd done, but Dean was still as securely tied to the rack as he'd been when Lucifer had first placed him upon it. Despite the fact that he knew from personal experience that there was absolutely no way off the rack unless his torturers took him down, he continued to try, desperate to get free and help his little brother. Lucifer had been toying with Sam for what felt like hours already and he couldn't stand to just hang there and watch. He'd tried closing his eyes earlier, but the devil had simply cut away his eyelids and threatened to do the same to Sam if he so much as looked away.  
  
The noises Sam was making now no longer sounded human, at least not so as anyone who'd only lived on Earth would understand them. To Dean, however, they were horribly familiar, both from when they'd issued forth from his own throat and from the countless souls from whom he'd dragged them himself when he'd stood in Lucifer's place. And that was the worst of it, knowing that he had done everything that Lucifer was doing to Sam and that he'd done it with a smile on his face and pleasure coursing through his veins.  
  
Even as he watched, Dean could see Sam starting to heal again, being prepared for yet another round with Lucifer. The anguish pulled sounds from his own throat that he hardly recognized. They were different from the noises that he'd made when in physical pain and were a thousand times worse. There had to be something he could do to help his brother, to save him from this. Seeing Lucifer step back towards the rack on which Sam hung, Dean screamed and-  
  
-hit the ground hard as his restless tossing and turning sent him over the edge of the small bed.  
  
The sudden, jarring impact stunned Dean for a moment, the transition from nightmare to reality too abrupt for his mind to process. But then his brain caught up with what was happening and it was all he could do not to retch right then and there. Oh God, it had seemed so vivid, as it always did, and he'd felt like he was right down in Hell with Sam.  
  
Dean didn't know what was worse, actually being there, tied to a rack of his own, or being stuck up here, knowing that his baby brother was down there, being tortured right this very moment. Unable to decide, he pushed himself into a sitting position and reached up to grab the two bottles of Jack standing on the table by the bed. The first was already open and just over half empty, the contents having been his nightcap, a desperate and obviously futile attempt to keep the nightmares at bay.  
  
He wasn't even sure why he tried anymore as experience had taught him that alcohol really didn't ward off dreams. Let it never be said that he wasn't a stubborn bastard though and Dean knew only all too well that he could be more than a little slow on the uptake at times. Not that it really mattered in this case. These past few years he'd found that there was only one reliable way for him to sleep peacefully through the night if he dreamed and that was for Cas to put the whammy on him. And that way was a bust as he hadn't seen the angel since that horrible day where he'd lost everything at once.  
  
In the weeks since Cas had left and returned to Heaven, Dean had not only come to terms with his friend's decision but had come to see and agree with the reasons behind it. How many times had he raged at God for the way he'd allowed everything to get so out of hand up there? For having simply upped and walked out, leaving his kids to muck things up not only in Heaven but on Earth as well? He, for one, had long since lost count and he doubted even God, despite all the expressions people had that boiled down to 'only God knows,' knew the answer himself. Like God even cared what one pathetic and insignificant human who couldn't do the simplest things right thought.  
  
Yeah, he wasn't stupid enough to think that God gave a damn about him, no matter what bullshit prophecies the angels might have believed. It wasn't like they'd been right in the end. Dean snorted at the thought. So much for the one who started it being the only one who could end it. More like the only one who could end it the way they wanted it ended. Dean couldn't believe he'd ever even entertained the mere possibility that he could have any kind of chance of ending the Apocalypse. How could he have, being as broken as he was? Famine was right, there was nothing inside of him, Lisa had seen that clearly enough. He'd done his best with her and Ben, he really had, but there was only so much the shattered shards of a broken soul could do and it hadn't been enough.  
  
Dean didn't really blame Lisa for telling him that it wasn't going to work. There was only so much misery and pain someone could deal with and there really was no reason for herself and Ben to be dealing with his. They'd not really done anything wrong, their only crime being to take him in. He'd be the first to say that it wasn't their burden to bear and it had been pure selfishness on his part to even inflict it on them in the first place. Well, that and the promise he'd made Sam.  
  
The thought sent another wave of agony through him and Dean sobbed before he could stop himself. Images from the nightmare and those from countless other nightmares flashed before his eyes and he took a large gulp of the whiskey as he tried to block them out. It didn't quite work, he wasn't even sure if there was enough alcohol in the world to do so, but he was determined to keep trying. It was better than sitting around, doing nothing, as he watched the devil take his brother apart a million different ways and times.  
  
And that was the worst of it, the fact that he hardly had anything else to do but drink to ensure that he wasn't just sitting around doing nothing. All that time he himself had been in Hell, Sammy had been desperately trying to get him out, to save his sorry ass and what could he do in return? Nothing, apparently. He'd done everything he could think of, looked up every source of information about Hell, Lucifer and the thrice-damned Apocalypse that they hadn't already explored before and all for naught. There was simply nothing out there on how to save someone from Lucifer's cage.  
  
All the while, Sammy was down there with not only the devil himself, but with that dick Michael as well. There was no telling what was being done to Sam and coming from him, that was saying a lot. Dean had first-hand experience of what it meant not only to spent time in Hell, but to be tortured there as well. Yet, for all of that, he wasn't trying to delude himself into thinking he had even a clue as to what his little brother was going through at this very moment. As experienced as Alastair might have been, there was no way he could possibly have had anything on Lucifer when it came to torturing humans.  
  
Dean hardly made it to the toilet before he vomited. It was over pretty quickly all things considered as he had hardly anything in his stomach other than whiskey and he knew that he had no right to grant himself even this little reprieve, not while his brother was suffering so horribly. He pushed himself up and dragged his sorry ass back to the bed and the nearly empty bottle even as Sam's voice echoed through his head. He couldn't quite place the memory, but Sammy was trying to tell him that things were never quite a bad as they seemed.  
  
He wanted to snort, to snarl back some witty retort, but he had to admit that there was a bright side to this situation, hard as it could be to find. Dean had never put much faith in the saying that things could always get worse, but right now he had to admit that it was true.  
  
He could have been completely out of Jack to drink himself into unconsciousness with.


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean gets a visit from someone he'd never expected to see again.

**PAST**  
  
  
The hot water felt good on his sore muscles and Dean stayed in the shower until the water started to cool. Getting out, he carefully dried himself, once again cursing the damn poltergeist. He was going to feel this hunt for at least a week and a half, not to mention that it would put him out of commission for the next few days. Although Dean wanted to do nothing more than to just throw himself into the next hunt, he knew he couldn't. Shit like that would just get him killed and he couldn't do that to Sammy. If he died, there'd be no one to get his brother out of that goddamn cage.  
  
The mere thought caused Dean's stomach to clench and he tied the towel around his waist with more force than necessary, absently wondering why he even bothered. It wasn't like there was anyone present who cared or would mind if he waltzed into the room butt naked. But he couldn't, it felt too much like admitting that Sammy was never coming back and  _that_  he just couldn't handle. It might take him a while, but he was getting his brother back, promise or not. It wasn't like Sam had kept his promise not to use his powers, so Dean felt no guilt breaking his. Besides, it wasn't like he was entirely to blame. He  _had_  gone to Lisa and given it- the normal life- a go and found that he just wasn't any good at it.  
  
Dean opened the bathroom door, stepped out into the main room and froze in shock. There, standing calmly at the end of the two queen beds (he couldn't bring himself to ask for a single yet) as if he'd never left, was Castiel.  
  
"Hello, Dean," Castiel said, turning to look at him.  
  
"Cas," Dean replied, dumbly.  
  
What the hell? What on Earth was Castiel doing... well, on Earth? The angel had made it quite clear just before he'd left that he was needed in Heaven and that there was a lot of work to do up there. And Dean got it, he really did now. It had actually become a comfort after a while, knowing that Cas was up there, taking care of things and ensuring that his brothers and sisters didn't start another Apocalypse. In his mind, Cas had become everything that God should have been and he now regretted his harsh words to the angel that day even if his anger at God hadn't diminished any.  
  
It wasn't until Castiel glanced down at his chest that Dean remembered that all he was wearing was a small, threadbare towel.  
  
"Uh... what are you doing here?" Dean blurted out the first question that popped into his head.  
  
And that was such a stupid thing to say. He hadn't seen the guy in two months and the first thing he did was make it sound like he didn't want to see the angel.  
  
"I came to speak with you," Castiel stated.  
  
Clear, direct and to the point, as if his question hadn't been so rude. Yeah, he'd missed that about him, Dean realized. Actually, now that he allowed himself to think about it, he'd missed a hell of a lot more than just that about Cas, including just feeling his presence.  
  
"Oh, been here long?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Dean blinked, looking up from the clothes he'd pulled from his duffel. "Yeah?"  
  
"The shower turned on just as I arrived."  
  
"I see," Dean said, surprised the angel had waited so long, he'd stayed in there quite a while.  
  
"You told me not to enter the shower anymore when you're in it," Castiel reminded him.  
  
"Yeah, thanks for that."  
  
That had been an awkward scene and Dean still flushed at the memory of it. The worst of it was that if he hadn't been so afraid his body would react and give away his secret, he'd have really enjoyed the startled expression on the angel's face. But then Cas' eyes had looked down, innocently taking him in and he'd started yelling. It had been the only thing he could think of to do before Castiel's close presence started affecting him as it so often did.  
  
Dean had no problem with the desire Castiel awoke in him, he'd known he was bi since he was a teen, but Cas was an angel and his friend and there was no way he was doing that to the poor guy. The angel was still a virgin for God's sake and he remembered only all too well the freaked expression on his face in the brothel. No, Castiel didn't need to deal with Dean's perverted desire for his rescuer on top of everything else he already had on his plate. Unfortunately his yelling had attracted his brother's attention and the Sasquatch had, of course, found the entire situation hilarious while Dean had been left with the task of explaining to Cas why he couldn't just appear in the shower with a human.  
  
The knowledge that it was futile to ask Castiel for some privacy had Dean pulling his boxers on under the towel before he quickly pulled on the rest of his clothes, feeling more like his usual self as he did so. The memory of Sam's laughter the day of the shower incident hurt, especially knowing that his little brother was now doing anything but laughing and he desperately sought to distract himself from it.  
  
"Hey, how'd you find me anyway?" Dean demanded, touching his chest. "Aren't the sigils still hiding me?"  
  
"They are, which is what has prevented me from finding you sooner," Castiel stated. "You left Lisa's without telling her where you were going."  
  
"Yeah, well, you don't normally tell someone who's kicking you out where you plan to go, even if you know," Dean muttered.  
  
He  _really_  didn't want to talk about this.  
  
"Lisa kicked you out?"  
  
Of course Castiel had never allowed something like that to stop him. Though it was entirely possible that he simply hadn't picked up on the sentiment in Dean's tone.  
  
"I don't want to talk about it."  
  
"Why would she do that?"  
  
It was the sheer incredulity and complete lack of understanding in that question that stopped Dean from snapping at the angel. It touched something deep inside of him that he hadn't even known existed. He'd been faced with so many people who doubted him and thought him weak, including his own brother, not to mention that he'd failed at so much these past few years that Cas' inexplicable and misplaced faith in him was a constant source of wonder. Especially now. He'd been so sure he'd lost it all pulling that stunt with Michael that it was an unbelievable relief to know that he hadn't. On the other hand it showed how completely he'd managed to mess up the angel if he couldn't understand why Lisa had felt it better for Ben if he wasn't around.  
  
"Cas, I'm fucked up," Dean stated, rushing on to explain before the angel could voice his protest. "I drink too much and can't express myself properly. I have nightmares almost all night, every night, waking up kicking and screaming. I could hardly tell her anything about what happened and you of all people know how good I am at letting people in. Factor into that the fact that all I've got is a goddamn GED and no references and all you've got left is a broken shell of a man. I'm surprised she let me stay as long as she did. Lisa and Ben didn't deserve to deal with that shit and it was selfish of me to foist it onto them."  
  
Dean didn't see Cas move, but the next thing he knew, he was pressed up against the wall, the angel's hands fisted in his shirt and Cas' furious face inches from his own.  
  
"You are  _not_  broken and fucked up," Castiel hissed.  
  
The tone reminded Dean eerily of their second meeting, in Bobby's kitchen. He could still clearly recall the angel's threat to throw him back into Hell.  
  
"Cas-"  
  
"You are not," Castiel insisted. "Do you really think I would have brought you back wrong?"  
  
"No, I-"  
  
"Or that I can't see your soul even now?"  
  
Dean's mouth froze halfway to starting a response to that question. He'd always suspected that Castiel might be able to see his soul, but he'd never known for sure.  
  
"You didn't know," Castiel deduced, startled.  
  
"Not for sure."  
  
"I can."  
  
"Yeah, I get that now."  
  
Castiel was still standing as close as he had when he'd first shoved him up against the wall and Dean wanted to shift away, to put some space between them, but wasn't sure if that was such a good idea.  
  
"Dean, your soul is as bright and whole now as it was when I first raised you," Castiel declared. "If not more so."  
  
Dean snorted. "So why do I feel so empty?"  
  
The question seemed to hit Castiel like a blow and he stepped back but Dean felt none of the relief he'd expected to with the desired increase in space between them.  
  
"I don't know," Castiel said, tone almost sad.  
  
Dean shifted uncomfortably, feeling trapped against the wall but not yet ready to brush past the angel to gain more room. Plus he had this sudden fear that if he moved too far away, Castiel would vanish and never come back like so many others in his life.  
  
"Hey, wait a minute, you spoke with Lisa?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"You were not there and I needed to find you," Castiel explained simply.  
  
"So how'd you find me?"  
  
"Susan Matters."  
  
"Huh?" Dean asked before the name clicked. "Wait, is she that chick I saved last week?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"How'd she help you find me?"  
  
"She prayed for you."  
  
"What?"  
  
"She prayed for your safety," Castiel said. "She feared for you given your line of work and wanted us to keep an eye on you."  
  
Dean snorted, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. "How'd you get my location out of her?"  
  
"I visited her in her dreams and after she told me what she knew, I started my search."  
  
"Humans are kinda hard to find that way."  
  
"Yes, but cars are easier, especially one as distinctive as the Impala."  
  
"You found me through my baby?"  
  
"I knew if I found her, you couldn't be far away."  
  
"Why didn't you just call me?"  
  
"The voice says I'm out of minutes."  
  
"Oh, I'll get you some more. If you're going to be around that is."  
  
"I will."  
  
Castiel was frowning and looking around the room now. This was good in that the angel moved a little further away and Dean was able to move away from the wall, but bad in that it was horribly reminiscent of another motel room where Cas had done the exact same thing, looking for any traces of Sam. Dean shut off that line of thinking immediately before he began to think of other things related to his brother.  
  
"What are you looking for?" Dean asked.  
  
"Where is Sam? I don't see any of his stuff."


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean learns a wonderful and horrible truth.

**PAST**  
  
  
The question hit Dean hard and he staggered back.  
  
What the Hell?  
  
He- That- Just-  
  
Shock and pain blossomed within him. After all of his careful mental gymnastics today to prevent himself from thinking about exactly where his brother was, Castiel had destroyed it all with three little words. And the worst thing was is that this wasn't an accident. This wasn't a case of him running into someone from the past who innocently inquired about his brother's whereabouts, not knowing the truth. No, this was Castiel, who knew damn well what had transpired in Stull Cemetery and precisely where Sammy was right now.  
  
"What the Hell?"  
  
The shock and pain morphed rapidly into rage and Dean launched himself at the angel without thought.  
  
"You son of a bitch!"  
  
Castiel staggered back several paces as he collided with him and that only served to further fuel Dean's anger as he knew the angel had done it on purpose in order to protect him. Well, tough shit, he should have thought of that before he'd opened his mouth.  
  
"Dean, what?"  
  
Dean, however, wasn't having any of it. "You goddamn son of a bitch!"  
  
He tried to fight, to land some blows, consequences be damned. Actually, no, he wanted the pain, but Castiel wasn't allowing him to get it. He wasn't sure if the angel had merely gotten better at hand-to-hand (he was a quick learner in most areas) or whether it was his new and improved Grace, but Dean's fists just weren't connecting with anything. Then, in a move that had to be Grace powered, Castiel manoeuvred them so Dean was flat on his back, hands restrained above his head and legs pinned down under the angel's weight where Cas sat on his thighs.  
  
"Dean."  
  
With emotional pain rearing its ugly head yet again, Dean refused to give up so easily and continued to struggle though he knew it was futile.  
  
"Let me go, you bastard!"  
  
"No."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I will not let you up until you calm down enough to stop trying to injure yourself."  
  
"Goddamn-"  
  
"Dean."  
  
"Fuck you!"  
  
"What's wrong?" Castiel inquired. "What have I done?"  
  
"What have you done?" Dean laughed, harsh and bitter. "As if you don't know!"  
  
"No, I don't."  
  
"Sam!" Dean cried out, sagging against the carpet. "You asked about Sammy as if you don't know damn well where he is."  
  
"Dean, I-"  
  
"What? Want to hear me say it, admit it? Fine, he's in Hell, dammit, trapped in a fucking cage with your two dick brothers and Adam."  
  
The most peculiar expression crossed Castiel's features, but Dean was in no state to decipher it.  
  
"You don't know," Castiel said softly, shocked.  
  
"Know what? What he's going through down there? I may not have been at Lucifer's mercy, but I think I have some idea of what Sam's experiencing even now."  
  
"No, it's-"  
  
Castiel trailed off, relaxing his hold on the hunter's wrists. Before Dean could think of trying anything, one of those hands was touching his cheek, cupping his face gently. This time the expression on Castiel's face froze the words and anger in his throat. A feeling of dread started to form in the pit of his stomach as he shivered at the feeling of foreboding that suddenly raced through him.  
  
"Cas?" Dean could hardly even recognize his own voice just then, it was so full of dread and fear.  
  
"Dean... Sam, he's... he's out, Dean."  
  
"Out?"  
  
"Of Hell," Castiel said, knowing the hunter needed to hear it said aloud. "He's no longer trapped in the cage with Michael and Lucifer."  
  
Dean could only stare at Castiel in shock and disbelief as the implications of what he'd said slowly sunk in. "Sammy's out?" His voice was small, fragile, full of impossible hope. "He's free, alive?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Castiel's tone was strangely gentle, like his touch, and it caused the feeling of foreboding to worsen. The angel was normally so stoic that it was almost impossible to read anything from him unless you knew him really well. Like really, really well. Now, though, Dean had no problem telling that his savior was nervous about something, which didn't bode well and he swallowed thickly, absently noting that he was probably in shock.  
  
"How?" Dean demanded. "Did you- did you pull him out?"  
  
"No, I didn't and I don't know how it was done. All I know for certain is that it wasn't done by any angel in Heaven or at Heaven's command."  
  
"Do you think it was God?"  
  
"I- I don't know," Castiel replied, drawing his hand away and making as if to rise.  
  
Dean's own hand shot out and grabbed hold of Castiel's shirt and tie, preventing the motion. With his other hand, he pushed himself up so he was seated on the ground, the compromising nature of their position completely lost on him as his instincts screamed at him that something was wrong, horribly wrong even as his emotions were fairly singing with relief and unconstrained joy.  
  
"What aren't you telling me, Cas?"  
  
Castiel's gaze locked onto his own and Dean lost all sense of time. Sam (his heart skipped a beat at the very idea that he  _wasn't_  suffering eternal torment in Hell right now) had always said that they could stare at each other for minutes on end but it had never seemed that long to him, so he wasn't sure if he believed the sasquatch.  
  
"Dean, your brother, he... he has been out for nine weeks now."  
  
The words stole Dean's breath from him and he could only stare at Castiel as coldness spread within him.  
  
Nine weeks.  
  
That was-   
  
Nine weeks ago he'd still been at Lisa's; he'd still been where Sam would have expected him to be. Nine weeks ago, Sam could easily have found him as soon as he'd gotten out. That was more than he'd had when he'd first gotten out of his coffin and still the first thing on his mind had been to go find his brother.  
  
So why hadn't Sam come to him? Why hadn't he sought him out? Didn't he want to see him? The mere possibility was like a knife to the gut and Dean felt his body jerk as if he'd really been stabbed.  
  
"Dean?"  
  
Castiel's voice was questioning, concerned, and Dean thought he could feel hands on his shoulders, but it was distant, as if it belonged to someone else's meatsuit and he was gaining the knowledge secondhand somehow. As it was, it was almost entirely drowned out by the roaring in his ears, by the frantic pounding of his heart, and the sucking sensation of the bottomless pit that had just opened in his stomach. The latter felt like it was making a desperate effort to suck whatever tattered remnants of self Dean still had left and he wondered absently why it bothered, it wasn't like they were worth anything. Not even really worth fighting over and he was half tempted to just let it have them. Not like they were doing him any good.  
  
Nine weeks.  
  
God, nine weeks of horrible nightmares and unending torment. Dean could safely say that he'd had not a moment's rest, not a second of peace, since not only Sam, but Adam as well, had fallen into that goddamn hole in the ground, going far deeper and further away from him than the mere six feet most people would assume they'd be. When he'd lost them, he'd lost the last remaining family he had left.  
  
Family.  
  
It should have been a comfort, it should have meant safety, warmth and home, but now... now Dean suddenly wasn't so sure.  
  
 _Nine goddamn weeks._  
  
With a flash, Dean was reminded of his little sojourn into Heaven with Sam. Of his baby brother's Heaven; an unending string of memories spent either with other people or of getting away from him and Dad. Was that what this was? Had Sam gotten out and seen this as the perfect opportunity to get away from him? To escape in a way that would ensure that Dean would never come after him because he wouldn't even know that Sammy was alive and well?  
  
Pain spread through his chest at the mere thought and Dean found that he couldn't push it aside. What was it that Sam had said? Oh, right, family didn't mean the same to him as it did to Dean. Okay, yes, he could see how having no memory of Mom could make it harder for Sam to see family in a traditional sense, but goddamn it, he'd done his best. Ever since that horrible evening, he'd done his utmost best to give Sammy everything that he needed. Yeah, he knew it wasn't perfect or even anything near to what Sam had deserved, he'd fucked up often and he'd be the first to admit that, but dammit, he'd tried! Surely that had to count for something.  
  
Apparently not in Sam's eyes.  
  
Nine weeks.  
  
God, couldn't Sammy have given him something? Even just a little token or indication that he was okay? That he wasn't still trapped in Hell with the devil himself? Dean found it hard to breathe just thinking about all of the pain and anguish he'd gone through worrying about Sam when all the time his little brother was alive and well and had simply chosen not to let him know about that.  
  
He-  
  
Blissful darkness suddenly rose up and swallowed Dean whole.


	5. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The consequences of the truth.

**PAST**  
  
  
"Dean?" Castiel asked, worried.  
  
The hunter's breathing was starting to accelerate and come in short, quick bursts that Castiel doubted were good for him. His voice clearly failed to penetrate whatever thoughts were currently racing through Dean's mind as it went completely unacknowledged. The change in breathing was accompanied by a change in heart rate and he could feel it racing beneath his hand as he clasped Dean's neck, attempting to make the hunter look at him. Although he succeeded in turning Dean's head, his plan failed as the familiar green eyes were glossy as if focused on something far away that he could not see.  
  
Castiel silently cursed the younger Winchester for doing this to his brother and tried to think of what to do next. Dean was clearly being torn apart by the truth he'd just learned and he half wished to take it back but knew he could never do that to his charge. Much as the knowledge hurt Dean, lying to him would only have hurt him that much worse when the truth eventually came to light, as it inevitably would. He didn't understand why Sam would keep his return from Dean, but he knew that there was nothing that could justify it.  
  
Then, before Castiel could try anything else, Dean's body suddenly went limp and the angel's hand at his neck was the only thing stopping him from slumping to the floor and hitting his head.  
  
"Dean!" Castiel exclaimed urgently.  
  
His other hand reached out and carefully brushed the hunter's forehead, tendrils of Grace reaching out to assess his condition. What Castiel got back was a miasma of swirling emotions and physical demands. It would appear that Dean had once again been ignoring his body's need for sustenance and rest in favor of drinking far too much. The betrayal, anger and deep-seated pain lingered even as his mind shut down under a combination of emotional stress, lack of oxygen and bone-deep fatigue, all enhanced by a lack of nutrition and too much alcohol.  
  
Relief swept through Castiel that nothing more sinister was at play, though he despaired of Dean's inability to look after himself properly. It was swiftly followed by anger that it had been within Sam's power to end his brother's torment two months ago and he had, for some unknown reason, chosen not to do so.  
  
With an effort, Castiel pushed the anger aside and instead focused on getting his friend into bed. Gently, he shifted Dean so that the hunter's head was resting against his shoulder before he slipped his other arm under Dean's legs and then he rose effortlessly to his feet. For all of the hunter's bluster and sheer presence when awake and riled up, he was nearly weightless in Castiel's arms and he had a hard time reconciling his precious burden with the man he'd seen stand up all but fearlessly to demons and archangels alike. It caused a wave of protectiveness to wash over him and he vowed not to leave Dean alone for so long again. He'd thought he was granting the hunter what he wanted, to start a normal life unencumbered by the supernatural and reminders of what had been, but he'd clearly been wrong.  
  
Castiel could still not see why Lisa could have wanted anything but to have Dean around, but she obviously had and Dean had been cut off from his dream and left completely alone. That ended now. He would not have Dean alone, even if he had to rearrange how he performed his duties in Heaven, he would see to it that he was able to spend time with his friend as the hunter deserved so much better than what he'd gotten.  
  
He lowered the human to the bed as easily as he'd picked him up off the floor and then Castiel frowned. Normally Sam and Dean got changed before going to bed, though he had seen them simply fall asleep on top of the covers in their clothes as well. Deciding it was probably best to leave Dean as he was, Castiel pulled the covers over his friend and then brushed his fingers across the hunter's forehead, sending him into a deep, dreamless sleep. Briefly, he hesitated before lowering himself onto the opposite bed which he'd assumed to be Sam's.  
  
In the past, he'd often used the time the Winchesters slept to fly off and do other things, but Castiel was strangely reluctant to leave Dean alone now. Not only had he just sent the hunter into a far deeper slumber than was normal for him, but Dean had proven himself to be more vulnerable when asleep and inebriated, as testified by the time it had allowed two hunters to sneak into his and Sam's room and kill them. The mere memory of finding their bodies the way he had, tore at Castiel in a way he wasn't familiar with and he tried to push aside the pain, focusing on the sleeping human before him.  
  
Despite all odds, Dean was still alive and, if not well, then at least whole and uninjured. That was more than Castiel had dared hope for towards the end and he figured the rest could come in time. The memory and pain were, however, enough to make him decide to remain and watch over Dean as he slept. He could use the time to start altering how he ran things in Heaven.  
  
With a twist of his Grace that was only just starting to come naturally to him, Castiel reached out towards the angel that had quickly proven to be invaluable to him when he'd returned to Heaven.  
  
"Xarael."  
  
It was something only an archangel could do, establish contact with only one, or a select few, angels. All the others had to make do with speaking to everyone at once.  
  
"Yes, Castiel?"  
  


* * *

  
Dean groaned, pain being the first thing to penetrate his consciousness. And penetrate it, it did. His whole body ached like he'd gone one-on-one with Ali or something stupid like that. Oh, no, wait, that had been a poltergeist if he wasn't mistaken, he had a vague recollection of being flung about like a rag doll before he'd managed to gank the little fucker. Which didn't explain why his lungs ached. Yes, he'd had the wind knocked out of him, but this didn't feel like that, no this felt like he'd been oxygen deprived, which he couldn't remember having happened.  
  
The thought that the memory might be missing because he'd lost consciousness was quickly discarded as Dean knew he'd been alone on the hunt. If he'd passed out, he'd be dead. Besides, he could clearly remember the satisfaction he'd felt on finally killing the thing, so that didn't fit. Then what? And what the hell was that goddamn awful taste in his mouth? Had he forgotten to brush his teeth before he crashed?  
  
The memories trickled in slowly at first- Cas, Lisa, sigils, wall- but then they hit a nexus- Sam- and exploded out from there.  
  
Nine weeks.  
  
 _Nine._  
  
The number rolled in his head for a moment, the horror, pain and realization from before returning to him in a rush and then it was his stomach that was rolling. Acting on instinct, Dean dashed from the bed, nearly falling flat on his face as the sheets snagged on his left foot, and crashed to his knees in front of the stained porcelain god just as the meagre contents of his stomach made a reappearance.  
  
He heaved for a few minutes, alcohol and bile mixing in his mouth and the bowl as Dean tried to stop but failed. He felt strangely weak as if he'd been sick and was only just starting to get better. He hated it, but could only accept it as he tried to control his rebelling stomach. This was also doing nothing for the aching in his lungs.  
  
Well, on the positive side, he'd gotten rid of the bad taste he'd had in his mouth. On the down side, he'd simply replaced it with another one. Didn't that just figure? Life sucked and why was he still constantly surprised by that? You'd think he'd have learned his lesson a long time ago. But, yeah, he'd never been the brightest crayon in the box, so perhaps it wasn't really all that surprising.  
  
With a wave of utter exhaustion, Dean let himself go to slump over the toilet. Or, at least, that's what he should have done, but it wasn't happening despite the fact that he was no longer holding himself up. It was with that realization that his surroundings slowly started to come into focus. He became aware of the sickly yellow illumination from the room's crappy lights, the not quite white color of the tiles beneath his knees, the smell of mold and bleach, the sound of a soft voice whispering reassurances in his ear and the feel of a strong arm wrapped around his chest, pulling him back against an equally strong chest.  
  
What the...  
  
"Cas?" Dean croaked.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"You passed out."  
  
The words were said calmly as a matter of fact and Dean swallowed the impulse to argue with them, to state that he didn't faint. But what was the point? He was too tired to argue and he knew that it didn't really matter. Castiel wouldn't even know why he'd take offense to the words and, even if he did, he doubted it would matter. The angel simply didn't understand those types of notions.  
  
"You must take better care of yourself, Dean."  
  
Dean snorted as he closed his eyes. It would be so easy to allow himself to drift to sleep again right here. Though he was kneeling on the cold, hard floor, his back was pressed up against Cas' chest and the angel had an arm wrapped around him. It made him feel safer than he had in far too long and he didn't really want to think about that too closely. Besides, how often did this type of opportunity present itself?  
  
"Yeah, I'll keep that in mind."  
  
There was a gentle brush of fingers across his forehead and suddenly all of the pain was gone, both from his encounter with the poltergeist and from his desperate quest for oblivion. Surprised, Dean opened his eyes and twisted to look at the angel.  
  
"Not that I'm not grateful, but isn't that like an abuse of your powers?"  
  
The corners of Castiel's lips twitched upwards. "There is no longer anyone to tell me what I can and cannot do and I dislike seeing you in pain. I am only sorry that I didn't catch it earlier and spared you this."  
  
"Oh that had nothing to do with the pain," Dean said as he reluctantly got to his feet and flushed the toilet.  
  
The abrupt reminder had destroyed any chances he had of going back to sleep as the truth gnawed at him. The betrayal, pain, anger and complete lack of understanding rose within him once more, only this time Dean was aware of the fact that it was making him hyperventilate.  
  
"Dean," Castiel was at his again, hands grasping his shoulders.  
  
"It's okay, I got it," Dean said.  
  
With an effort, he forced his breathing back to normal, not wanting to pass out again. But the pain, it was something terrible, hurting worse than anything he'd ever experienced before. More so than the last time. Dean suddenly felt something freeze within him as he realized that this was happening  _again_ , despite all of Sammy's promises and assurances to the contrary. God, what had he done to deserve this? And from his own brother whom he'd looked after his whole life.  
  
Yet, despite all of that, Dean found himself unable to suppress his old instincts. The ones that cried for him to seek out his little brother; to make sure that Sammy was okay.  
  
"Where is he?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Sammy, where is he right now?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"What do you mean you don't know?"  
  
"He is hidden from me like you are," Castiel touched his chest in reminder. "I only know of his resurrection because of the disturbance it caused."  
  
"Disturbance?"  
  
"Yes, that type of action cannot be hidden."  
  
"There has to be another way then, I have to find him," Dean insisted.  
  
It was only because he was looking directly at the angel that he caught it, the slight hesitation that crossed Cas' face.  
  
"Cas."  
  
His tone left no room for misinterpretation, not even for Castiel. He needed to see Sam and he needed to do it now. Yes, there was a part of him that was crying out at the injustice of what his brother had done to him, but Dean tried to ignore it. Just like he tried to ignore the blinding pain that went with it.  
  
All this time... all those weeks that he'd thought Sammy was stuck in Hell with Lucifer, being  _tortured_  by Lucifer. All those weeks of nightmares and recriminations, of self-doubt and failure. All those weeks of mental anguish and agony, thinking he'd not only failed his baby brother in Lawrence but was continuing to do so every single goddamn day where he failed to find a way to break him free. All those weeks of torture, of being trapped in his own personal hell, and all for what? For a brother who'd gotten free just one week after his imprisonment and who hadn't even bothered to come find him and let him know?  
  
"Sam's resurrection isn't the only odd occurrence that has happened," Castiel said gravely.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"About the same time someone brought your brother out of Hell, Heaven was attacked."  
  
"Attacked?" Dean repeated in disbelief. "How? What were they after?"  
  
"Not what, who," Castiel corrected. "Whoever it was that attacked knew what they were doing. The attack was directed at the human section of Heaven, the place where souls go when they arrive to spend the rest of eternity in peace. They also seemed to know where the soul they were after was going to be."  
  
"They wanted a soul? Why?"  
  
"To resurrect, apparently."  
  
"They succeeded?"  
  
"By killing two of my brothers."  
  
The sadness in Castiel's tone surprised Dean. Yes, they were his brothers, but so were the angels that Castiel had killed during the Apocalypse and yet he'd never seemed to feel this much sorrow then.  
  
"They were not dicks," Castiel stated, correctly following his train of thought.  
  
"No?" Dean asked skeptically.  
  
As far as he was concerned, there was only one angel that wasn't a dick and he was standing right in front of him.  
  
"Dean, I know you have had only bad experiences with my brothers and sisters, but most are not like that."  
  
"Could have fooled me."  
  
"Many in Heaven were horrified to learn what had transpired when I told them," Castiel said. "They had thought they were following orders from Father, transmitted down the chain of command as always."  
  
"And they didn't think anything odd about what was happening?"  
  
"Dean, they didn't know the full extent of matters. If you recall, I was unaware of everything until such time as Zachariah deemed it necessary for me to know. Many of my brothers and sisters only knew as much as they had to in order to accomplish their assigned tasks."  
  
"Preventing the right hand from knowing what the left hand was doing," Dean muttered.  
  
It made sense, far too much sense, actually. If you wanted a bunch of angels to do something God probably wouldn't have approved of, then the best thing was the ensure that only a few realized what was going on. How many angels had he interacted with who really seemed to know Zachariah's end game? Raphael, Michael and, perhaps, the various lackeys Zachariah'd had with him almost every time he'd visited. Uriel definitely couldn't have known what his superior was planning or he'd never have interfered as his and Zach's goals partially overlapped, at least until Lucifer was freed.  
  
So, could it really be true that the majority of Heaven's angels had been nothing but dupes in this whole fiasco? Dean wasn't so sure he believed that. Granted, some probably were, but the vast majority of them? That just seemed a little too convenient.  
  
"Okay, so who'd they snag?" Dean demanded.  
  
Castiel paused again, but only for a moment. "Your grandfather."  
  
"My- which one?"  
  
"Samuel Campbell."


	6. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean learns about Samuel and Cas' plan to find Sam.

**PAST**  
  
  
"Samuel," Dean repeated, closing his eyes.  
  
He could still vividly recall Azazel possessing his grandfather and stabbing him in the gut with his own knife. Of all the ways for a hunter to go, it was a pretty crappy, if predictable, one. Anyone who hunted the supernatural had an increased likelihood of being possessed and purposefully killed by the demon doing the possessing. The demons liked the irony of doing so, especially when they could do it in front of family or friends. It had been a wonder to him that the demon possessing Sam hadn't done so until he'd discovered that it was Meg and learned of her intended end game.  
  
Although he wanted to be happy that his grandfather was back, Dean had learned to know better. "That's not a good thing, is it?"  
  
"No, it is not," Castiel confirmed. "I have endeavoured to discover who has done this and why, but so far I have been unsuccessful."  
  
"Well that's just great."  
  
"I do, however, know that Samuel is as unaware of the reason for his resurrection as we are."  
  
"Whoever it is didn't tell him?"  
  
"No."  
  
"How do you know?"  
  
"He and the others were discussing it one evening when I went to investigate."  
  
Dean sighed as he took in this new information. Two resurrections, one from Heaven and one from Hell, in rapid succession following swiftly on the heels of the end of the Apocalypse. He didn't need anyone to tell him that wasn't good.  
  
"While I was there, I noticed some of Sam's stuff, so I assumed that the two of you had found Samuel," Castiel continued.  
  
The words derailed Dean's train of thought. "You think Sam might be with Samuel?" he blinked. "And that's not going to get confusing at all."  
  
"I believe it is a distinct possibility, yes." A pause. "On both counts."  
  
"And you can find Samuel?"  
  
"I made sure to... I believe you would say tag his soul to ensure that I will always be able to find it swiftly if necessary."  
  
"Great, let's go."  
  
"Are you sure you want to do this, Dean?" Castiel inquired.  
  
"Yeah, of course. Why?"  
  
Dean forcefully ignored the little voice in his head that tried to make itself known. It didn't want to go see Sam, it wanted to stay as far away from him as possible so that he couldn't hurt them anymore.  
  
"I just don't want to see you hurt any further."  
  
The admission made Dean swallow but didn't diminish his determination any. "I need to see Sammy to- just to make sure he's really okay. Cas, please."  
  
"Very well, but I'm going to take us in hidden, so that they can't see us."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because the last time there were other hunters about and I don't want you getting shot by accident when we arrive."  
  
"Ah, yeah, thanks."  
  
He'd gotten so used to Castiel popping in and out all of the time towards the end of the Apocalypse that Dean had forgotten how badly he used to react to the angel's sudden appearances. Getting shot by a fellow hunter just as he was getting to see Sam again was not his idea of a good way to go.  
  
The next moment Castiel was in his personal space, fingers raised towards his forehead.  
  
"Ready?"  
  
"Yeah," Dean replied though he wasn't sure he could ever be, not for this.  
  
The trip wasn't nearly as jarring as Dean expected and he hardly even felt a twinge in his gut.  
  
"It would appear that archangels are better able to modulate the effects of flying on humans," Castiel said at Dean's startled look.  
  
"Oh," Dean said. "So no constipation?"  
  
"Your bowel movements should remain normal, yes."  
  
"Great."  
  
They were in a darkened room in what appeared to be an old, abandoned warehouse. Or at least it looked like it had been abandoned for some time before people had moved in again as tools, guns and knives littered various surfaces. Dean felt his heart clench at the sight. Those were hunter supplies and more than would be necessary for just one or two people. What was going on here? Had Sam and Samuel joined another group of hunters? The thought hurt, to think that Sam would not only not seek him out, but that he'd then gone and joined a random group of hunters, especially when so many of them had wanted him dead for his part in starting the Apocalypse...  
  
"Sam is here," Castiel said, head tilted as he listened to something Dean couldn't hear. "There are five people in total."  
  
"Great. You sure they can't see us?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"What about hearing us?"  
  
"Dean, we are completely hidden from their perception."  
  
"Just like that?"  
  
"No, it requires a great deal of effort to cloak a vessel so completely from the perception of others, much less another human, but you're making it very easy, accepting my Grace readily."  
  
Dean frowned, now that just sounded wrong. "Kinky."  
  
If he were human, Dean was sure Castiel would have sighed just now. As it was, it looked like the angel was close to strangling him. He smiled, taking it as a small victory. At least he could still enjoy a few small pleasures.  
  
"Your soul, Dean, it is letting me do what I need to without any resistance," Castiel explained.  
  
"It is?" Dean blinked.  
  
That was a little surprising. Sure, Dean trusted Cas, but still, for his  _soul_  to just accept the angel's touch so easily, without him even being consciously aware of it, was startling. He must trust Castiel even more implicitly than he'd realized. Or did the feelings he'd been developing recently have something to do with it?  
  
"More easily than I've ever seen. It is probably because I have held your soul before."  
  
"You think it recognizes you?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Castiel's eyes had shifted to his shoulder where his T-shirt hid the scar. Dean shivered at the intense look in the angel's eyes and silently bemoaned his luck. Of course he had to go and like a being who had no concept of personal space or his own appeal. He could just imagine the confused head tilt he'd get if he were to say anything to that effect.  
  
The sound of voices and laughter reached him then and his heart lurched as he recognized Sammy's protesting tones. His first response was relief, Sam really was okay. The next, inevitably, was hurt. it was pretty clear that whoever was with his little brother was teasing him in a familiar manner.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Sam said. "Just wait till next time, dude."  
  
"Won't happen, Sammy, I'm not stupid enough to fall for that kind of shit," a male voice replied.  
  
Sam's reply was lost on Dean as soon as he realized it wasn't a complaint at the use of that nickname. Sam hated it when he called him that and was almost always protesting it. So why was he allowing this other hunter, this stranger, to call him that?  
  
"You running away?" this time the voice was female and about their age if he didn't miss his guess.  
  
"Just putting my laptop away," Sam stated, paused and then continued. "Until the next lesson that is."  
  
"Very subtle, Sam."  
  
This voice Dean did recognize. Although he hadn't known his grandfather for very long, hardly a day when all was said and done, the experience had been notable enough to be forever etched into his memory. Then Sam was in the room with them and all of Dean's attention was focused on his little brother. He looked okay was the first thing Dean noted. There were no visible wounds on him and he moved with the ease of one unencumbered by pain.  
  
Or grief.  
  
Or guilt.  
  
Dean shoved the two thoughts aside as he continued to greedily drink in not only his brother's appearance but the very radiance and essence of it. Here, at last, was the physical proof of what Castiel had told him. It wasn't that he didn't believe the angel, but a part of him had a hard time accepting such a miraculous truth without seeing it with his own two eyes. Good things just didn't happen like that in his experience.  
  
And that was the crux of the matter, now wasn't it. Good things just  _didn't_  happen like this, not without one hell of a price tag. In the case of his resurrection, it had turned out that the head honcho angels had needed his meatsuit in order to achieve their goals. So much for all of Castiel's thoughts on people 'deserving to be saved' and all that other crap. He somehow doubted that the angel was still naive enough to believe any of that after what they'd gone through. Although, on second thought, Dean suddenly wasn't so sure of that. At least not when it came to him, Castiel seemed to have a serious blind spot when it came down to him. He'd have to see about correcting that later if he had the time.  
  
It wasn't lost on Dean how his mind kept going off on tangents, almost as if seeking to avoid having to deal with the bigger issue here. Yes, now that he'd seen for himself that Sammy was not only out of Hell, but hale and whole as well, it only made the other issues, the ones he'd desperately been trying to shove aside, that much worse.  
  
"I'm just saying, Samuel, if you want to live and work in the twenty-first century you're going to have to learn how to use computers and the internet," Sam stated, putting his laptop on a cluttered table.  
  
"I'm not arguing with you there," Samuel replied, appearing in the doorway. "I'm just saying you clearly lack the ability to be subtle."  
  
Dean only partially registered Sam's insulted expression- and wasn't it a kicker that gramps agreed with him on this issue that Sammy had always considered himself to excel at?- most of his attention focused on his grandfather. What the hell? In his, albeit limited experience, resurrected people tended to look the way they had when they'd died or better. But Samuel... Samuel didn't. He looked older and, dare he say it?, frailer than he remembered him being.  
  
"Cas?" Dean inquired.  
  
Castiel, however, looked equally puzzled, frowning at the older man. "He did not look like this the last time I saw him."  
  
"That's not normal, is it?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Any idea what's causing it?"  
  
The look Castiel gave him was all the response Dean needed and he cursed. That was just great, really. What more did they need then resurrected relatives who seemed to be changing unnaturally? As if they didn't already have enough to deal with figuring out  _how_  they'd gotten resurrected in the first place. Or by who.  
  
"I can be subtle," Sam's tone was petulant and Dean wanted to smack him on principle. "When I want to be."  
  
"Not like your mother could be," Samuel countered, a fond yet sad expression crossing his face. "Well, when she wasn't showing her spunk and sass. And speaking of spunk and sass, we need to talk about Dean."


	7. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes ignorance really is bliss.

**PAST**  
  
  
Sam sighed and looked at their grandfather as if they'd had this conversation before and suddenly Dean didn't want to be here. He didn't want to hear this, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from them. With a sudden horrible clarity he knew that he wasn't going to like what came next no matter how much he wanted to know  _why_  Sammy hadn't come to him or just let him know that he'd gotten out.  
  
"Samuel," Sam stated as if trying to stop it before it even started.  
  
"No, Sam, I mean it. I've given you some time to get used to being back and Dean to get settled into his new life, now don't you think it's time you told him the truth?"  
  
"No," Sam said flatly and it was like a sucker punch to the gut for Dean. "This is what he wanted, the life that he wanted."  
  
Dean felt his jaw drop at the words. How could Sam say that? Sure, he'd wanted to settle down and have a family, a normal life, but not like that. Not at the expense of Sam. The whole time he'd been in Cicero, the whole time he'd been with Lisa and Ben, he'd wanted nothing more than to have his brother back. To know that Sammy was not only okay, but happy as well. Maybe then he'd have been able to just settle down and be happy, but not like it had been. Never like that and how on Earth could Sam even think that it could have been okay like that? With him thinking that his little brother was undergoing relentless, eternal torment?  
  
Not to mention the fact that he'd been completely unable to find a job. Or at least not one he could face doing long term anyway. Everything had been so mundane and mind-numbing, not to mention the fact that he'd missed being able to genuinely help people, but all of those jobs required a higher degree than the crappy GED he had. Not that he had any desire whatsoever to try and rectify that. He'd always hated school with its inane classes and pointless rules and had taken pleasure in dropping out to help Dad on hunts or to look after Sam. Hell  _researching_  had been better than having to put up with one more lecture on how he'd never get anywhere in life if he didn't 'apply' himself. He did apply himself, just to what was important.  
  
The simple line froze Dean in place. To what was important. Amazing how radically the meaning of those simple words had changed since then. At the time, what was important had been Dad, Sam and hunting, saving people. Now, although Sam had still been on the list, the rest had seemed to have fallen away, either out of necessity or just due to a change in his priorities. Or at least so he'd thought until he'd been unable to find a job that didn't involve helping people and that appealed to him. Lisa had suggested going back to school long enough so he could apply to the police academy. The suggestion had left him flabbergasted for a moment before he'd nearly died of laughter. Just the thought of him becoming a real LEO, with his criminal record, had been too much.  
  
"People can hunt and have a stable family life," Samuel stated. "Just because your father moved you around all the time doesn't mean that it has to be like that."  
  
"Yeah, and look how well that worked for you."  
  
A muscle twitched in Samuel's jaw and Dean could briefly see the pain and guilt in his eyes before it was hidden. "I'm not saying that it's without risks, what happened to Deanna and me is proof enough of that, but that doesn't mean that it has to be like that. The Campbells have been doing this for generations, I was serious when I said that your ancestors were on the Mayflower, killing vampires. They were hunters, Sam. You come from generations of hunters, hunters with families."  
  
"It's still a greater risk," Sam insisted.  
  
"Than what? An average person who's never hunted? Yes, though you and I both know that they're not entirely safe from the supernatural either. But riskier than it is for a hunter that's stopped hunting? No, that I don't think is true. Just look at what happened to your family."  
  
"That was different, Azazel targeted us because of me."  
  
"No, he targeted you because of your mother, he was choosing the parents, he had no other way of making the deals in time as it takes ten years for them to come due."  
  
Dean blinked at that. What his grandfather said was true, Azazel couldn't have known what the kids would be like, hence the reason he'd probably had so many of them. It was just that with the whole Lucifer vessel thing he'd lost track of that. But what were the odds of Azazel selecting the one child marked to be the devil's vessel, even it was merely one among many he chose? He'd never liked coincidences and this was far too great a one for his tastes. If it was true, though, it could explain why Sam had been one of Azazel's favorites as the demon had probably sensed some of it within his brother.  
  
"Besides, he never would have met your mother at all if she hadn't been hunting, so my argument stands."  
  
"He selected her while she was still doing it, it was just bad luck that the consequences occurred so much later."  
  
"That's exactly what I'm saying, you never know what you've done during your time as a hunter that will come back to haunt you later. Maybe it's already happened. Maybe something has already marked Dean for vengeance and it's just biding its time for whatever reason. In that case his being out of the life won't actually matter, it won't save him and the ones he's with, in fact it might hurt them as he'll have lowered his guard and have no one to watch his back."  
  
Dean shuddered at the thought of having been at Lisa's in that type of scenario. It was something he'd never fully allowed himself to consider, but it had been there, at the back of his mind, most likely influencing his behavior he now realized. No wonder he'd been able to feel truly relaxed if he'd, even subconsciously, been pondering what he could be bringing down on Lisa and Ben.  
  
Again he was aware of the fact that he wasn't allowing himself to think about what Sam was saying and, more importantly, about  _why_  he might be saying it. But, well, denial and shoving aside that which he didn't want to think about had served him well so far, so Dean now saw no reason not to continue doing so now.  
  
"You don't know Dean," Sam started, almost dismissing all their grandfather had just said. "If he finds out I'm back, he'll just leave Lisa and Ben, no matter how much he might like being there. He'll just give it all up, not even considering a compromise like what you did."  
  
"That's a little egocentric, don't you think?" Samuel replied.  
  
"No, it's not. Dad basically conditioned Dean as far as I'm concerned and it's so ingrained now that he still follows it unquestioningly."  
  
Though there was pain, Dean finally felt something else, namely anger. The ghost of one of their old arguments was enough to fan the flame a little. Why did Sam always have to come down so hard on Dad? All the man had ever done, all he'd ever wanted, was to protect his family and ensure that the thing that killed Mom didn't come after them too as he'd always feared it might. Or rather that it didn't come after Sam. And so what if he felt that looking after his little brother was important, it was because he loved him, not some darker thing like Sammy was currently trying to make it out to be.  
  
"Look," Sam sighed. "I know you've met Dean, but you don't really know him. Trust me on this, it's better that he doesn't know that I'm back. Bobby, that friend I mentioned before who knows both of us really well, agrees with me on this."  
  
The revelation was like a bombshell and Dean could only stare at his brother as the pain, once again, ripped through him. Bobby knew? Bobby knew that Sam was back- that Sam had been back for  _nine_  weeks now- and he hadn't told him? Over the years, he'd come to think of the older hunter as almost a second father and he'd have liked to think that Bobby thought of him as a son. That he might understand him.  
  
Obviously he'd been wrong. Horribly wrong.  
  
"I don't get why you continue to insist on trying to contact this guy."  
  
It was the male voice from before, the one that had been teasing Sammy, and Dean turned to find a man a bit older than himself standing in the doorway. Even without knowing what he did, he'd have been able to peg him as a fellow hunter. He'd never quite figured out what it was about the hardcore hunters, the ones who were in it for life, but there was something.  
  
"Christian-" Samuel began.  
  
"No, I'm serious. You keep pestering Sam about him and I just don't get it. I mean he clearly couldn't handle the life, so why bother dragging him back into it?"  
  
The words struck Dean like bullets. Couldn't handle the life? He'd handled the life just fine and for over two and a half decades, thank you very much. So what if he wanted something more? That didn't make him any less of a hunter.  
  
"Dean," Castiel said, laying a hand on his charge's shoulder. "Perhaps we should go, you don't need to hear this."  
  
"Yes, Cas, I do," Dean forced out between gritted teeth.  
  
"Dean."  
  
"Cas."  
  
If it wouldn't have meant taking his eyes off Christian and his grandfather, Dean would have met Castiel's gaze head on to let the angel see his determination.  
  
"Because he's a hunter and we need everyone we can get," Samuel stated. "You've seen what's starting to emerge from the shadows."  
  
"We're handling it," Christian replied. "Besides, we need people we can trust and he'll be rusty. And it doesn't sound like he was all the good of a hunter to begin with."  
  
The impact of the words was like a physical blow. Given that this Christian was arguing with Samuel about his worth to them, there was only one person where he could have gotten that assessment of his hunting skills from.  
  
Sam.  
  
It was a wonder that he could still feel the hurt from his little brother's seemingly endless betrayals, Dean thought. Yet hurt it did, badly. Suddenly it was two years ago and he stood facing Sam, both of them pumped up on the siren's venom, spewing filth at each other, aiming to hurt as much as possible. He could still remember everything his brother had said, all of the barbs he'd thrown and, the worst thing was, he knew that there was truth to all of them. He only had to look at what he'd said to know that, which meant that everything Sam said held some truth to it.  
  
As evidenced by what he'd obviously said to Christian.  
  
Their grandfather looked sharply at his youngest grandson and Sam merely shrugged. "He's right, Samuel. Ever since he was brought back from Hell, Dean's been different, weaker. He's no longer been as willing to do what needs to be done and kept ignoring the best solutions as he couldn't stomach them. Or because it wasn't about him doing it."  
  
Castiel's hand was back on Dean's shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly but he hardly noticed, the words cutting him like a knife. It was the siren all over again only this time his brother wasn't under some supernatural creature's influence, he was merely under the assumption that Dean wasn't there. And really, wasn't that exactly when Sam would be most honest? When he could speak freely without needing to worry about hurting his older brother's feelings?  
  
"Just look at the end of the Apocalypse, he resisted my idea forever, desperately trying to find another way, a 'better' way he claimed. In reality he was seeking something to let him shine and it wasn't until Death forced his hand that he finally caved and even then ungraciously. And look, it worked like a charm!" Sam stated. "No, Dean's far better off where he is. Let him play house, we can take care of this."  
  
Dean staggered back and it was only Castiel's arms that kept him up.  
  
"Dean," Castiel all but begged but failed to reach the hunter.  
  
"Sam-" Samuel started.  
  
"He's right," Christian interrupted. "Besides, we work well together, what would he do? We're not exactly in need of a master torturer, now are we?"  
  
Master torturer.  
  
 _Sammy had told them._  
  
Sammy had told them what had happened in Hell. What he'd done and become. Sammy had told them that which he'd told his brother in confidence, safe in the knowledge that he'd never tell another soul without Dean's permission.  
  
Unable to even think of coping with anything else, Dean turned towards Castiel, but his voice refused to cooperate and he was mute. Luckily the angel seemed to understand what he meant and with the soft touch of fingers, they were gone.  
  


* * *

  
"What would he do?" Samuel repeated. "Why he'd hunt with us, of course. I don't know what Sam may have said to you, but what I can say is that Dean is a good hunter. A damn good one."


	8. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You've seen what's starting to emerge from the shadows."

**PAST**  
  
  
Dean cursed loudly as the bullets hardly slowed the charging werewolf. Yeah, he knew that they weren't silver, but just a bit more of an effect would have been nice. He wasn't asking for much, just enough so he could double time it back to the Impala and actually get some silver bullets to fire at the damn thing. But no, it didn't seem like the werewolf was going to cooperate.  
  
And really, a werewolf on the new moon? The hell was up with that anyway? Dean had never heard of anything like that happening before and he'd been caught completely off-guard as a result. Yeah, all of the victims had been mutilated like a werewolf might do, but only one had been on a full moon and thus he'd discarded that option. It made sense to do so, dammit!  
  
It was pure instinct that made Dean twist and drop to the ground. He sent off silent thanks for his quick reactions as a second werewolf lunged overhead. It would have had him if something hadn't alerted him to its presence. Kicking up at the last second, he managed to hit its hind leg, sending it sailing into the first werewolf and both of them went sprawling onto the tarmac. Not planning on wasting the opportunity, he leapt to his feet and sprinted back to the Impala.  
  
Of course there were two of them, it made sense given the number of victims. Only he'd thought he was dealing with a rugaru instead and, with its greater appetite, there would only have been one of them. Therefore it hadn't immediately occurred to him that the werewolf could have a mate nearby.  
  
"Smooth, Winchester, real smooth. Stupid, rookie mistake."  
  
The snarling behind him picked up as the werewolves untangled themselves and took up pursuit. At least Dean could be thankful that they were in a deserted business district as the last thing he needed now was for somebody to come investigate the noise. As if on cue, one of the two werewolves howled.  
  
"Fuck!"  
  
He hated that sound. It sent a chill up his spine and he fought the urge to turn around and fire at them. He'd already seen how futile that gesture was and there was no point wasting valuable ammunition like that. Fishing his keys out of his pocket, he slid to a halt beside his baby and used the time he opened the trunk to glance behind him. He cursed some more as he ejected his clip, grabbed one of the ones loaded with silver bullets, slammed it home and turned. He managed to fire at one of them before the second was on him.  
  
Claws tore into his right arm and shoulder but Dean swallowed the cry of pain as he focused on using the gun as a club. It was a clumsy attempt, but it knocked the teeth that were aiming for his throat aside. There was a thrill of panic at the thought of being bitten, being  _infected_ , but it was shoved aside as his training guided his movements. Later, afterwards, he would send thanks to his father for the endless drills and sparing sessions as a child as they were the only thing that allowed him to keep the monster's teeth away from himself long enough to bring the gun to bear. He fired, hitting a limb and the werewolf howled, the silver doing its job even if it hadn't been a lethal shot.  
  
Dean managed to shove the creature off of himself enough to pull himself underneath the Impala, kicking at the werewolf's mouth when it snapped at him. Safely beneath his baby, he paused to catch his breath before the Impala rocked above him. There was the cringing squeal of claws on metal and Dean felt fury come to life within him. It was scratching his baby's paint job! Oh, he was definitely going to kill the son of a bitch now.  
  
A quick glance back the way he'd come showed Dean the motionless body of the werewolf he'd shot. He could be sure that one was staying down as werewolves didn't know how to play possum, so it was just the one on top of his baby now. Since the Impala was lower to the ground on the left, he carefully rolled out from underneath her on the right, gun at the ready. His actions went unnoticed and he was able to rise to his feet and fire before the creature realized what was going on. That was the one good thing about werewolves, they weren't Mom's best and brightest.  
  
Now that the danger had passed, Dean suddenly felt the pain from his wounds. Looking down at his arm and shoulder, he cursed violently at the four inch long gashes that started at his shoulder and went down from there.  
  
"Great, just great."  
  
A quick glance at his watch showed that he had only a few hours to get rid of the bodies and clear up the Impala before folk started showing up for work. For the first time in years, Dean felt like simply leaving the bodies where they were (well, after rolling the one off his baby) and going back to the motel. It was tempting, oh so tempting, but he knew better. Not only would his ammo raise all kinds of questions he didn't want raised, but who knew what could happen if the bodies weren't disposed of properly? He was pretty sure werewolves couldn't become ghosts, but he really didn't want to test that particular theory either.  
  
"God hates me," Dean concluded.  
  
It was the only explanation that made any sense.  
  


* * *

  
Dean woke up screaming, the phantom agony from his nightmare shifting smoothly into the actual agony of his shoulder and arm. Without thinking about it, he was already reaching out for the bottle of cheap whiskey beside the bed. The alcohol burned a path down his throat and he savored it slowly, letting the pain in his shoulder die down from having wretched it as he woke. He once again cursing the damn werewolves and made a mental note to look into the lore surrounding the creatures to see if he could figure out how they'd managed to change on a new moon. Perhaps that had been what his grandfather meant when he'd mentioned things emerging from the shadows.  
  
Dean took another long swallow of whiskey as soon as the thought crossed his mind. He'd purposefully avoided thinking about that little trip with Cas and had no intention of doing so now. Knowing he'd have to look at the wounds again, he drank some more before starting to undress. He'd stitched the wounds up the night before had and only pulled a shirt back on to accept the food he'd ordered, not wanting to scare the delivery boy. He'd tried a few bites of pizza before giving up and collapsing on the bed, fully dressed. While he was at it, he kicked off his blood speckled jeans as well. He'd just taken the makeshift bandage off the wound when he heard the flutter of wings behind him.  
  
"Hey, Cas," Dean said, not turning around.  
  
"Dean."  
  
"I got you some more minutes for the phone, so it should work again. You still have my number?"  
  
"Yes," Castiel replied, coming to stand beside him. "You're injured."  
  
"Yeah, werewolf."  
  
Castiel frowned. "I did not think it was a full moon in this part of the world."  
  
"It wasn't. You ever heard of werewolves being able to do that?"  
  
"Only once, a very long time ago. It is not a good sign, especially with the other odd occurrences."  
  
Dean looked up from examining the stitches. The work was sloppy as he'd been close to drunk, but it looked like they'd all hold. "Other odd occurrences?"  
  
"Yes, we need to talk."  
  
"And here I thought you'd popped in for my sparkling personality."  
  
"Personalities do not sparkle, Dean."  
  
It sounded like anything else Castiel might say, but something about the tone had Dean looking up and he caught a hint of laughter in the angel's eyes.  
  
"Ha, ha, you know what I mean."  
  
"And what's this?"  
  
The question was followed by an unexpected touch to his lower back and Dean jumped.  
  
"Sorry," Castiel said, stepping back.  
  
Dean bit back the little noise of pain that wanted to escape him from his jarred shoulder. He tried to focus on Castiel's question instead of the skin the angel touched as it still burned from the brief touch and he half wanted those fingers back, trailing across his skin.  
  
"What's what?" Dean finally asked.  
  
"Those darker areas on your skin."  
  
"Darker areas?" Dean got to his feet and walked to the mirror for a look, confused as nothing hurt. "Oh, that, it's 'cause I fell asleep in my clothes. It's where the jeans pushed into my skin. It'll fade in half an hour or so."  
  
"It doesn't look comfortable."  
  
"No, it's not."  
  
It said a lot for Castiel's progress when it came to humans that he even thought of something like that.  
  
"Take the thread out," Castiel instructed.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Take the thread out of the wound."  
  
"I can't, it's not healed yet and that's all that's holding the skin together."  
  
"I will heal it, but I don't think it's good for you if the thread is there when I do so."  
  
"You sure you can't get into trouble for doing this?" Dean asked, reaching for the knife he kept under the pillow.  
  
"I was resurrected and promoted for following you and-"  
  
"No, that happened because you did what was right."  
  
Castiel paused and tilted his head, assessing him before continuing and Dean got the distinct impression that he was being humored.  
  
"I don't like seeing you in pain."  
  
"So you said before."  
  
Dean concentrated on getting the thread out and making sure he bled onto his ruined shirt instead of the sheets. He didn't want to think about that sentiment too much. The last person who'd cared that much was Sam and... yeah  _not_  thinking about that.  
  
As soon as he'd gotten the last stitch out, Castiel touched his head and the three wounds closed up as if they'd never been. He'd never get any scars if they kept this up. Well, apart from the really obvious one. It made Dean feel kinda naked in an odd sort of way. The scars had been trophies of a sort almost, something some of the chicks had loved. They were a living record of the creatures he'd been up against and survived. Though, if this was the price he had to pay to not have the scars from the hellhound's attack, then he'd take it.  
  
As he wiped the blood off his arm, Dean realized something else and scowled. "Dude, you mojoed me sober!"  
  
"Inebriation is a form of disharmony of your system. It is not healthy."  
  
"I worked hard for that disharmony!" Dean complained, grabbing the bottle and taking a good, long swig straight from the bottle. He didn't bother with glasses anymore. It wasn't like there was anyone to complain about it.  
  
"You were the one who told me I shouldn't drink so much."  
  
"Yeah, well, that's different."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"'Cause you're an angel."  
  
"You also said my Father wasn't worth it."  
  
Dean merely shrugged. He wasn't going to apologize for that, not when he still felt it was true.  
  
"Have you considered that maybe Sam isn't worth it either?"  
  
Those words took a few moments to sink in, but when they did... "What?!"  
  
"If my Father isn't worth it, then how is Sam? They both abandoned us without a word."  
  
"No, that's- I don't want to talk about it."  
  
He brought the bottle back to his lips and he would have just drained it if Castiel hadn't grabbed it from him.  
  
"Hey!" Dean protested, watching it vanish into thin air. "What the Hell did you just do with it? Give it back!"  
  
"No."  
  
"Cas!" A warning growl.  
  
"You have had enough."  
  
"I'll be the judge of that!" Dean shoved the angel aside and made for his duffel and the spare bottle he'd picked up the day before. "And if you don't agree, you can just fuck off!"  
  
"We need to talk."  
  
"About what? We have nothing to talk about."  
  
"I don't think the Apocalypse is as done as we thought it was."


	9. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I don't think the Apocalypse is as done as we thought it was."

**PAST**  
  
  
The words froze Dean in place for a few seconds before he slowly straightened and turned around to face the angel. "What did you just say?"  
  
"That I don't think the Apocalypse has been completely averted."  
  
"Yeah, I got that, what I meant is  _why_  did you say that?"  
  
"There have been a number of strange occurrences that have made me fear things might not have been as finished as we'd hoped, but I've only just gotten enough information to be confident that we may have a real problem."  
  
"What? Why didn't you say anything before?"  
  
"You were already dealing with so much and I didn't want to bother you until I was more certain."  
  
"And now you are?"  
  
"Yes, I'm sorry."  
  
Dean blinked at the last two words. No one had ever apologized to him for delivering bad news before, but Castiel seemed to be genuinely sorry.  
  
"Not your fault."  
  
"I would have liked to have taken care of it without needing to involve you again as you've already done so much and don't deserve to go through this again."  
  
"Neither do you, Cas." Dean wasn't sure how that simple statement managed to touch him so deeply, but it did. "Okay, hit me with it."  
  
"Why would I wish to hit you?"  
  
"Cas," Dean  _knew_  the angel knew what he meant.  
  
"You are not being frustrating or stupid right now."  
  
"Very funny, but that reminds me, I still owe you a beat down for that."  
  
"If I attempt to capitulate to Michael, you may attempt to... work me over."  
  
Dean couldn't help it, he laughed. "Okay, if you know that one, then I know you know the other one. You're an educated angel now, Cas."  
  
All traces of humor left Castiel and Dean was tempted to try and take the words back. To keep the conversation light and playful as if there might not be another Apocalypse looming, or the same one. He should have known it was too easy to be true. Sure, he'd lost both of his brothers to Hell as well as Bobby and Cas to a, temporary, death, but in the end that really wasn't all that much considering that they were talking about the Apocalypse and the devil. Not if he was being realistic about it. Hell, the Apocalypse had been predicted and feared over two millennia ago!  
  
But he'd wanted it to be over so badly, both to find a way to save Adam and Sam, and to just be able to stop having to watch more and more innocent people die while he could nothing but watch helplessly.  
  
"I believe it is customary to begin with the good news," Castiel stated.  
  
"There's good news?"  
  
"After a fashion. Your brother, Adam, has returned to Heaven."  
  
"He's back? He's out as well?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"How?"  
  
"Like Sam and Samuel, Adam seems completely unaware of how he came to be transported from one location to another."  
  
"Is he alright?"  
  
"That is the other bit of good news," Castiel said. "He only has the vaguest memories of what happened to him while he was Michael's vessel and that includes all of his time in the Pit."  
  
"That's a relief," Dean stated before another thought occurred to him. "Hey, wait, does this mean that Sam might not remember much, or even anything, of Hell?"  
  
"I don't know, but I believe it is less likely with him as he had somehow wrestled control away from Lucifer when he fell into the Pit."  
  
"Oh."  
  
And dammit, now he was thinking about Sam in Hell and that was something Dean felt he had already done far too much of lately. Nine weeks of it too much to be exact. The anger helped him push the thoughts aside and focus on the issue at hand. Though, God, he really could use another drink.  
  
"So, what's the bad news?" Dean asked.  
  
"Unusual occurrences all over the globe. Things that shouldn't be happening or which should only happen infrequently are all happening now."  
  
"Things like werewolves transforming on a new moon?"  
  
"Yes, precisely."  
  
"Goddamnit! So I should expect to see more of that kind of thing from now on?"  
  
"I fear that it'll only grow worse, yes," Castiel confirmed solemnly. "It is almost as if something is hailing the return of Lucifer. Again."  
  
"But how? And why? We locked that son of a bitch up tight." A pause. "Didn't we?"  
  
"I'm afraid the cage may not be enough to hold Lucifer for much longer."  
  
"What? Why? It's held him for countless millennia now!"  
  
"Yes, but that was when it was just Lucifer in there, now there's Michael as well and it was never made to hold two angels, let alone two archangels."  
  
"Why didn't you mention this before?"  
  
"I wasn't aware it could be a problem as everything seemed okay when we left Stull Cemetery. When I went back after Sam's resurrection, however, I could feel the disharmony from the cage. It was even worse when I checked it again just now."  
  
"So, basically, it's just a matter of time before the cage bursts open and both Michael and Lucifer are free again and we're right back where we started?"  
  
"Not quite. We have Heaven on our side now."  
  
"You sure about that, Cas? Sure that the moment Michael's back that they won't just turn on you?"  
  
"Yes. As I said before, Dean, most of them didn't know about what was going on or what Zachariah was doing. The attempts to coerce you into saying yes and the deal Zachariah made with Adam to have him be Michael's vessel in particular have angered them. The rules regarding vessels are ancient and sacred as they pertain to Father's gift to allow us to roam the Earth and enjoy its beauty."  
  
"Okay, well that's something at least. Will they help us?"  
  
"Yes, they will, but we have none equal to Lucifer's power."  
  
"What about you? You're an archangel now, aren't you?"  
  
"I am," Castiel's tone of voice didn't change, but Dean almost felt he could see his wings straighten with pride. "But not all archangels are equally powerful and I have no experience fighting with my new abilities."  
  
"We'll have to work on that," Dean replied, mind already thinking of possibilities. "It would be stupid for you to be caught completely off-guard. Is there someone who can help you with that?"  
  
"Xarael, she's been invaluable in getting Heaven reorganized."  
  
"Good."  
  
Well that was one thing they could do, though Dean hoped that Cas never had to face Lucifer. Gabriel had been an archangel and Lucifer had still managed to kill him. The trouble was, he knew Cas and thus knew that the angel would place himself between him and Lucifer if at all possible. Cas had a nasty habit of trying to shield him from archangels and it had never ended well for his angel.  
  
God, the Apocalypse restarted. The full implications of it were only just starting to sink in.  
  
"How long are we talking here, Cas? You know, before the cage bursts?"  
  
"If things continue to progress at their present rate? Two or three months."  
  
"Fuck. I don't suppose there's any chance of just reinforcing the cage or building another one around it?"  
  
"No, Michael built the original one and no one else knows how."  
  
"Of course they don't," Dean muttered.  
  
So what the Hell did they do now?


	10. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After realizing his brother is no longer at Lisa's, Sam tries to contact him.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
Sam resisted the urge to fling his cell at the wall in sheer frustration. Why the hell wasn't Dean answering his phone? He'd been trying nearly nonstop to contact his older brother for the past hour but wasn't having any luck.  
  
"Are you sure he still has that... cell?" Samuel asked, leaning against the doorframe.  
  
"Yes, it's definitely his number, it's his voice on the answering machine and Bobby would have told me if he'd changed it."  
  
Samuel blinked, clearly running the first part of that sentence through what they'd told him about since coming back. Sam nearly snorted, it had been about a year since his grandfather had been resurrected and he still had difficulties with some of the simple stuff despite all of their coachings. It made him wonder at times whether Samuel had always been this bad with technology, was simply slow on the uptake or whether he had been brought back wrong somehow. Or no, not wrong, just different, damaged perhaps. He of all people should know that his grandfather was a good man. He'd seen him in action for months now and admired his knowledge and skill when it came to hunting. Sure, he himself had been trained to be a hunter from a young age, but Samuel had been trained from birth and had generations worth of knowledge at his disposal during that time.  
  
The thought made him think of what his cousins jokingly referred to as the Campbell family archives. Regardless of what they were called, they were a treasure that Sam couldn't get enough of. Luckily some of his cousins were a lot more computer savvy than Samuel and had started scanning in the books and personal journals a few years back so the records were accessible from anywhere with an internet connection and knowledge of the necessary passwords.  
  
"Maybe he doesn't take calls from numbers he doesn't recognize," Samuel suggested. "You no longer have your old phone."  
  
"No, he's always picked up before, just in case it's an emergency from someone who was referred to him from another hunter."  
  
"Have you left him a message?"  
  
"No, I don't want to scare him, it's better if I'm actually on the other end to reassure him that it's really me and not just some creature pretending to lure him into a trap or something."  
  
"He might think that anyway until we can prove otherwise and we need to be present for that."  
  
"True, but I can start laying the groundwork," Sam's fingers clenched around his cell as he resisted the urge to hit redial, again. "I'm gonna give Bobby a call, see if he's heard anything from Dean lately."  
  
"Okay, let me know if you need anything."  
  
With that, Samuel pushed off the doorframe and walked away. Sam appreciated the gesture as he didn't want someone watching him while he informed Bobby that Dean had been lying to him for either weeks or months now. The latter was the more likely of the two as he'd stayed and watched Lisa interact with the unknown man and they seemed quite settled. Who knew how long ago his brother had abandoned her and Ben? He'd been tempted to ring the bell and ask, but he didn't know how much Dean had told her about what had happened and he didn't want to frighten her to death should she know that he'd gone to Hell. Asking one of the others to do so in his stead had been out of the question as he'd seen enough of Lisa to know that she wouldn't give out that kind of information to just anyone. Even with Dean having broken her heart.  
  
The thought made Sam want to hit something. What the hell had his brother been thinking? He'd had everything he'd dreamed of and he'd still gone and fucked it up. Dean's self-destructive behavior and lack of self-worth really grated him at times. What the hell was wrong with his brother anyway? Sure, he'd been to Hell, but some of this went back further than that, he'd just never been able to see it as a child, too blinded by the hero worship he'd had for Dean to really see his brother. To see the flaws and weaknesses that were present even back then. It had been almost inevitable, really, if he thought about it now, Dean had just never been cut out for this lifestyle, too damaged by what had happened to them that fateful November evening. He'd just never been able to see it as a child, being too naive to understand the human psyche. But now... well now he could see and understand it all, realizing just how vulnerable his brother was at this moment, even if he wasn't being hunted by those damn djinn.  
  
With a sigh of frustration and worry, he hit speed dial number one and waited for a response.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Hello to you too, Bobby."  
  
"Sam, how are you? Was the information I sent you helpful? You never did let me know."  
  
"What? Oh, right, that, yes, it was very helpful. Worked like a charm."  
  
"That's good. Would it really have killed you to let me know? Or that you were alright?"  
  
"Jesus, Bobby, you sound like a mother hen right now, of course I was fine," Sam stated, rolling his eyes.  
  
"Not at all full of yourself either, I see. You're not invincible, Sam, just like your father wasn't, no matter how much he liked to think so."  
  
"I don't think that, Bobby, it's just that it wasn't a particularly nasty creature is all. Besides, you know I'm not doing this alone, that I've got others watching my back."  
  
"You really sure that you can count on them?"  
  
"Yes, Jesus, I think I've been with them long enough to know that."  
  
"Well, okay. What do you need?"  
  
"Who says I need anything?"  
  
"You called and it wasn't to thank me for the last time I helped you, so what do you need?"  
  
Sam scowled, pulling his cell away from his ear long enough to glare at it before he put it back. "Have you heard from Dean recently?"  
  
"No, not particularly recently. It must have been a month ago now, why? Is something wrong?"  
  
"Kinda. I was poisoned a week back an-"  
  
"You were  _what_?" Bobby exclaimed, alarmed.  
  
"Poisoned, by a djinn, but don't worry, I'm okay now."  
  
"A djinn? Are you sure you're okay?"  
  
"Yeah, Samuel recognized the signs and knew of an antidote, so no real harm done."  
  
"Well that's a relief. What were you doing to get yourself poisoned, ya idjit?"  
  
"That's just it, nothing. We weren't hunting them or even looking into a case, they just came after me. Thing is, apparently they're the kids of the djinn that Dean and I killed a few years back."  
  
"Jesus on crutches! You think they might be after your brother next?"  
  
"That was my guess, yeah, so we double-timed it over to Cicero."  
  
"From your earlier question, I take it you didn't find Dean's corpse."  
  
"No, see, that's just it, we didn't find Dean at all."  
  
" _What?_ "  
  
"Dean isn't in Cicero. Not anymore anyway."  
  
"Is Lisa still there? Is Ben?" Bobby questioned.  
  
"Yeah, they're both still there, living with some guy. I don't recognize him, but he's clearly moved in and is quite settled."  
  
There were a few moments of silence before Bobby started cursing. Sam nearly laughed at some of the more familiar and creative combinations. He never had figured out whether Dean had learned them from Bobby or whether the older hunter had picked them up from his brother.  
  
"Then where the hell is he?"  
  
"I was hoping that you might know, Bobby."  
  
"How should I know?"  
  
"Dean never mentioned anything to you when he called? Not even something small and seemingly insignificant at the time?"  
  
"That's just it, he hasn't been calling."  
  
"But you said-"  
  
"I know what I said, Sam, but that was when I last called him."  
  
"Shit."  
  
"You tried calling him?"  
  
"Yeah, he's not picking up."  
  
"I'll see what I can do."  
  
"Thanks, Bobby, let me know the moment you hear from him, alright?"  
  
"Of course I will, ya idjit. But if I can't reach him, then what do you plan to do next?"  
  
"I don't know. I can't think of where he might have gone off too, especially if he decided not to tell you about it. That's just not like him, he tends to cling to the people he knows well and cares about."  
  
"All I can say is that he's been different, quieter, when I've spoken to him. I almost felt like he was pulling back, only volunteering information when I asked for it and not saying much beyond that. I just assumed that he wanted to separate himself from his old life as much as possible and I didn't want to interfere with that."  
  
"What? He's gone even softer? It's a good thing he's out then as he'd not last long with what we're dealing with these days."  
  
"Sam." A warning.  
  
"I mean it, Bobby, his head wasn't really in the game anymore, hadn't been for a long time now."  
  
"Sometimes I wonder if you know your brother at all."  
  
"And what do you mean with that? Of course I know my brother!"  
  
"It's just that you have this tendency to underestimate him from time to time. You might want to be careful as that can get you into trouble."  
  
"Just let me know if you manage to contact him."


	11. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel watches over Dean in as many ways as he can.

**PAST**  
  
  
Castiel frowned as he flew into the room Dean had texted him about earlier in the day only to find the hunter sprawled across the bedspread, fully dressed. Empty beer and whiskey bottles lined the room and it was easy to guess how the evening had gone and the reason his charge now slept. He frowned, unfortunately all too familiar with both the reason and the desire Dean felt to seek oblivion in alcohol. He was also familiar with how futile a gesture it was and the detrimental results that inevitably followed.  
  
Not wanting Dean to suffer either those or the uncomfortable looking dark patches on his skin, Castiel stepped forwards. A simple touch was all he needed to clear the alcohol from the hunter's system and Dean mumbled incoherently as he shifted slightly before dropping back into a deeper sleep. He hesitated before going any further, but he didn't like the marks Dean's clothes left even if they did fade with time. Mind made up, he started at the hunter's feet, pulling at the shoestrings until they came undone and he could pull Dean's shoes and socks off. That done, Castiel moved higher up the bed, trying to think of the best way to accomplish his goals. He needed to get his human under the covers as well as out of his clothes so he pulled the bedspread and sheets down on one half of the bed (and Castiel was surprised to note that there was only one bed now) and then carefully rolled the hunter onto his back.  
  
Dean muttered, moving slightly, so Castiel touched his face and mimicked the soothing sounds he'd heard Dean mutter to a frightened child they'd saved. Although he didn't use his powers, he found the hunter calming. It was surprising seeing how he'd witnessed Dean's ability to wake at the even the smallest of intrusions. Indeed, it had taken a lot of skill to slip into the brothers' room before, but now he could touch Dean and the hunter didn't wake. The thought warmed him, both with pride and joy as he turned his attention to Dean's jeans. The belt was simple as he'd seen Dean put it on and take it off before, but the button proved to be a bit more difficult. He struggled with it a little before it finally popped through the hole. Dean seemed a bit more agitated, but didn't actually wake, which Castiel was happy for. In comparison, to the button, the zipper was easy and he started to remove the jeans, lifting his charge slightly to do so.  
  
The shirts proved to be more difficult as Dean's arms had to be gotten out of the sleeves first. During the process, the hunter rolled onto his stomach, thereby making things easier and hard all at once. What Dean had also done, though, was to wrap an arm around Castiel's waist and bury his face into Castiel's side before sighing contentedly and settling down once more. Another feeling of warmth spread through him, this one unfamiliar though he quickly decided that he liked it. Throwing the shirts aside, he looked down at his charge only to find that he'd been too late as there were already some marks on the smooth skin. As before, he automatically found himself reaching out to touch and felt Dean shift against him as he did so, though he still failed to wake.  
  
The skin was surprisingly soft under his fingers, not at all as rough as on Dean's hands and Castiel found himself fascinated. He wanted to touch all of the hunter, to see if he felt like this anywhere else. He was afraid to wake him though and so instead pulled up the sheets and settled down. It had been his intention to watch over Dean tonight as he slept and he could do that from here just as easily as he could from the, now nonexistent, second bed. His fingers, though, continued to run up and down Dean's back as that seemed to sooth the hunter.  
  


* * *

  
The warmth of another body was the first thing Dean became aware of as he woke and it made him smile. Obviously he'd gotten lucky last night even if he couldn't immediately recall any of it. He'd take any good thing right now no matter how small as he knew how sorely they'd be lacking once Lucifer broke out once again.  
  
The thought brought everything he didn't want to think about rushing back along with everything that he did to avoid thinking about it all. This, in turn, reminded Dean of his decision last night to stay in and drink instead of going out. So what was going on here?  
  
"Good morning, Dean."  
  
The voice was rough, gravely and unmistakable. "Cas."  
  
Dean moved his head slightly and the feel of rough fabric like that of a trench coat sliding across his face confirmed that it was indeed the angel he was snuggled up against. He started to pull back but then paused. He was warm and comfortable, and Castiel seemed to be in no hurry to move. His own reaction was based on the fact that he didn't want to reveal his feelings for Cas, but he doubted the angel would know what it meant, and because he didn't want Sam to walk in on them, but that was no longer an issue. So why shouldn't he just enjoy himself for a bit?  
  
It was harmless, really.  
  
It was as he'd shifted slightly that Dean had realized what else had been bothering him. When he'd moved his arm, he'd clearly felt the sheet brushing his skin. The thing was, he could have sworn that he'd fallen asleep on top of the covers, fully dressed. A few more movements confirmed what he'd thought, he was now wearing only his boxers.  
  
Reluctantly opening one eye, Dean wasn't in the least surprised to find Castiel watching him. "Cas, did you undress me?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
The confirmation sent a little thrill through him instead of the indignation or anger he was sure he'd have felt even a few weeks ago. "Why?"  
  
"Sleeping in your clothes appeared to be uncomfortable for you."  
  
Oh, well, that made sense. Dean could still feel the ghost of a touch along his lower back where the angel's fingers had brushed his skin the other day. Besides, it was such a Castiel-like thing to do, to act on that kind of sentiment without a clue as to the greater implications or any respect for privacy or personal space. His eye fell shut again as Castiel's fingers hesitantly brushed through his hair and if he could have, Dean knew he'd have been purring. It was wrong to be enjoying such a simple touch in this way, to take what was given in comfort as so much more, but he couldn't help himself. Cas was right here, so close, and he'd initiated all contact, so why shouldn't he enjoy it even if he knew the angel had never meant for it to be like that?  
  
Dean dozed for a while, warm and secure in the knowledge that he was not only safe, but with someone who cared about him even if it wasn't in the manner that he might want it to be. He was only half aware of the fact that Castiel's fingers had moved from his hair to his back as it all felt good, nice. He'd always been tactile in a way neither his father nor Sam was and he loved to be touched. It was probably one of the reasons why he enjoyed sex as much as he did. He wasn't sure how long he'd lain there, for once not rushing off to look for the next hunt, but after a while his stomach started to rumble.  
  
He moaned and buried his face deeper between the mattress and Castiel's side. Dean wanted to just ignore it, but knew it would only get worse. The slight shaking of his makeshift pillow also told him that the angel was amused by his antics and he gave in with a groan.  
  
"Okay, okay, I'm up."  
  
It was with an effort that Dean pushed himself into a sitting position, opening one eye blearily as he scratched his stomach. The clothes he'd worn the previous day were strewn about the room as if flung in passion rather than the clinical undressing he knew it had been.  
  
"What, you didn't know where to put my clothes, so you threw them everywhere?" Dean asked, opening his other eye and looking at the angel, amused.  
  
"I would have placed them on your duffel, but you had wrapped your arm around me and didn't look like you'd let go," Castiel replied.  
  
"Oh." Dean fought the blush that threatened down, he was  _not_  a schoolgirl with a crush dammit! "Sorry about that."  
  
"I did not mind."  
  
"Okay, great." A frown. "Did you mojo me sober again?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Dean opened his mouth to complain, but then shut it again. It probably wasn't worth it, besides the alcohol had done its job, letting him fall asleep quickly and not dream, so he couldn't really complain that he was spared the inevitable hangover this morning.  
  
"I gotta shower."  
  


* * *

  
When Dean emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam, he stopped in surprise when he noted that all of the empty bottles had vanished. He felt briefly guilty that Castiel had cleaned up after him, but it wasn't like he'd asked the angel to do so. He'd been planning on taking care of it himself as soon as he'd showered and gotten something into his stomach. Castiel himself was nowhere to be found and he ignored the pang of sorrow and turned towards his duffel instead to get dressed. He'd just finished pulling on an overshirt when there was a flutter of wings behind him followed swiftly by a mouthwatering aroma.  
  
"Dude!" Dean exclaimed turning around. "Did you get me breakfast?"  
  
"You are hungry."  
  
"Yeah, but..." Dean trailed off, shaking his head. "You're awesome!"  
  
Castiel's head tilted, clearly not understanding what was so great about what he'd done. "Thank you."  
  
Dean grinned as he snatched the brown paper bag and coffee cup from the angel's hands and settled down at the table. Inside the bag were two styrofoam containers, one with an omelette that smelled of bacon and sausage and the other with pancakes and maple syrup. At the bottom were some plastic cutlery and a plastic pot with cut up fruit.  
  
"What's this? You eating as well?" Dean asked, pulling out the fruit cup.  
  
"No, it is for you. You don't eat enough fruit," Castiel replied.  
  
"That's 'cause it's gross, dude."  
  
Castiel reached out and grabbed his wrist as Dean moved to push the fruit cup away from himself. "I got this as I knew you preferred meat in your omelettes, but next time I will get a vegetable one if you don't eat this."  
  
Anger was Dean's first instinctive response to being told what to do like this, but it was quickly washed away by wonder and astonishment. No one had ever tried to make him eat his fruit and vegetables since Mom had died. Oh, sure, both Dad and Sam had made comments at times about his food choices, but neither of them had made any real effort to get him to eat better. Snide and pointed comments had pretty much been the extent of it. So, to have someone now make an effort to get him to eat better... well, quite frankly, it touched him in a way he hadn't expected it to. Not to mention Cas' wording.  
  
 _Next time._  
  
Dean swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat. "Yeah, okay."  
  
Surprisingly he couldn't find it in him to come up with one of his usual witty retorts. There was just something far too honest and real about Castiel's concern for him to belittle it. Not to mention that the angel was the last person he had left. Sammy clearly didn't want him around and as for Bobby, well, Bobby had gone along with Sam's idea and Dean wasn't really sure where he stood with the older hunter now. He'd not yet been able to tell the other man about what had happened between Lisa and himself, though he'd known he'd probably end up at the salvage yard sooner or later. Now, however, now he wasn't so sure.  
  
Castiel didn't immediately let go of his wrist or look away from his eyes and Dean could feel his heart speed up as he found himself unable to look away. He'd have to find something to do about this situation as it was starting to get ridiculous. It was pathetic how often he reminded himself of a stupid schoolgirl with her first crush. Then, suddenly, the angel looked away and released his wrist. He missed the contact immediately, but pushed the sentiment aside and opened the fruit cup. He'd always eaten what he liked least first so that he could then savor the rest of his meal.  
  
Instead of vanishing back to Heaven or wherever else he went to these days, Castiel moved to the second chair and sat down. In the past it would have bothered him to have the angel watching him as he ate, but Dean had long since gotten over it and was simply pleased for the company.  
  
"I have started training with Xarael as you suggested," Castiel said when Dean started on the pancakes, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen.  
  
"Oh, and?"  
  
"It is difficult as we only know very little about an archangel's powers and abilities."  
  
"They kept that knowledge to themselves, I take it?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Aren't there any of them left?"  
  
"Other than Raphael, Lucifer, Michael and Gabriel, there were only Simiel, Jophiel and Raziel. Simiel sided with Lucifer and was cast into the Pit, Jophiel was killed during the rebellion, holding Lucifer off until Michael could fight him, and Raziel was given a task by Father and hasn't been seen since."  
  
Dean sighed, he could already feel the frustration and stress rising and taking up residence in his back and neck.  
  
"And I don't suppose your Father has decided to step up to the plate and show his face yet, has he?"  
  
He regretted the words almost immediately, the image of a hopeless Cas still far too clear in Dean's mind for his comfort.  
  
"No, He hasn't," Castiel stated evenly. "I fear, as before, that we will need to deal with this ourselves."  
  
"Right, after the bang-up job we did of it before."  
  
"We could not have foreseen that Sam would pull Michael into the cage with him or that the cage wouldn't be able to hold the both of them."  
  
"It wasn't just Michael."  
  
"What?"  
  
"It wasn't just Michael that Sam pulled into Hell with him, it was Adam as well," Dean clarified. "I still can't believe he did that."  
  
"He was probably thinking of the damage Michael could cause."  
  
"That's bigger picture bullshit," Dean snapped crossly. "If we were into that, I'd have said yes to Michael when Zachariah first told me I was his vessel. And I know Sammy thinks that too, or at least he used to, always complaining when Dad wanted to use someone as bait."  
  
"Your brother has changed a lot since then, Dean."  
  
"I know, but Adam is, was, his brother, his  _younger_  brother! I just can't understand how he could do that to his own family."  
  
"Probably the same way he abandoned you."  
  
The words were said quietly but they felt like blows nonetheless to Dean and he glared at the angel for daring to bring that up.  
  
"There is a reason that you are the Righteous Man, Dean, and not your brother or anyone else. You care about what is right and just. You don't allow such things as the end goal to compromise your morals and your actions. Regardless, the important thing is that you couldn't have foreseen that events would unfold like this and are thus not to blame. Locking Lucifer back up in his cage was a good solution to the problem and you helped bring that about. If nothing else, it has bought us more time to find a more permanent solution."  
  



	12. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel doesn't like how much Dean has been drinking lately and decides to do something about it.

**PAST**  
  
  
Castiel frowned as he recognized the type of building outside which the Impala was parked. When he'd found Dean's latest motel room empty, he'd feared this was where he'd find the errant hunter, but he'd hoped his charge was working instead of once more drinking himself into oblivion. Those hopes had now been shattered.  
  
He growled in frustration and resisted the temptation to follow Dean's example and curse. There were some things in which he shouldn't emulate the hunter, a lesson Castiel had, unfortunately, learned the hard way. Not that it had been Dean's fault, the human had tried to dissuade him from drinking when he'd first realized that he'd picked up the habit, but he hadn't listened. He'd figured that if it was good enough for the Righteous Man, then it was good enough for him. Somehow he'd forgotten that Dean, like all humans, was flawed. Indeed, it was often those flaws that drew him towards the hunter as they only served to underscore all that he accomplished in spite of them.  
  
Now, however, this one flaw was starting to annoy Castiel. Drinking did not help anything, Dean knew this and still he persisted in the habit. There were times when he didn't understand the hunter at all. Well, this foolishness ended now. He was not going to let Sam's decision destroy his brother.  
  
Once inside, Castiel quickly found the hunter as he was seated at the bar, a slew of empty shot glasses next to him as well as several empty beer bottles. His hands curled into fists before he made his way towards Dean.  
  
"Another," Dean said, motioning towards the barman.  
  
"No, you've had more than enough," Castiel stated.  
  
His approach had obviously been silent enough to have gone unnoticed as Dean jumped in his seat, nearly falling from the barstool. That was another negative consequence to the hunter consuming such copious quantities of alcohol, Castiel noted, it slowed his reflexes and left him more vulnerable. And that was something they couldn't afford, especially if dark forces were gathering in anticipation of Lucifer's return to Earth. His friend would, unfortunately, once again be the focus of all that power now that Adam was back in Heaven. Dean was all that was left between Lucifer and Hell on Earth and given what had happened the first time around, he doubted his brother would be as tolerant of the hunter's continued existence.  
  
"Cas," Dean's tone of voice was far from welcoming. "There an emergency?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Then shove off."  
  
The bartender brought another opened bottle to them.  
  
"He won't be having that," Castiel told him.  
  
"Yes, he will," Dean disagreed, shoving some money at the man.  
  
"Dean."  
  
"Fuck off, Cas."  
  
"No."  
  
This being a public place, Castiel knew he couldn't use his powers overtly, so he simply snatched the bottle from the hunter's hands and shoved it down the bar towards another patron.  
  
"Hey!" Dean protested.  
  
"You have had enough."  
  
"I've told you before, Cas, I'll be the judge of that and I damn well haven't had enough!"  
  
Beyond a general check to make sure that there was nothing supernatural in the bar with them, Castiel had tuned out everyone else to focus solely on his charge. As a result, the large man who'd approached him from behind went unnoticed until he grabbed hold of his trench coat and arm.  
  
"You causing trouble?" the man demanded. "'Cause it looks like you causing trouble to Benny."  
  
"Hey, get your hands off him!" Dean snarled, on his feet instantly.  
  
Before Castiel could say anything, the hunter had already gotten right up beside him and was shoving at the man who'd grabbed him.  
  
"But- he was harassing you," Benny said, confused.  
  
"He's with me."  
  
Dean's reply warmed Castiel, as did the automatic reaction to an 'assault' on his person even if he could have handled it easy enough on his own. It was good to know that even if they were arguing, the hunter wasn't angry enough with him to leave him alone to the mercy of customs he didn't know and human interactions he was, at best, awkward at.  
  
"Out." The order came from the bartender and made Dean's face fall with dismay.  
  
"What? Come on, man!"  
  
"We don't need your kind of trouble here."  
  
"But-"  
  
"Benny."  
  
This time it was Castiel's turn to step closer to Dean as the large man looked to grab his friend.  
  
"Alright, alright, we're going," Dean replied, glaring at both men.  
  
It wasn't lost on Castiel that that glare was directed his way as soon as they were safely away from the bar. It hadn't been how he'd intended this confrontation to go, but he couldn't argue with the results. Hopefully this would also prevent Dean from being about to return to this bar at a later date and, as it was a small town, that left him without a suitable place to go get drunk at.  
  
"The Hell was that about, Cas?" Dean finally erupted in the darkened parking lot.  
  
"You have been drinking too much."  
  
"Look, let's get one thing clear here, I'm an adult and perfectly capable of deciding when, and how much, I want to drink."  
  
"Yet you are not acting rationally and require help to do so."  
  


* * *

  
The urge to punch something rose within Dean and managed to resist it only by remembering how much it had hurt the last time he had punched Castiel.  
  
"What do you want from me, Cas?" Dean demanded.  
  
"I want you to take care of yourself."  
  
The words were said softly, but Dean could clearly hear the sincerity behind them and they took the wind right out of his sails. How the hell was he supposed to argue with that?  
  
"You have not been doing this for a long time now, but it has gotten worse since we went to see Sam and your grandfather."  
  
"I don't want to talk about it!" Dean thundered, pushing past the angel to head towards the Impala.  
  
"No, we  _will_  talk about this. Now."  
  
The words were accompanied by a hand on his bicep, spinning him around so that he was facing Castiel. Dean's eyes widened in shock and he stared at the angel, rendered completely speechless at this unexpected and nearly unprecedented forcefulness. He hadn't really seen Castiel this worked up since the very beginning, the only exception being that time in the alley when he'd fully intended to let Michael have him. The comparison should have frightened him; made him fear for his own safety, but it didn't. No, he trusted Cas, trusted him unlike anyone else and he  _knew_ , really knew, that the angel wouldn't lay a finger on him without a damn good reason.  
  
The blue gaze fixed on him was full of determination and stubbornness and Dean could feel the carefully restrained strength in the fingers wrapped around his arm. The air was filled with a familiar static buzz that had been absent from the angel towards the end of what they'd thought was the Apocalypse. Now it was back, amplified a hundredfold and spoke of a power he couldn't even hope to comprehend no matter how much he'd seen Castiel do. But that didn't matter as he knew that power would never be turned on him. Not without a damn good reason anyway and he was the first to admit that his stunt with Michael had been stupid and half-assed.  
  
"Cas," Dean began, swallowing thickly. "I- I can't."  
  
"Yes, you can. Furthermore, you must."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because this is not good for you. Pretending that you don't know what you do only to be reminded of it all the time is hurting you more than just acknowledging it would."  
  
"No, you don't understand, I  _can't_  just talk about it. That's not how I do things."  
  
"Nevertheless, it is what must be done now."  
  
Dean briefly closed his eyes before he glanced about, looking to see if there was anyone else nearby. The last thing he needed was to make a public spectacle of himself. As if sensing the thought, Castiel's hand left his arm and brushed his forehead and they were suddenly back in his motel.  
  
"Dude, my car!"  
  
"She is outside, I wouldn't leave her behind."  
  
"You transported my baby as well as us?"  
  
"Yes. Your suggestion for me to try expanding my abilities was a good one. Xarael and I have been experimenting with more than just my fighting abilities as we both doubt I could confront Lucifer head on."  
  
Dean gave a strained smile. "So you're thinking to outsmart him, come in from the side instead?"  
  
"Tactics has always been my strength, there is no reason for me not to use that now."  
  
"Good thinking."  
  
"But that is not what we need to discuss at this time."


	13. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "But that is not what we need to discuss at this time."

**PAST**  
  
  
"Sure it is," Dean replied, taking a seat on the bed. "Seeing as we've got the Apocalypse looming again, I think it's a very important topic of conversation and one that needs much discussion."  
  
"Indeed it does, but not at this time."  
  
"You know what they say, Cas, there's no time like the present."  
  
"No, I did not know that they say that, but it's now time to face the truth, Dean."  
  
"Cas, I-"  
  
"Sam betrayed you, Dean. Again."  
  
The hunter flinched at the harsh words and Castiel felt bad for hurting him. Unfortunately, however, it was necessary or he would never subject his charge to this emotional torture. If Dean didn't confront this, not only would he continue his self-destructive behavior, but he would be leaving himself wide open to the enemy. There was little doubt in his mind that Lucifer would use Sam against Dean in any way he could. As for Michael... well, he wouldn't put it past him either if he felt it might gain him his intended vessel.  
  
Instead of replying, Dean seemed to pull into himself and it broke Castiel's heart, knowing what he had to do next, but there was no way around it. With two steps, he completely invaded the hunter's personal space and grasped his chin, forcing the human to look him in the eye. He wasn't going to allow Dean to do anything but hear and acknowledge what he was saying.  
  
"Dean, your whole life you have given everything to your brother,  _everything_. When you felt it necessary, you even sold your soul for him, something which no one deserves." Predictably, the hunter started to open his mouth to protest. "No, Dean, your soul is your most precious possession. It  _is_  your very essence, who and what you are at your very core. No one is worthy of that gift, no one. And yet, despite that, you gave it away for Sam, you sold it and went to Hell for him. And what did your brother do then, Dean?"  
  
"He tried to get me out, he tried to save me!" Dean replied desperately, his hands coming up to clutch the angel's wrist.  
  
Castiel knew his friend wanted to break free, to look away and yet he applied no great force to the hand constraining him. Whether that was because he felt it futile or because some part of him recognized that they had to get this, all of this, out into the open, he didn't know, but he desperately hoped it was the latter even though he doubted that was the case.  
  
"Did he? Did he really?" Castiel questioned. "Or was he simply trying to assuage his own guilt for having put you in that position in the first place?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"From what I heard, he was sorry that  _he_  couldn't get you out, that  _he_  had failed to save you or that  _he_  hadn't been able to help," Castiel pushed relentlessly. "Never once did I hear him say that he was glad you'd been saved, regardless of how it was done or who did it."  
  
Dean closed his eyes and swallowed deeply, attempting to shake his head in denial.  
  
"And how did he repay you, Dean? How did Sam thank you for your unbelievable sacrifice?"  
  
The hunter was starting to tremble now though Castiel noted that since he'd started, Dean hadn't asked him to stop. The fingers at his wrist now dug into his vessel's skin, as the other hand did in his trench coat, but Dean wasn't pushing or pulling. Dean wasn't attempting to shove him away. He took it as a good sign, not that he'd have stopped otherwise. This merely made it marginally easier. Marginally.  
  
"He betrayed you, Dean. For what you'd done, for all that you'd suffered, he betrayed you. For a demon."  
  
This, finally, seemed to have more of an effect. Dean jerked in his grasp and seemed to come to life.  
  
"No! He didn't do it on purpose, he wasn't himself," Dean denied, forcefully pulling his chin free. "It was the blood, the demon blood was affecting him, twisting him into something he's not!"  
  
"And how did he come to be on the demon blood?"  
  
Castiel wasn't going to give Dean an inch of mercy. Not in this. Not when his friend was so good at using any and all opportunities he could to justify Sam's behavior and blame himself instead for whatever his brother had done. Dean deserved better than that and he was determined to make sure that the hunter came to realize this too. Helping his charge overcome the vicious cycle he'd fallen into regarding Sam was the single best gift he could give him. If not, he knew it was only a matter of time before Dean caved and contacted Sam, who'd then feed him some story, or before he justified Sam's behavior to himself on his own. Either option would end with Dean going back to Sam and opening himself up for this kind of hurt all over again.  
  
No, it was high time that Dean understood his own worth and Castiel wanted desperately to help him get there. Once that was accomplished, then Dean could go back to Sam if he wished, so long as he stood up for himself when it really mattered. In truth, though, he hoped that once Dean was at that point, that he'd no longer need his brother as blindly as he did now.  
  
"I don't know," Dean whispered.  
  
"Yes, you do," Castiel pushed. "Sam  _decided_  to start taking it. Whatever you want to say about what he did while under its influence and taint, at the beginning he made a conscious choice to start drinking it."  
  
"We don't know that! For all we know, it was forced onto him."  
  
"Did Sam tell you that, Dean?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Then what did he say?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"Did you ask him about it?"  
  
Dean looked away from him, his hands clenching at his side.  
  
"Did you ask him about it, Dean?"  
  
"No, okay? I didn't ask him about it. There, are you happy now?"  
  
"I will be happy when you are once more."  
  
The hunter snorted, anger starting to leak through. Castiel was almost surprised at how long it had taken to surface. That was one of Dean's other defense mechanisms.  
  
"Then maybe you should stop with the twenty questions."  
  
"I intend to ask more than twenty questions."  
  
"No, it's a- never mind, it means I don't like this."  
  
"If you did, you wouldn't be you."  
  
"Are you actually going anywhere with this bullshit?"  
  
"Yes. Why didn't you ask him about it?"  
  
Dean turned to glare at him before starting to rise from the bed. Castiel moved to block him.  
  
"You didn't because you were afraid that you wouldn't like the answer. One does not get addicted from one exposure, it takes a few repetitions as with most drugs."  
  
"No," softly, denial.  
  
"You knew you wouldn't like it because you knew he'd made a conscious decision to start drinking Ruby's blood."  
  
"It's not his fault!"  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"He was desperate. Hell, I sold my soul when in his place!"  
  
"And if you'd been able to stop it from happening or take it back afterwards, without adversely affecting the results of the deal, would you have?"  
  
"Of course, you know we tried."  
  
"So why didn't Sam stop when you'd gotten out? Why did he choose to continue down a path he knew could only lead to darkness?"  
  
"I- I don't know," Dean admitted.  
  
"Was his quest for vengeance for what he'd suffered really that much more important than you, Dean? Than your welfare after such a traumatic experience?"  
  
"That's not what it was!"  
  
"No? So Sam asked if you wanted to go after Lilith the way you did? Because he made a choice, Dean, a conscious choice to focus on going after her despite the fact that you were back and needed help-"  
  
"I didn't need help!"  
  
"- to ignore that you were suffering as a result of what had happened to you. To the horrors you had experienced. He chose vengeance over you long before he chose Ruby over you, Dean."  
  
The pain was clear in the hunter's green eyes now and it hurt Castiel twice as bad to know that he'd put it there. It tempted him to just stop, to let it go, but he couldn't. That would only serve to hurt Dean more in the long run and make his present suffering pointless.  
  
"Sam hasn't always made the best of choices," Dean said and Castiel felt the human urge to snort. "But that's my fault."  
  
"How?"  
  
"I'm the one who raised him, who taught him what was right and wrong, or was supposed to anyway. Clearly, I fucked that up like everything else."  
  
"Dean, no!" Castiel exclaimed, horrified. "That is not true, you did the best you could. It was a remarkable job given that you too were only a child."  
  
"Yeah? Then why'd he do all that?"  
  
"Because he  _chose_  to, Dean, that's why. Parents, or others who raise a child, are not responsible for everything that child does. All they can do is teach them what's right and guide them on their way, that's all. What happens beyond that is entirely up to the child."  
  
"But-"  
  
"No, Dean. It's called free will, that thing you value so much. Sam's got his and has, of his own volition, chosen the path that he's currently on. You advised him against it on numerous occasions, but he still chose it. Yes, he had many obstacles placed in his path and, yes, you made mistakes, but in the end he and only he chose what to do with those. What to make of them. He chose to break his promise to you never to use his powers, he chose to start drinking demon blood, he chose to not let you know of his escape from Hell and he chose to reveal your secrets to the hunters he is currently staying with. Those are all decisions that he and he alone made."  
  
"But I made mistakes, you said so yourself."  
  
Castiel fought the urge to try shaking some sense into the hunter.  _Of course_  that was what he'd heard.  
  
"Of course you made mistakes, Dean, all parents do and you weren't even that. You were a child yourself. That meant there were many things regarding Sam's upbringing that you couldn't control, such as whether or not you stayed in one place for any length of time. Besides, would you leave a child to raise another child, Dean?"  
  
"It depends."  
  
"No, it doesn't. Would you?"  
  
The silence stretched for so long that Castiel feared he wouldn't get an answer, but then it came, very quietly. "No."  
  
"And I only need to look at the other child you raised to know that you aren't to blame."  
  
"Huh? What other child?"  
  
"You, Dean. In addition to raising Sam, you raised yourself and, of the two, you should have been the more difficult. The one less likely to turn out right."  
  
"Hey!"  
  
"You were exposed to a severe trauma at a very young age, Dean, that often has negative consequences. Then you were exposed to the supernatural, told you were constantly in danger and given the responsibility of looking after your brother. Most would have cracked under that pressure, but you didn't. You even managed to shelter Sam from the truth and allowed him to be a child for as long as you could and even then it wasn't your fault when the truth came out."  
  
Dean half laughed, bitter and regretful at once. "Sammy never could curb his curiosity."  
  
Castiel could tell that, despite the comment, some of what he was saying was getting through. Some of the hunter's defensiveness was fading. Perhaps, on some level buried deep and never consciously acknowledged, Dean already knew all of this. He suddenly had a disturbing image of a young Dean, desperately seeking confirmation for his feelings. His anger at John and Sam grew.  
  
"Dean, your brother has betrayed you numerous times despite the fact that you have given him all that you have."  
  
Suddenly Dean was on his feet, shoving him back and Castiel allowed it, happy to finally get a real reaction out of him. The fire and passion in those eyes right now was something he'd sorely missed since he'd left Earth to restore order to Heaven. This was why it was so vital for the hunter to work through this, it was sapping him of all that he truly was.  
  
"Shut up!" Dean yelled, voice edging on desperation and something else Castiel hoped was acknowledgement. "Just shut up! Why are you doing this? Why can't you just leave it alone?"  
  
"Because it is time that you admitted the truth to yourself, Dean. You have done everything for Sam and he has done nothing but throw it all back in your face. He's not worth all this pain you put yourself through."  
  
"He's my brother, dammit!"  
  
"And Uriel and Zachariah were mine, just because someone is a sibling doesn't mean that they can't be dicks, you've noted this often enough yourself," Castiel pressed on, knowing this type of opportunity was unlikely to ever arise again. He'd caught the hunter off-guard while under the influence of enough alcohol to loosen him up a bit. The next time Dean would be prepared, masks and shields in place and vulnerability well hidden. "If anything, the very fact that they are related to us allows them to do far more damage than they could otherwise, because we let them. We let them in, Dean, and we have to stop doing that. Just because Sam is your brother and because you love him dearly does not give him the right to treat you the way that he has been. It does not give him the right to hurt you, time and again. You have to stop letting him."  
  
"How?"  
  
"By accepting that though you love him, he is not someone you can trust. Not with your emotional wellbeing."  
  
"I don't know if I can do that, Cas."  
  
"I did not say that it would be easy or even quick, but you currently have the advantage of time and space. Sam still believes you to be with Lisa, so you are free to take as long as you need to think this over. Just be aware that once Lucifer and Michael break free, they will most likely use your brother and what he has done against you."


	14. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean ponders everything Castiel said about Sam.

**PAST**  
  
  
When Dean finally stopped driving, he was four states from where he'd started and in the middle of a deserted stretch of highway that extended off into the distance as far as the eye could see. He'd always liked Arizona and therefore wasn't very surprised that he'd chosen here to pull to the side of the road. He sat looking at the slowly sinking sun as the Impala's engine ticked while cooling. He'd have to give her a thorough check soon. Sure, he'd repainted her trunk after the werewolf incident, but it was about time that he checked everything else.  
  
Although he'd stopped whenever she needed gas, Dean knew that he'd been riding his baby hard these past few days but he hadn't been able to help it. He thought best while on the road and his last conversation with Castiel had definitely given him a lot to think about. The fact he could think of the angel without any of the anger he'd felt when he'd stormed out of that motel room was a clear indication that he'd worked through most of the issues raised.  
  
Oh, Dean wasn't stupid enough to think that he'd dealt with all of it, but he no longer felt the blinding pain he'd had before every time he thought of Sam and what his brother had done. Yes, it still hurt like a son of a bitch, but now at least he could think about it somewhat rationally. The rest would only come with time and he was glad Castiel had pointed out that this was something that he currently had enough of. At least as far as this particular issue was concerned. Sam still thought him to be at Lisa's and thus he wouldn't see his brother for a while. For nearly the first time in his life, he felt that was a good thing.  
  
Much as he hated to admit it, Castiel had been right about Sam. His little brother had betrayed him several times in the past year and it hadn't been his own fault. He had done his best to make Sammy see the truth about Ruby and had tried to steer him back on track, but his brother had refused to listen to him. What more could he have done short of forcing Sam to do what he wanted? If he'd known how things would turn out, then he'd have been tempted to do precisely that, but at the time... Like Castiel had said, he valued free will too much to take it away without a damn good reason, especially from his own brother.  
  
With a sigh, Dean pulled his cell from his pocket. He hesitated briefly before he sent a text with his approximate location to Cas.  
  
Within seconds there was the flutter of wings and Castiel sat beside him in the passenger seat. The rapid response made Dean feel guilty as he had no doubt that the angel had been waiting for his message. He'd left without telling him where he was going and hadn't bothered to contact him since.  
  
"Sorry," Dean apologized.  
  
"You needed time to think and you do that best while on the road."  
  
It never failed to amaze Dean just how well Castiel knew him. Logically it made sense, the angel had literally held his soul in the palm of his hand after all, but emotionally... Well, he'd never had that before, that type of connection with someone else. Even his father hadn't known him as well as Cas seemed to.  
  
"Thanks."  
  
For understanding, for not pestering him these past few days, for being there when he was ready.  
  
Castiel merely nodded, but when Dean looked closer, he could almost detect something that looked like fear or nervousness in the angel's eyes. Oddly enough, that only served to warm Dean even more. The angel had done what he had despite knowing that it might adversely affect their relationship and all because he'd felt it was necessary for Dean.  
  
And it was. Dean could see that now. It had hurt like hell, it  _still_  hurt like hell, but now that he'd been able to put some perspective on it, he could admit that it had been necessary. His drinking had seriously started getting out of hand, even more so than before Stull and it had been bad then. Oh, that wasn't to say that he hadn't had serious provocation, but he could now see that it was neither helpful nor necessary. Nor would it allow him to do his best to try and finish this Goddamn Apocalypse once and for all. The last thing he wanted was to fail in that because he'd been too drunk off his ass to take an opportunity if it presented itself.  
  
No, not if, when. When it presented itself.  
  
To his amazement, Dean found that he could be more positive without the alcohol. He'd originally turned to it in a desperate attempt to dull the pain and the emptiness, but all it had done was serve to make everything that much more bleak. He found that his head was clearer now, that he was better able to see things as they really were, than he ever could with the whiskey. Well, it was a combination of the lack of alcohol and the truth that Castiel had stuffed down his throat in such a manner that even he could no longer avoid it, despite all of his best efforts.  
  
Which brought him right back around to the angel's nervousness and fear now. When Dean had first taken off, it had been in anger, pain and denial. He'd done his best to outrun their confrontation and everything that Castiel had said. He'd hoped that by putting physical distance between himself and that motel room, he'd be able to put an equal distance between himself and those words. Needlessly to say, he'd failed, spectacularly.  
  
Not that Dean was in the least regretful of that right now. No, if anything, he was thankful for it because although it had hurt worse than anything he'd thought possible, he now felt freer and lighter than he had in years. Which wasn't to say that he felt anything remotely like what a normal person would classify as 'okay,' but for him it was fantastic. Even if it had come at the expense of one of the worst driving experiences he'd ever had. He didn't even want to think of his state of mind all through Arkansas and Oklahoma and he wouldn't, ever again, if he could help it.  
  
He wasn't miraculously cured or anything stupid like that, but Dean now at least felt like he could handle things without having a complete meltdown. Despite everything, thinking of Sam and what he'd done still hurt like a bitch, but it wasn't the all-consuming, mind-numbing pain from before.  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
The words were whispered, but Dean heard them loud and clear. "For what?"  
  
"For hurting you."  
  
"You were trying to help me."  
  
"But I still hurt you and for that I'm sorry."  
  
Dean could hear the sincerity in those words and gave Castiel a strained smile. The angel meant it, he really meant it and that meant more to him than he could say. He just hoped that Cas would be able to read that from him the way he seemed to be able to read so many other things from him.  
  
"Yeah, you did, but it was needed so, thanks, Cas."  
  
"Your welcome, Dean."  
  
The silence stretched between them, but it was not uncomfortable and, for once, Dean didn't feel the need to try and fill it. He was just surprised that he'd either turned his music off at some point or had never turned it on to begin with. Somewhat disturbingly, he found that he didn't know which of the two it was.  
  
When he glanced back at the angel, Dean found that he was watching him. Their eyes locked and he took comfort from the now familiar connection. The time when this had not only been foreign, but uncomfortable for him was but a distant and vague memory. Now he enjoyed the companionship and security those blue eyes had come to represent. Castiel was the only person he had left and that was...  
  
Something he really didn't want to think about right now. "So, any news about the cage or those strange occurrences?"  
  
"Nothing of import. We have found the causes of some of the occurrences, but they inevitably are things which should not have transpired."  
  
"Great."  
  
"As for the cage, it continues to deteriorate at the rate that I predicted."  
  
"Okay, so T minus ten weeks until show time."  
  
"I am unfamiliar with that reference."  
  
Dean laughed, that was just so typical Cas that it was relaxing. "It's another way to talk about a countdown."  
  
"Ah, I see, then yes, it is about ten weeks until the cage should be insufficiently strong to continue to hold my brothers."  
  
"And I don't suppose you've got a lead on anything that might help us?"  
  
"Not yet, though I have started looking through resources that were previously inaccessible to me."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Heaven has a vast library with many volumes unavailable on Earth."  
  
"Heaven, library, check. Something else I can add to the list of things I don't like about that place," Dean stated.  
  
Castiel's jaw tightened and he looked angry, though Dean didn't think that it was directed at him. At a guess, he'd say it was directed at Zachariah for that stunt he'd pulled back when Roy and Walt had killed him and Sam. He didn't know if the angel had asked Sam for details or whether his brother had chosen to just tell Cas about them, but either way he knew that his friend was aware of exactly what Zachariah had done in that last memory of his. Of how he had twisted one of the few remaining memories he had of his mother and turned her into some horrible caricature of herself so that the bastard could use her against him. For that alone, he'd gladly have killed the son of a bitch, the rest had just been a bonus.  
  
"Heaven is no longer what you remember it to be," Castiel began. "Not that you saw a very normal version of it to begin with."  
  
"That's good. So, books?"  
  
"Yes, far older ones than even most of Bobby's collection and from a different point of view."  
  
"I know I'm going to regret this, but do you need any help?"  
  
"Another set of eyes would be useful, yes."  
  
Even as he said this, Castiel was reaching out towards him with two fingers. Dean eyed them resignedly but didn't reach out to interfere. It made sense to get right at it and the nearest motel was probably another hour or two's drive away. His lack of reaction seemed to surprise the angel who paused and looked at him inquiringly.  
  
"What?" Dean demanded.  
  
"You normally stop me until you know precisely what I'm going to do."  
  
A shrug. "I trust you, Cas, you're not going to do anything untoward. Besides, aren't you just planning on taking me somewhere?"  
  
"No, I know you prefer to drive unless it's an emergency."  
  
Dean frowned a little, pleased that Castiel had gotten that message, but not sure what that left. "Okay, so what are you planning on doing?"  
  
"The books are in Enochian, I would like to give you the ability to both read and understand them."  
  
"You're gonna download a language into my head?" Dean's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Isn't that like, against the rules or something?"  
  
"Not if I say so as I make the rules now."  
  
"Is this gonna hurt? 'Cause I gotta say, Cas, it sounds like it will."  
  
"No, not really. It will probably give you a headache and make your head swim for a minute while the knowledge sinks in, but then everything will be fine."  
  
Dean sighed as he thought about this for a second. It didn't sound particularly nice, but on the other hand, it was Enochian. If Lucifer and Michael really were coming back for round two, then it was a really good idea for him to know the language. Besides, much as he hated researching, he'd rather do that than sit around on his ass all day, just waiting for the fight to come to him. Things would be much better off if they could find a way to keep the devil and his brother in their cage.  
  
"Okay, hit me with it."  
  
Castiel's lips twitched at the wording and Dean smiled himself at the reminder of the last time he'd used those words. The overall topic hadn't been great, but that little moment they'd shared, teasing each other, was nice. It was the little things that counted these days.  
  
Then Castiel's fingers were on his forehead and all other thoughts fled Dean's mind. The feeling of what happened next was indescribable as he had no real frame of reference for it. It was almost like something was being poured into his head though it felt neither like a liquid nor any other kind of fluid he knew. It made his brain swell and it felt like it was going to burst from his skull. And, fuck, Cas hadn't been kidding when he said there'd be a headache! By the time he could almost feel the knowledge settle in, he was already tuning out, not able to handle all of the details.  
  
When Dean came back to himself, he was resting his head against Castiel's shoulder who'd moved closer to him and the angel had an arm wrapped around his waist, supporting him. He blinked a few times, trying to reorient himself and waiting for the remaining sense of fullness to fade away. Christ, if this was how it felt to gain a little knowledge, he really didn't want to know what having an entire angel inside his meatsuit alongside him would feel like. Thank God Castiel had prevented him from finding that one out first hand!  
  
The angel was murmuring softly to him and it took Dean a few moments to realize that the meaningless words had a different rhythm and flow to them from normal. From English. He jerked his head up and stared wide-eyed at Castiel as he realized that his friend was speaking in Enochian.


	15. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel experiences more emotions he doesn't understand.

**PAST**  
  
  
Dean rubbed his eyes as the text in front of him started to swim and dance before his eyes. As it did so, he caught glimpses of the strange Enochian letters before they once again seemed to resolve themselves into English as he blinked his sight clear. That was going to take some getting used to. If he wanted, he could make himself see the tiny handwritten script as it really was, but with the mojo Castiel had worked, it basically seemed like English to him at first glance. While he appreciated the ability to do something instead of just sitting around with his thumbs up his ass, he was long past the point of wishing that there was something else- anything else!- he could do instead of this.  
  
He'd felt his heart sink when Castiel had first appeared with an impossibly large stack of books and it had pretty much all gone downhill from there. At least the angel was still in the room with him even if they really didn't talk much other than making comments or asking each other questions about what they'd just found. Just Castiel's very presence was almost like a balm after all those weeks he'd spent on the road alone, desperately seeking a means of freeing his brothers.  
  
"I need a break," Dean finally declared, pushing his chair back. "Otherwise I'll go cross-eyed."  
  
The speed with which the angel looked up at him made him laugh.  
  
"It's an expression, Cas."  
  
"Oh, I see," a frown.  
  
"It means that my eyes can't take any more of this cramped writing without a break. And who the hell wrote all of this anyway?"  
  
"Some of my brothers and sisters," Castiel replied. "Various angels write about their experiences in what appear to be significant events so that the information is there if it is ever needed again."  
  
"Like now."  
  
"Precisely."  
  
"Have you written anything, Cas?"  
  
"I have done a number of books, mostly on events many centuries or millennia past now."  
  
"Mostly?"  
  
"I have done a little writing more recently."  
  
The angel seemed almost hesitant now, as if uncertain how he would respond. Dean felt a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. Oh, he hadn't...  
  
"Cas, have you written anything about me?"  
  
"Not directly, no."  
  
"And what does that mean?"  
  
"I wrote about Perdition, about what I saw, heard and experienced when I went there after you."  
  
Dean forcefully pushed the memories that threatened to rise down and instead focused on the logic of that statement. It made sense for Castiel to write about what he had learned as he doubted many angels went to Hell. What Castiel had experienced during his time there could prove quite valuable in the future should another angel ever have to back there for whatever reason.  
  
"That makes sense."  
  
"It has also been mentioned to me that my experiences with you would be useful information to add to the library, but I knew you would not appreciate this and thus refused."  
  
"Thanks, Cas," Dean replied with a small smile. "Besides, isn't that the whole point of Chuck's books anyway?"  
  
"They wanted an angelic perspective on the topic."  
  
"On the topic?" Dean repeated in disbelief. "Are you serious?"  
  
"Some of my brothers and sisters are not yet able to put a proper perspective on human lives."  
  
"Yeah, clearly."  
  
"You must remember, Dean, that most of them have only watched humanity from afar and thus have no real experience with you beyond what they've been told by other angels."  
  
"Not all of who have the highest opinion of us."  
  
"Unfortunately not," Castiel agreed. "It is one of several reasons that I have implemented significant changes in Heaven. This type of prejudice arises from the rigid separation of the human and angelic portions of Heaven, which is easily remedied."  
  
"Whoa, wait, are you saying that you've changed the way souls are segregated up there?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"You expressed a severe distaste for it and mentioned that some of your old friends had disliked it so much as to start finding ways to circumvent the rules."  
  
"Yeah, but still, that's a pretty big change, Cas."  
  
"I know, but Heaven is supposed to be a place of bliss and rest, not a prison to entrap souls. I have altered things so that those wishing to remain as they are can do so, while the rest can mingle with the other souls present or with the angels."  
  
"How's that working?"  
  
"People seem happier than before."  
  
"Good, that's good."  
  
It was on the tip of his tongue to inquire about his parents, if they were among the people who'd opted to start using these new found freedoms, but the words caught in his throat. After what Ash had said, Dean wasn't so sure he wanted to know. Besides, it would probably be a distraction and that was something he really couldn't afford at the present. He was having a hard enough time as it was dealing with the whole Sam situation not to add anything else to it.  
  
"Yes, it also means that we were able to keep our promise to Adam."  
  
"Of course, I'd forgotten about that. Crap."  
  
"There was a lot going on, Dean."  
  
"Still, I should have remembered about that. Not only is Adam my brother, but it shows what Michael is willing to do and that is something I can't forget. Not if he's getting out in two months."  
  
And God, Dean could hardly even believe that it had been just about four weeks since he'd learned of Sam's escape from Hell, it seemed far shorter than that. His grandfather hadn't been kidding when he'd said that things were emerging from the shadows. The number of cases he'd worked recently was through the roof, not to mention that he was starting to see more and more weird shit, even for him. It really was like the supernatural world knew that Lucifer was returning soon and they were rolling out the red carpet to greet him.  
  
What Dean didn't get, though, was why all of this was happening now. Why hadn't it happened before, when Lucifer had first gotten out? Things had seemed almost quiet then in comparison. Surely there had to be a reason for this difference. It was possible that it was simply a case of the creatures now being aware that the devil could get out whereas before he'd been locked up since Michael had kicked his ass and thus they might have been skeptical. After all, that couldn't have been the first time someone had tried to break Lucifer out.  
  
Still, there was something about the situation that bugged him and he just couldn't figure out what it was.  
  
The sudden way Castiel looked to the right caught Dean's eye and he looked over just in time to see a woman appear in a flutter of wings.  
  
"Xarael," Castiel greeted.  
  
"Castiel," the woman replied.  
  
She, or rather her vessel, Dean mentally corrected himself, was a beautiful young woman in her mid to late twenties with a sweep of long dark hair and liquid brown eyes. She was about five foot five and dressed quite fashionably, not at all like Jimmy's accountant look. The relaxed posture and fluid movements were the exact opposite of what Castiel's had originally been and he felt sure that he'd never have pegged her for an angel at first glance if she hadn't just zapped into their room.  
  


* * *

  
"Is everything alright?" Castiel inquired, frowning.  
  
Xarael could easily have contacted him if something had come up and he was surprised that she had chosen to appear here instead of doing so. Especially since it required her to go find a vessel first least she harm Dean.  
  
"Yes, everything is fine, I just found the remaining book you were looking for and decided that I might as well bring it to you."  
  
Even as she spoke, Castiel could see her eyes wander to Dean and light up. Clearly the book had merely been an excuse to come, it was the Righteous Man whom she wanted to meet. He felt a wave of something crash over him, but he wasn't sure what it was, just that it was some emotion he wasn't familiar with and he didn't particularly like it. Whatever it was though, it refused to go away and actually grew as she approached the table they were seated at.  
  
"And you must be Dean Winchester, the Righteous Man," Xarael said as Dean rose to his feet. "I've heard a lot about you and have been wishing to meet you for some time now."  
  
"Oh, uh, well it's a pleasure to meet you too," Dean replied. "Cas has mentioned you."  
  
Castiel was on his feet and reaching for his sister before he'd even fully realized what he was doing. All he knew was that he didn't like this situation and he didn't like the way Dean was looking at her, or rather at her vessel really as he couldn't see Xarael herself. He wasn't sure why as he'd observed the hunter appraise countless women that way, but this time it bothered him in a way it never had before. Or, no, this time it bothered him far more than it ever had before. He had felt something similar to this a few of those times as well, but never quite this strong and he hadn't liked it then either. His dislike for it had grown in proportion to the strength of the emotion and he wasn't sure why.  
  
"Brother?" Xarael inquired as he pulled her backwards.  
  
"You're standing too close," Castiel explained. "Humans need at least six inches of space between you and them or it makes them uncomfortable."  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know."  
  
"That's okay, I'm starting to get used to it," Dean replied and Castiel couldn't quite make out the expression on his face.  
  
He didn't like that either, Castiel decided. He'd grown used to being able to better interpret what Dean was feeling by his facial expressions, but this was a new one and he had no point of reference for it. It seemed somewhat similar to the calculating way he appraised a new enemy or unknown creature, but it clearly wasn't that. Merely the focus behind it was the same, as was the way in which the hunter seemed to be looking for something that was eluding him.  
  
"There is one other thing," Xarael said.  
  
"What?" Castiel demanded, not sure what to make of her tone as it sounded so very different filtered through her vessel.  
  
"I overheard some of the Virtues talking earlier today."  
  
"The Virtues?" Dean questioned, drawing the attention of both angels back to him. "That some kind of special angel rank?"  
  
"Not a rank so much as a group of angels with a particular specialty, like the Cupids," Castiel explained. "The Virtues supervise the movements of the heavens and are thus more sensitive to the future and prophecy."  
  
"Dude, you've got angels that can see the future? And you haven't mentioned this before why exactly?"  
  
"I said they were more sensitive to the future, not that they could see the future any more clearly than the rest of us can. They can, however, usually see which of the possible futures is the right one before the rest of us, but this happens so shortly before a crucial decision or action is made as to not be helpful."  
  
"Most of the time," Xarael added. "There are occasions where they are able to see further ahead than that, but those are extremely rare."  
  
"Precisely," Castiel confirmed.   
  
"I see," Dean replied and Castiel could tell by the tone of his voice that the hunter hadn't really expected it to be any different.  
  
Unfortunately, his hunter had long ago learned never to expect good things from life and it was an outlook that Castiel wished to alter but it was not a goal he expected to ever actually achieve. Ever since he had first met the human, things had gone from bad to worse and he couldn't see anything to support his case that good things did happen. Dean needed real, hard evidence to make that kind of change to his way of thinking so examples from history or what happened to other people wouldn't do.  
  
"In addition, the Virtues are also more sensitive to the energy of life as that is what governs the movement of the heavens," Xarael explained.  
  
"Okay. So what were these virtuous ones saying then, when you overheard them?"  
  
Castiel saw Xarael's confusion at Dean's typical irreverence and rephrasing. The hunter seemed almost completely incapable of respecting authority or calling things by their true name. It was an observation he had made often and always with mixed feelings. Mostly the ease with which his charge did it baffled him as he had been created to obey orders unquestioningly and to respect the proper chain of command. And though he had learned much of free will, those old instincts were still there, only dying out slowly with time. He often wished it would happen faster as he had learned not to follow orders blindly anymore and his Father had rewarded him for it, but that simply didn't seem to be how this worked. As a consequence, Dean's ease with this was more often then not frustrating, though he respected the hunter for daring to go there as he had learned that most humans preferred to follow an authority figure than to stand against it even if they didn't always agree with them.  
  
A gentle nudge with his Grace had Xarael ending her long observation of Dean which was clearly starting to make the hunter uncomfortable and looking towards him. "He wants to know what you overheard, Sister."  
  
The feeling was back again. The one he'd had earlier when Xarael had first arrived and turned her attention to Dean. Castiel was no closer to identifying it now than he had been then and it frustrated him. Why did he not like the way his sister interacted with his friend? Or the way Dean reacted to her? There was clearly no malice there and he should be glad that he wasn't the only angel who could see the hunter's worth in his own right instead of as a vessel for Michael. It was something he would have to investigate later, especially if it might happen frequently when Dean met his other brothers and sisters as he wanted him too. The only way to prove to his charge that the majority of angels weren't 'dicks' was to allow him to meet them. Plus, if Heaven was to help truly end the Apocalypse, then they would need to work together.  
  
"They were saying that they'd felt a ripple in the energy like something had changed."


	16. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean comes to a startling revelation about Castiel's feelings towards him.

**PAST**  
  
  
Dean could only stare in shock and wonder as the new angel, Xarael apparently, bounced over towards where they were seated and he rose to his feet automatically. She was everything Castiel was not when it came to appearing to be comfortable in a vessel and how she moved in it. Though, he mused, it wasn't like he'd never met an angel who wasn't well suited to their vessel, Gabriel and Zachariah sprang straight to mind. He'd never really thought of that before, how easily they seemed to move, as if far more familiar with their vessels. Or perhaps, in Zachariah's case, because he'd taken vessels before? Gabriel he could understand, who knew how long the archangel had been in the poor guy, but Xarael? She was a mystery.  
  
Then Dean could only respond in embarrassment as Xarael started talking to him. He was so used to dealing with either scorn or disgust when it came to angels other than Cas that this seeming enthusiasm and adulation caught him completely off-guard. He should have seen it coming, though, given that Castiel seemed to both like Xarael and spend a lot of time with her. Who knew what fictionalized accounts he'd told her?  
  
Inevitably, Xarael's approach resulted in the invasion of his personal space and with her this close, Dean couldn't help a quick glance down her low cut top. Xarael's vessel really was very beautiful and well endowed. If she wasn't an angel, he'd definitely be flirting with her by now. Then, suddenly, Castiel was there, pulling her back a few paces to a more normal distance and informing her about how humans didn't like people standing quite so close to them. That they needed at least six inches of space.  
  
What the hell?  
  
Dean could only stare in shock and then quickly confirm Cas' words with a nod and accept Xarael's apology. Since when did Castiel care about personal space? The angel still stood far too close himself most of the time, so why was he so adamant that Xarael not do the same now? It didn't make any sense whatsoever, even for Castiel and  _that_  was saying a lot.  
  
Although Dean forced himself to not only pay attention to the rest of the conversation, but to participate as well, part of him kept mulling over this bizarre contradiction. His concentration also wasn't helped by the fact that another part of him was preoccupied with trying to figure out what else about Xarael and Castiel's behavior was bothering him. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something about it was wrong, off somehow. It finally hit him that it wasn't so much something that they were both doing, as a glaring difference between what they were doing.  
  
The realization hit him like a ton of bricks and Dean couldn't see how he hadn't spotted it immediately. Despite the fact that Xarael had all of the outward appearances of being more human when it came to how she moved, it was Castiel who had all of the true indicators of a more human disposition, namely the small ticks and more natural behaviors. Where Xarael stared him in the eyes from the moment she turned to him to the moment she looked back at her brother, Castiel would meet his eyes, but he'd also look down and he'd learned to glance away if Dean started to overtly fidget, not that he was doing that nearly as often as he would have done in the past.  
  
In addition to that, Cas also turned towards him when he stepped closer to look at the book Xarael had brought whereas Xarael seemed to remain in more or less the same position once she'd stopped bouncing around. So it seemed like her movements were more natural when going from A to B but once she was there, she just froze up. Castiel, on the other hand, seemed to slowly be working his way towards him and he had no doubt that, earlier speech or not, the angel would end up in his personal space.  
  
Now that he'd started thinking about the ways in which Castiel had slowly seemed to have become more human during his time on Earth, Dean found that he couldn't stop. Nor could he help but notice a few other things as well. And almost all of the instances that came to mind revolved around him. Not Sam, not Bobby, not really even Jo and Ellen who had done their damnest to get the angel drunk that one night, but him and him alone. Like the first time Dean had seen Castiel again after what they'd thought was the end of the Apocalypse. He'd just been coming out of the shower wearing nothing but a towel and the angel's eyes had definitely looked down at his naked chest for a moment. Just like he'd glanced down when he'd appeared in the shower with him all those months ago.  
  
Something gave Dean the impression that he could be naked now and Xarael wouldn't even notice. For all of her supposed adoration, she seemed surprisingly little aware of him in some odd way. He almost wondered if all she could see was his soul, or perhaps that his soul was all she focused on, ignoring the rest as insignificant. It was possible, he mused and seemed similar to the way Castiel had treated him at first. It was only after spending time here on Earth, mingling with humans, that the angel had seemed to start gaining an appreciation for the less spiritual side of human life.  
  
The thoughts strained towards another conclusion that seemed natural had the subject of his contemplation been human and Dean had to forcibly remind himself that this wasn't the case. Castiel was an angel, perhaps one with a far better understanding of humanity and the physical aspects of life than was normal, but an angel nonetheless, especially now that God had brought him back a second time and given him far greater powers than he'd had before. So he had to be wary of assigning too human an interpretation on his actions, but hadn't that been precisely what he'd been doing up to now?  
  
He might not have been doing it consciously most of the time, but on some level he must have been filtering things out. Dean was normally very good at reading people based on their body language and he was a bit surprised at himself that he hadn't noticed this earlier. The only thing he could think of was that he'd been automatically writing off all the clues as being the result of Castiel not knowing what normal human behavior was like and thus not realizing how his actions could be misinterpreted. The fact that he'd disregarded personal space from the get-go had gone a long way towards seeming to prove this theory. But now that he was confronted with another angel that seemed to have little or no experience in dealing with humans, the progress Cas had made became apparent and with it how unangelic, or rather different from before, some of his behaviors were.  
  
A part of Dean was begging him to acknowledge what all of this could mean, but the rest of him was far too wary. Just because it looked like Castiel might like him in that way didn't mean that the angel really did. He was loath to trust his instincts in this particular case as he had a vested interest in the answer and thus might skew the evidence to see what he wanted to. Besides, there was also the whole different species thing. Who knew what angels did when they really liked someone? For all he knew, the behaviors Castiel was displaying now were merely a part of his ever-growing awareness of how humans viewed and interacted with their environment and he was getting the brunt of that new attention simply by virtue of the fact that he was the human that Cas interacted with the most.  
  
Still, Dean had to admit that he hadn't seen Castiel show similar attention to Sam back when they'd still been together, or Bobby for that matter and the angel had known both of them well enough that he should have done so if a growing awareness was all that this was. So how to be certain without making a complete fool of himself? He supposed he could just put some of his theories to the test. Besides, now that he was thinking about it, he kept being able to find more and more things to back up what he now so desperately hoped to be true and who was he kidding? Any chance he'd had of not being hurt if the angel didn't feel the same way about him were long since gone.  
  
Dean knew himself too well to even try and dispute that particular fact. His growing attraction to Castiel would have been enough on its own to hurt him if it turned out the angel was even merely indifferent on the issue. Now that he had what the less rational part of his mind viewed as proof that Cas did care about him in that way, there was absolutely no hope of coming out of this unscratched. It was just that the evidence seemed to be piling up.  
  
On top of the shower incident and the post-shower incident, Dean now remembered the way Castiel had held him and touched him that night he'd zapped into his room only to find him asleep in his clothes on the covers. His back and scalp still tingled when he thought about those gentle fingers running over his bare skin. Then there was the way he kept insisting that he didn't like to see him in pain and the way he'd been so insistent that he stop drinking. Not to mention the way Cas had been getting him food lately and sticking around when he didn't have to. It was as if he just liked to spend time with him and that was something Dean didn't have all that much experience with. Most people seemed to constantly be leaving him for one reason or another, Sam in particular couldn't seem to find enough ways and reasons to do so.  
  
The thought of his brother pained Dean as always, but this time it also angered him at least as much as it hurt him. True, there had been anger before too, but it had almost always been the quick hot kind that burned itself out far too quickly. This, however, was the other kind, the one that burned lower but stayed, needing a reason, a justification, to go out. And he was finally starting to learn that the reason had to be a valid one, not just a generic 'I'm sorry, please forgive me' apology that was far too readily given and forgotten about as soon as something else came along.  
  


* * *

  
"They were saying that they'd felt a ripple in the energy like something had changed."  
  
"What do you mean 'like something had changed'?" Dean demanded, not liking the sound of that at all.  
  
"It means that something has happened again," Castiel explained. "Do you remember how I mentioned before that I felt Sam's resurrection?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"That was because it caused a massive ripple in the energy field of life."  
  
"That have anything to do with how the area around my gravesite looked like a bomb went off there?"  
  
"Yes, precisely. That type of event requires a lot of energy as it means altering the very fabric of life by opening portals between Perdition and Earth."  
  
"Okay, resurrection means a massive ripple felt by all angels, gotcha. What about this new one the Virties felt?"  
  
Castiel briefly looked like he felt the very human urge to sigh and Dean couldn't help but pause at that before filing it away for later contemplation.  
  
"From what they were saying, the Virtues didn't really know what to make of it. It had been a brief burst of energy that was gone almost as soon as it was generated," Xarael said. "No one else seems to have felt it."  
  
"So not as important than," Dean ventured.  
  
"It would appear so," Castiel agreed. "I shall endeavour to obtain more information from them when I return and let you know if it's anything of import."  
  
Dean snorted. "Right now, I think everything is of import," he prefixed the last word with air quotation marks, "since we don't really seem to have the first clue about what's going on."


	17. Chapter 16

**PAST**  
  
  
Over the course of the next two weeks, Dean put his new theory to the test. The entire time he felt like he was walking on eggshells around Castiel and sometimes wondered why he bothered, but then the urge to reach out and touch the angel or to kiss him or to pull him into bed rose within him and then he was fighting off the desire to just say screw it to his more careful plan and just jump right in with both feet. The fact that he was able to stop himself from doing that, from just rushing in recklessly, told him all he needed to know about how much was at stake here for himself. If he couldn't make himself do what he normally did, then he was in serious trouble.  
  
Trouble of the kind that he shied away from actually naming though he knew, on some level he refused to acknowledge, exactly what it meant.  
  
It was trouble of the kind he hadn't had since Cassie and the mere memory of what had happened then, of how much it had  _hurt_  then, was nearly enough to make him call the whole thing off and try to forget about it. But Dean found that he couldn't, not anymore. It was almost as if now that he had even a little proof that his feelings might be returned, he was no longer able to either ignore or bury them like before. Not like that had worked out so well, but he was good at trying and ignoring that which he didn't want to see so long as it wasn't shoved in his face.  
  
The first thing that Dean did was to reenact one of the scenes that had already transpired to check and see that he'd really seen what he thought he had. And, sure enough, when he managed to time things right so that he exited the bathroom in nothing but a flimsy towel while Castiel was there, the angel's eyes definitely dropped below face level and he was even pretty sure that they followed a droplet of water as it rolled down his chest. Okay, so that indicated that Cas was more aware of his body than your average angel. The question now was what it meant.  
  
Next, Dean arranged things so that he was constantly standing closer to the angel than he normally would have been, just so he could see what Castiel would do. What the angel had said to Xarael clearly indicated that not only had he remembered their little chat about personal space, but he knew how to act accordingly as well if he so desired. Predictably, Castiel didn't move to distance himself and instead closed the space between them though he normally didn't initiate any contact unless Dean did something overtly to indicate that it might be welcome, like leaning in to speak with him or gesturing for Cas to come closer to see something. At those times the angel seemed to use the opportunity to touch and he maintained the contact unless he was told to stop it or Dean himself moved away.  
  
The more subtle things Dean tried, just to be absolutely sure that he wasn't misreading things, also all came out in his favor. Like when he'd deliberately lick his lips while talking with Castiel, the angel's eyes always followed the movement and he'd seen him mimic it more than once, though whether that was done consciously or not, he didn't know. He had also, quite accidentally, discovered that Cas' eyes would glance down if he stretched enough to pull his shirt up to expose a small expanse of skin. He'd honestly not been trying to test Castiel at that point, he'd just needed to stretch, but given what he'd been doing lately, some part of him had been analyzing every look and gesture the angel made and he'd caught it. When he'd done it again two days later, this time deliberately, it had garnered the same response.  
  
In addition to those more overtly physical reactions, Dean had discovered another whole set of little things Castiel did that went above and beyond what might be expected of a normal friend. Among those were the way the angel went out of his way to get him things like pie that he knew he'd like or to stay when he felt that Dean needed some company even though the time could have been better spent in Heaven doing whatever Cas did up there. Things like that went right along with the other small things he'd noticed from before. Like the way Castiel had held him while he was sick after the initial realization of Sammy's betrayal, and how the angel had comforted him afterwards, sitting on a cold bathroom floor in order to do so.  
  
So, yeah, Dean was pretty sure that Castiel did, in fact, like him like that. Something which made a large part of him want to jump up and dance for joy, another part of him, however, was far more cautious. It kept trying to remind him of how horribly this could go wrong. Hell, it had gone horribly wrong for him before and while there wasn't the issue of Castiel not knowing who and what he really was like with Cassie, there was the fact that his new interest wasn't human. He was an angel and Dean didn't have the first clue as to how that could change things. He had absolutely no experience when it came to this type of interaction with angels, the whole deal with Anna had been all about being human.  
  
For all he knew, angels didn't experience things physically like that. Sure, Castiel seemed to have noticed his body as well as the rest of him, but Dean knew that didn't mean much. None of that, however, seemed to be making any kind of impact on the less rational part of him. It still wanted to do this, to have this, despite the fact that it could seriously jeopardize his last remaining relationship. If he fucked this up then that was it, he'd be completely on his own.  
  
The thought alone scared Dean enough that he resolved to shelve the whole issue instead of risking it. He'd done the completely alone thing several times before now and he couldn't face that again, not if it was in his power to prevent it. On top of that, he'd started to get the sneaking suspicion that Castiel didn't have the first clue as to what was going on. That he didn't understand his own feelings on the matter as he seemed confused quite often after many of the incidents he'd noticed, as if trying to puzzle out why he'd done some of those things. It was endearing in a way that Dean would never admit to, even under torture.  
  
It was better to let Castiel remain confused than to expose him to the churning miasma that was human emotion on this level. Besides, he saw no need to risk pointing it out to the angel just in case this type of attachment to a human was strictly forbidden among his kind. He'd already seen Castiel admonished for the relationship they'd forged back at the beginning of their acquaintance, back before they'd even been friends. There was no need to unnecessarily risk making things more complicated for the angel then they already were, especially when that risk came right along with the risk that he'd drive off his friend and wind up alone.  
  
At least that had been his resolution and he'd definitely intended to follow it through. He should have known better than to think he could keep to it, especially with Castiel involved.  
  


* * *

  
"What is a blowjob?"  
  
Dean inhaled the beer he'd been drinking at the angel's sudden appearance and unexpected question. "What?" he finally sputtered after he'd coughed up half a lung and managed to draw in a few breaths.  
  
Castiel looked slightly sheepish just then, something Dean hadn't even thought possible, but it served him right for surprising him like that. Christ, but he hadn't reacted so badly to one of the angel's unannounced visits in months and he wasn't used to it anymore.  
  
"What is a blowjob?"  
  
Yeah, so he'd heard what he thought he had despite being sure he'd misunderstood things somehow. "Shh, not so loud!"  
  
"I'm not speaking loudly, Dean, merely at my normal level."  
  
"Yeah, which is too loud for this type of conversation."  
  
A quick glance around to check and see if anyone had overheard Castiel's question and Dean frowned. It seemed like one of the guys in the next booth over might have heard something. He'd been eyeing that guy as a potential mark for later when he started hustling, but now he scratched him off the list. It just wasn't worth the risk anymore.  
  
"What type of conversation?"  
  
"Ones about blowjobs, well when there isn't a chick involved in the conversation anyway. And where the hell did you hear about blowjobs anyway?"  
  
No, that wasn't jealousy that Dean was feeling, it really wasn't. It was discomfort. He was discomforted at the fact that someone might have tried something on his innocent friend. Nor was his heart speeding up at the thought that Castiel was inquiring about sexual acts, it was just some stupid evolutionary response to a friend having been potentially threatened or mistreated, that was all. It was-  
  
Yeah, fuck, he wasn't deceiving himself, not this time.  
  
"A bar in Massachusetts."  
  
"A bar in, wait a minute, what were you doing in a bar? You drinking again now? 'Cause I gotta say, after that stunt you pulled with me, that'd be so not cool."  
  
"I was following up a lead on one of the unusual occurrences."  
  
"Oh. And how'd that go?"  
  
"The trail ran cold, but while I was there I heard two women talking about blowjobs and sex on the beach," Castiel explained, a confused expression on his face. "One was saying she liked blowjobs better but the other insisted that the sex on the beach in that bar was the best ever. But there was neither a beach in the bar nor anyone having sex. And I do not know the term blowjob or why it might be better than sex on the beach."  
  
Dean tried to hold in his laughter, he really did, but it was a lost cause to begin with and he soon found himself holding his sides and doing his best not to roll out of the booth. It was amazing, really, how Castiel could make him laugh more than he had in years without even intending to tell a joke or make him laugh. This was like the brothel incident all over again and the thought of that incident only made him laugh that much harder. When he was finally able to control himself, he expected to look up to find his friend annoyed at having been laughed at. Instead the expression on the angel's face was a mixture of wonder and self-satisfaction.  
  
It made Dean pause and it wasn't until a few minutes later that he realized they were doing the staring thing again. Luckily the bar was dimly lit and no one seemed to have noticed their odd behavior, or not so they'd been staring at them for it anyway. He briefly wondered what had fascinated Castiel so much about what he'd done, but then figured it was just that his friend didn't see him laughing much.  
  
"They're drinks, Cas," Dean finally explained. "Well, in this particular case they are."  
  
"There is a drink called sex on the beach?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
Castiel looked thoughtful for a moment. "So why is it called sex on the beach?"  
  
"'Cause it's a mixed drink and they had to give it a new name instead of listing all of the ingredients. Besides, they hope it'll sell better with a name like that."  
  
"So what is a blowjob really, other than a mixed drink name?"  
  
Dean hadn't felt so uncomfortable about sex since he was a teenager about to do it for the first time with another guy. It was just that he couldn't seem to help himself. Talking about this with Castiel made him think about sex and thinking about sex while with the angel was obviously a bad idea as it gave him all kinds of ideas. Most especially with this talk about blowjobs and he had to fight down the arousal he could feel blossoming within him. No, dammit, he'd decided not to do this!  
  
"It's an... ah, type of sex act."  
  
"Oh."  
  
And the angel looked as uncomfortable again as he had done in the brothel when confronted with Chastity. It made Dean snort with laughter even as it caused a pang within him. It was pretty clear that Castiel wasn't at all comfortable with the idea of sexual intimacy, which really should be enough for him to drop his perverted desires. Trust him to want the guy who was so pure as to not know the first thing about sex. Trust him to want the millennia-old virgin.  
  
He really was his own worst enemy most of the time.  
  
"I still do not understand why they would name drinks thus."  
  
"What can I say? We're human," Dean replied. "Hey, you ever had a mixed drink before?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Okay, you know what, how about you try one, hmm? Then you might understand."  
  
Besides, Dean had a sneaking suspicion that Castiel might like the frou-frou girly drinks better than he liked beer or whiskey. Sure, the angel had drunk them, but he'd almost always pulled a face when Dean saw him doing so. The addition of other flavors might make the alcohol go down smoother.  
  
"If you think it's a good idea."  
  
"Trust me, it is."  
  
Dean was on his feet and off to the bar already. In addition to finding something Castiel might like, it would look better if the angel was drinking, make him stand out less, even if he would garner some attention for drinking something so girly.  
  
"What can I get you?"  
  
The bartender was a little younger than himself, blond, wearing a very revealing top and clearly interested in him and Dean found himself giving her one of his best smiles out of habit. It took him a few seconds to realize that, much as he'd often claimed to Sammy, he really was doing it as a way of interacting with her rather than out of any real interest. She was everything he'd normally go after and would be here until he was done hustling, so he'd have hours to tease her from afar but, somehow, he just wasn't feeling it this time. He had absolutely no desire to do more than flirt with her and even that would be halfhearted at best.  
  
Yeah, he was so completely screwed it wasn't even funny.  
  
"A beer and a sex on the beach please, sweetheart."  
  
Her eyebrows rose in surprise, purposefully looking around him towards his booth, indicating that she'd spotted him earlier already.  
  
"Yeah, I know," Dean answered the unasked question, biting down the sudden urge to leap to Castiel's defense. "What can I say?"  
  
She shrugged, turning her attention back to him. "It takes all sorts, I guess."  
  
It wasn't long before Dean had his drinks and was making his way back to their booth. "Here you go, try this," he said, placing the drink before Cas. "One sex on the beach."  
  
"It is an unusual color."  
  
"Most mixed drinks are."  
  
Dean took a pull from his bottle and found the angel's eyes trained on him, a small frown on his face. "Relax," he soothed, touched rather than annoyed. "It's only my second one of the evening and I need to be seen drinking or no one will play pool with me later."  
  
"You are short on money."  
  
"Getting there."  
  
He wondered at the expression on Castiel's face. The angel clearly didn't like what he did to earn his living, but what was Dean to do? He couldn't exactly get himself a normal job and stopping to do odds and ends everywhere was not only far too time-consuming, but also too unreliable. This way he could rake in far larger sums in one go and he knew he'd almost always score as he was really good at reading his opponents and making them underestimate him.  
  
Instead of saying anything, Castiel took a cautious sip of his drink and Dean smiled at the startled and amazed expression that crossed his face. Looks like he'd been right about the angel's tastes. That pleased him though he had to resign himself to ordering more cocktails in the future and being seen drinking with a guy that liked paper umbrella drinks. At least most of the country didn't give those god-awful fake plastic beads with them.  
  
The silence that stretched between them felt comfortable and Dean was more than content to simply sit there and enjoy it. He could hustle tomorrow, he wasn't that low on cash as to need to break the moment. He wondered what it said about him that he was happy to just enjoy his beer and didn't feel the need to fill the silence as he watched the angel finish his own drink, clearly still enjoying it.  
  
"Can I have a blowjob now?" Castiel asked.  
  
Dean choked on his beer again.


	18. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam finally receives word from his brother.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
Sam had been elated when he'd recognized the number the text came from, it was one he'd memorized years ago. Although they regularly used different sim cards to help them with their work, Dad had taught them long ago the value of having a number they could always be reached at. Both in case of emergencies and so that people could reliably contact them if they needed help. The question of how Dean had gotten his number hadn't seemed particularly important just then, simply that his brother was  _finally_  contacting him.  
  
The question of how he knew to do so, because as far as Dean was concerned he was still in Hell, didn't occur to him until much later.  
  
If the situation wasn't so serious, Sam was sure that Christian and Gwen would have teased him mercilessly for the way he'd reacted to that text. As it was, however, the contents of the text had swiftly dampened his joy. Instead of there being anything useful inside pertaining to how his brother was and what he'd been doing since abandoning Lisa and Ben, all it had contained was a set of coordinates. If it hadn't been for Dad's habit of doing exactly the same thing, he'd have been sure it was a trap. Even with that precedent, however, he still wasn't one hundred percent sure that it wasn't, especially since all his subsequent calls and texts to Dean had gone completely unanswered.  
  
Christian had been opposed to going at all, but Sam had Samuel in his corner and Gwen had been willing to do it so long as they scoped out the situation enough in advance. Mark had been mute on the subject as he was on most issues, willing to follow the majority decision. A quick Google search had revealed that the indicated spot was a deserted stretch of road in the middle of nowhere in Nevada. The topography suggested that an ambush would be nigh on impossible as the area was completely flat in a fifty-mile radius.  
  
Dean had chosen his rendezvous spot well if he intended to put everyone as at ease as possible given the circumstances. It only served to make Sam strangely nervous about it all as what reason could his older brother possibly have to be so secretive about things? To feel the need to select such a careful spot and organize the met in this manner? A quick call to Bobby had confirmed that he too had received a similar text and no further contact despite numerous attempts to do so. They'd arranged to meet up at the nearest town and then do the last stretch together.  
  
Which was where they were now.  
  
"Well, can you make out any more yet?" Samuel demanded impatiently.  
  
"That was five minutes ago," Sam snapped back, lowering the binoculars.  
  
He was starting to wonder who wanted to see Dean more, himself or his grandfather. The thought made Sam frown. From the get-go, Samuel had seemed very interested in getting Dean to join them and it had irked him to no end. All of a sudden his perfect family had started to resemble his old one with Dad always praising and doting on his older brother while he got left out in the cold, unable to do anything right. Oh, he knew the last wasn't true now, but still, this incessant need of his grandfather's to get Dean to join them annoyed him. He'd told the older man about how much his brother had changed and how it was better that he was no longer hunting, but still Samuel couldn't seem to leave it alone.  
  
"Don't take that tone with me, Sam Winchester."  
  
Sam bit back the desire to tell his grandfather that he wasn't the boss of him and that he didn't have to take his orders. It was hard, but he managed it, not wanting to come across as childish or petulant. This was also a really bad time for an argument as they could still be walking into a trap of some kind and needed to have as much of their attention focused on their surroundings as possible. He could deal with this later.  
  
"All I can see is a black smudge in the distance that is probably the Impala."  
  
Or at least he hoped it was the Impala, Sam wasn't sure else it could be, but somehow the thought of the Impala not being there made his stomach churn. Dean wouldn't abandon his baby, so her absence would be a clear sign that something was not only wrong, but horrible so.  
  
Slowly, as they got closer and closer to the provided coordinates, Sam was able to make out more detail which he faithfully relayed to his grandfather. The first thing to become clear was that it really was the Impala that he'd noticed earlier. She was parked on the sand off the side of the road, glistening in the warm afternoon sun. The next to emerge from the haze were the indistinct shapes of several people.  
  
Several.  
  
They had only been expecting Dean and this new revelation had unsettled Sam and he could tell his grandfather didn't like it either. Quick calls to Bobby and Gwen had confirmed his sightings and they all felt the same unease. What was going on here? Who was with his brother and why? Had Dean hooked up with some random hunters he'd come across? It didn't seem likely to Sam, as his brother had hunted alone before despite knowing other hunters, not to mention the fact that things were still tenuous at best for them within the larger hunting community. What with his name being attached to Apocalypse and all and Dean's own reputation for sticking to family like glue.  
  
So, yeah, Sam didn't like this situation in the slightest, but he wasn't going to let this new development prevent him from seeing his brother. At the very least he had to ensure that Dean was aware of the djinn threat. Not to mention the fact that he wanted to have words with his brother about the way he'd broken his promise and abandoned the Braedens. Was that perhaps why his older brother had brought others along? Because he knew Sam had every reason to chew him out for what he'd done? It wouldn't surprise him coming from Dean, not in the slightest. He always had gone to great lengths to avoid confrontations of this nature.  
  
It was only when they were even closer that Sam could make out which of the four figures he saw was his brother. Not surprisingly, Dean was leaning back against the side of the Impala, one foot resting on the edge of her undercarriage and his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket. God, it had to be nearly ninety degrees out and his brother was still dressed in as many layers as he usually wore. What was far more surprising and which stunned Sam speechless for a few moments was the figure standing close beside his brother.  
  
Castiel.  
  
For a moment he was back in Stull Cemetery, having just watched Michael go up in holy fire before he whirled on Castiel, or rather Lucifer did and he was helpless to do anything but watch as the devil clicked his fingers and the other angel burst apart just as Chuck had described. He tried to shake the horrible memory, but the sight of the angel standing there beside Dean, as if nothing had happened, was almost too much for him. Yes, he knew that God had brought Castiel back to life once more just like he'd done before, Bobby had told him that much, but he hadn't realized that he was back on Earth. According to Bobby, he had told Dean he was returning to Heaven and they'd all assumed it was permanently.  
  
The thought caused anger to rise within him. He had called for Castiel, it was the first thing that Sam had done once he'd realized he really was out of Hell. Then he'd remembered the angel's death and assumed that was why he didn't reply until he'd learned otherwise from Bobby. After that he'd decided that either Castiel couldn't respond anymore or that he was through with them in particular and humans in general. Clearly that wasn't the case. Obviously it was just him that Castiel was through dealing with, Dean however was an exception as usual.  
  
It was difficult for Sam not to let the bitterness overwhelm him as it swelled within him. He was happy to be seeing his brother once more after so long, he really was. He just wished that for once Castiel and the other angels would see his brother for what he truly was instead of all this prophecy bullshit they relied so heavily on. Castiel of all angels should know it didn't mean jack shit. He'd been there, after all, at the end and seen how ultimately Dean had done very little to bring about the end of the Apocalypse despite all that he'd been prophesized to do.  
  
So why on Earth was Castiel with Dean now? What was it about his brother that drew the angel to him? Sam honestly didn't get it. Dean had never been religious and had actually been almost anti-religion on those few occasions where he had expressed an opinion about it. Dean had never believed and he'd definitely never prayed, so why did he now get a guardian angel while Sam, who'd always believed and prayed, had been left in the cold when he'd needed Heavenly help the most? It made absolutely no sense and he could feel the injustice of it all welling up inside of him, too strong to be pushed aside completely.  
  
"Castiel?" Samuel repeated, drawing Sam's attention back to the present and he realized the last thing he'd said was the angel's name. "That the angel who helped you and your brother?"  
  
"Yeah, that's him, Cas for short."  
  
"You gave an angel a nickname?"  
  
"Dean did," Sam replied defensively at the disbelief in his grandfather's tone. "It just kinda stuck."  
  
"Yeah, that sounds like him."  
  
Sam had to bite back his automatic response to that comment. Just who did his grandfather think he was to believe that he knew what Dean was like? So he'd known him for a few days, big deal, it wasn't like Dean showed who he really was around virtual strangers. Despite that, his grandfather really seemed to think he knew who Dean was and Sam was pretty sure that he was in for a few nasty shocks once he got to know him. Anyone who was going up against those kinds of unrealistic expectations was sure to disappoint. He wondered if perhaps this seeming obsession had to do with his mother. More than once Samuel had said that his older brother was like Mom and he wondered if this was perhaps his grandfather's way of dealing with her death. Sure, it had happened nearly three decades ago, but that wasn't the way it seemed for Samuel. No, for the older man it was as if she had died a mere year ago as that was when he'd been brought back to life and discovered she was dead.  
  
The thought disturbed Sam on some fundamental level and he thought he now had an inkling of what had bothered Dean so very much about Heaven after their little trip there. He'd been quite happy with it in a lot of ways as it had shown him that it wouldn't be more of the same as he'd started to dread after having interacted with a number of angels who were, as Dean had so aptly named them, dicks with wings. It had been reassuring to him to see that Heaven wasn't controlled by those same angels to the point where human souls were forced to experience what they wanted them to. No, instead it had shown him that they got to relive the best of their Earthly lives, not a bad deal as far as he was concerned. Especially if it meant not having to deal with all of the bad stuff.  
  
Regardless of the reason why it had happened, Sam was pretty sure his grandfather was in for a bit of a surprise during this meeting and he had to admit, he was kinda interested in seeing how it went. Well, if he could keep Dean from trying to kill the old man seeing as his first thought was likely to be evil supernatural of some kind.  
  
"Who are the others?" Samuel demanded.  
  
"What? Oh, right."  
  
Sam pulled himself from his thoughts and turned the binoculars to the other two people waiting by the Impala, ruthlessly trying to shove aside the pain of Castiel's betrayal. The first figure was a woman, she seemed to be about fifty to sixty years of age, tall and slender. She had graying dark brown hair and eyes that seemed familiar to him in an odd way though he was sure that he'd never seen her before. The second figure was a man of indeterminate age and African-American heritage. He stood further back from the rest, a ways behind the Impala whereas the woman stood abreast with it, though about ten feet away from where it was parked.  
  
They were intentionally spread out, Sam realized. It was similar to the way that Samuel and Christian had decided to approach Dean. As soon as they got within half a mile of the rendezvous, the other two cars would pull onto the side of the road and they'd ride the rest of the way abreast of each other. And wasn't that just great? All that Sam had wanted was to protect his brother from the djinn out to kill him and somehow they had ended up with this scenario where each of them brought others and came at the meeting as if expecting to be stabbed in the back.  
  
Just what did that say about them?  
  
"I don't know the others, but can you tell how they've placed themselves?"  
  
"I noticed. Any clue what's going on here?"  
  
"Your guess is as good as mine. Who knows what Dean's gotten himself into this time."


	19. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Desperate for a distraction so he won't break his resolution, Dean tries to pick up a girl. It's working fine until Castiel suddenly shows up.

**PAST**  
  
  
"You got a place nearby?" the chick whose name Dean couldn't even remember asked, her hand trailing slowly, oh so slowly, down his chest.  
  
"Just across the road," Dean replied, nipping at her ear as he inhaled her scent, rich with musk and perfume.  
  
Right now it seemed almost inconceivable to him how much trouble he'd had earlier, when he first came into the place, in finding someone that interested him. Dean should have known that all he'd needed to get himself revved up was close contact with someone who was attractive. He'd spent years hooking up with beautiful strangers in a desperate bid to fill the emptiness inside of himself and to be touched. There had never been anything deeper present with any of them, so why he felt the need for it now, he wasn't sure. He'd managed to move on after Cassie, he'd be able to move on past this... this  _thing_  with Castiel as well.  
  
"Good, 'cause I so hate waiting."  
  
Dean laughed. "Someone after my own heart. We're gonna have fun tonight."  
  
He let his hand reach up to cup a breast, kneading it softly as he leaned close for a hungry kiss. The chick- Alice? Alison? Alana?- moaned against him, clutching his bicep with her free hand. Dean knew that he really should get this show moving before they got into trouble for groping in public, but a part of him was hesitant to do so. Yes, the motel was just across the street, but he'd texted the location to Castiel the other day when he'd arrived, hardly even stopping to think about it since it had become so normal for him to do so. Given the angel's ever-increasing penchant for dropping by unannounced, he was suddenly afraid of what might happen if he took the girl back there with him.  
  
The urge to just shrug off the thought and tell Castiel it was his own fault for zapping in like that was so weak as to almost be nonexistent. Dean nearly paused in his ministrations at the realization. Crap, now what? He really did want to get laid, it had been far too long and he needed something to take his mind off of both Castiel and the situation with Sam.  
  
It was almost as if his thoughts had summoned the angel, because the next thing Dean knew, Castiel was there, right at his shoulder and standing far too close as normal.  
  
"Dean."  
  
The girl- Alison, Dean was sure of it now- shrieked and jumped in surprise. The sudden movement caused her to slip from her precarious position in Dean's lap and her leg hit him in a rather delicate location and he drew in a sharp breath at the pain, hands tightening on her in reflex.  
  
"Shit, I'm sorry!"  
  
Before Dean could say anything, Castiel was reaching out, grabbing Alison's arm and dragging her off of him. Alison shrieked again at the rough treatment.  
  
"The fuck are you doing? Let go of me!"  
  
"You were hurting him," Castiel stated, not releasing her until she was standing on the other side of him from Dean.  
  
"Yeah, because you startled me."  
  
"Cas, leave her alone," Dean said, recovering enough to be annoyed. "What's up anyway? Is something wrong?"  
  
"No. I merely wished to see you."  
  
The sharp intake of breath from Alison made Dean look at her and he realized that he'd had his eyes locked on Castiel's once more. His heart sank at the emotions that crossed her face and he knew this was it. Whatever she'd been prepared to do with him even just moments before was completely gone now.  
  
"Alison-"  
  
"It's Alice, asshole, and you can go fuck yourself!"  
  
With those words, Alice turned around and stormed off, vanishing into the crowd of the games hall. Dean watched her go, trying to shove aside the mixed emotions that rose within him as he really didn't want to have to deal with them right now. The whole point of coming over here to this stupid new finagled hotspot was to find someone to fuck so he could forget about everything else. He'd promised Castiel he wouldn't drink himself into oblivion anymore and he honestly didn't want to, but he needed something and his libido was working overtime from the angel's frequent presence so this had seemed like a good idea. Work off some of the stress and hopefully having sex would cool his libido enough for him to start thinking more clearly. Then he could start the laborious process of moving beyond all of this.  
  
Or at least that had been his reasoning at the time. Now, sitting within touching distance of Castiel, Dean knew it wouldn't be that easy, no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise.  
  
"Dean, I-"  
  
"Ack!" Dean snapped out raising a finger in warning. "Not one word, not one word, you got me?"  
  
Dean only glanced at Castiel long enough to confirm that he'd gotten the message before he looked away, painfully getting to his feet. Then, figuring that the angel would either follow him or fly off, he pushed his way past people towards the exit, ignoring the cries of protest at his careless disregard for anyone who was in his way. He couldn't believe it, he really couldn't. He'd been so close to scoring, so close, and Castiel had to show up  _now_ of all times? Surely the angel had learned enough about human behavior to recognize what was going on and to know better than to interrupt, but he'd done so anyway. The question was why.  
  
Somehow, Dean managed to wait until they'd made it back to his motel room and the door was closed before he whirled around to face the angel. The fact that he knew this would be an awkward and intense conversation had helped him do so, but it was still a close thing. He wasn't generally known for his ability to hold back when it came to things like this, he usually just blurted out the first thing that came to mind.  
  
"What the hell was that, Cas?" Dean finally demanded.  
  
"I... I don't know."  
  
"What do you mean, you don't know? Dude, I was about to score! Do you know how long it's been since I had sex?"  
  
The words seemed to hit Castiel like fists and the angel flinched, much to Dean's astonishment.  
  
"I know, I just... I was going to go away, to leave you with her, but then... it just seemed wrong, she seemed wrong and I couldn't just leave her with you. I had to get you away from her. From her touch and... I don't know why, I'm sorry."  
  
Oh, shit, the angel was jealous. The realization stunned Dean speechless for a few long moments. He'd never had anyone be jealous of him in that way before. Sure, he'd been envied, he'd seen it when he'd managed to get the girl that half the guys at the bar had their eye on or when he made away big at pool or poker, but this was completely different. This was someone who was jealous because his own attention had been elsewhere. Because he'd been focused on someone other than Castiel. A sense of wonder filled him at the thought that his angel could like him that much to want the focus he'd given the chick directed at himself.  
  
At the same time, the feeling worried him. Dean had decided to keep his own feelings for the angel hidden because Castiel seemed to have little or no interest in sex and he was pretty sure that he didn't understand or realize what he was feeling, but this, this jealousy, it changed everything. If Cas was going to start acting on his feelings like this, then things had to change. Dean didn't want to make things all that much more complicated for his friend, not now when they had the Apocalypse looming, but he couldn't leave things as they were either. If the angel didn't understand the feelings, then they were more likely to crop up at inopportune times and he couldn't risk Castiel getting jealous of anyone he interacted with.  
  
Or of reacting the way he had now every time Dean needed to talk with someone. Damnit, so much for his decision not to make things more difficult for Castiel by opening this can of worms. He'd already seen the angel struggle with other, lesser human emotions and had wanted to spare him these. Chances were it was just going to go wrong anyway and that type of heartbreak was not something an angel deserved, especially not one like Cas who had already sacrificed so much and been hurt so often for doing the right thing. But it didn't look like he had much choice in the matter anymore.  
  
The thing was, Dean really wasn't sure how to start this conversation. How did you tell an angel that you thought he might like you more than he should? More than as a friend and that what he was experiencing now was jealousy? He doubted that even Sam or a normal person would know how to start that particular talk and he was damned if he knew how. Above and beyond his dislike of chick flick moments, he hated awkward conversations with their stilted dialogue and lengthy pauses. He'd rather face another set of crazed werewolves on the new moon than begin this particular talk.  
  
"It's alright, Cas," Dean finally said in lieu of anything else. "It's my fault, I knew you were feeling things you, ah, didn't understand and I didn't say anything."  
  
Castiel's eyes grew large as he tilted his head to study him. "You know what I've been feeling? What this new emotion means?"  
  
"Yeah, I should have said something and- I'm sorry, okay, but I just couldn't."  
  
"You are uncomfortable."  
  
Dean snorted. Trust the angel to come right out and state the obvious. It was still refreshing, though, especially now, after all the lies he'd been dealing with for the past two years. It felt good, really good, to know that he could trust Castiel to be brutally honest with him on all things instead of lying or keeping things from him and going behind his back. He tried to stamp out the anger and bitterness that rose within him as he thought of all that Sammy had done. Now was not the time to deal with that, now he was busy with his friend.  
  
"Ya think? Look, Cas, this is not something I usually talk about."  
  
"I don't wish to make you do something you do not want to."  
  
The sentiment warmed Dean, but he knew that he really had to address this now, before things got any worse. But he just didn't know what to say, he so really wasn't a word person. He-  
  
Dean stopped himself short as he realized that he really didn't have to use words. They'd never been his strong suit and he had always been far more tactile than anything else and the past few weeks had shown him that Castiel didn't mind his touch in the least. If he was going to out the angel to himself, he might as well do it in a way that made an impact.  
  
Decision made, Dean stepped up close, more than invading Castiel's personal space. He watched his friend's eyes widen slightly but saw absolutely no wariness or unease in them and so continued without pause. He used one hand to angle Cas' head and then leaned in and kissed him. He kept it light and chaste, but the effect on him was electrifying. Somehow, despite the relative innocence of it, it was far better than almost any other kiss.  
  
It was also different from any other kiss that Dean had ever had. He could literally feel the power that hummed just beneath the surface of Castiel's skin; the power of an archangel. It cracked against his skin and lips in little shocks of pleasure, making him moan. And, although both of their mouths were closed, he could definitely taste something on his lips when he pulled away and unconsciously licked them. It was unlike anything he had ever tasted before and he wondered if it was something of Castiel's true form leaking through onto his vessel. It made him think of lightning and thunder, of the sizzle in the air just before a good storm and the taste of snow stinging the back of his throat before the first flakes even fell.  
  
The look on Castiel's face was caught between shock and disbelief. His eyes still as wide as before though now they were hooded, dark with some emotion that Dean couldn't read.  
  
"Tell me what you're feeling, Cas," Dean requested softly.  
  
"I... I don't know, I've never felt anything like this before."  
  
Well, that was definitely a good sign and Dean treasured it even as he sympathized with Castiel. He knew how confusing and frightening the flood of this type of emotion could be and he'd known what was happening. To experience it without having the first clue as to what was going on...  
  
"Did you like the kiss?"  
  
"Yes, very much so."  
  
As if to prove the point, Castiel leaned forwards, looking for more. It was just a soft brush of lips, an innocent exploration, but Dean felt it right down to his soul and he wanted more. He wanted to shove Cas up against the wall and ravage his mouth, to strip him and touch him everywhere. Yet he didn't want to do anything to spook the angel either, not to mention the fact that he wanted Cas to like this. No, he wanted him to love this as much as he did, to see what an amazing thing this type of intimacy between two people could be. He didn't even pretend to tell himself it would be anything other than that, all he had to do was remember what it had been like to be with Cassie to know that and he knew he cared for Castiel far more than he ever had for her.  
  
With Cassie it had been a short, quick thing. It had flared up between them impossibly fast, he'd only been passing through after all and had never intended to stay there longer then he did for any other hunt. And it had ended just as rapidly with him opening his big fat mouth and telling her things which his father had ordered him never to tell anyone else, but he'd been young, stupid and in love and believed the latter would conquer all. That wasn't the case now, no this had been a very long time in coming, slowly growing between them until they found themselves here, now and he wanted it to last. For the first time, the thought of being with someone for the foreseeable future didn't scare the crap out of him as it always had before.  
  
If that meant taking things slow, Dean found that he was surprisingly okay with that. In fact, a part of him even liked the idea. That he would be the one to introduce Castiel to sex, that he would be the one to show him everything and how wonderful it could be, turned him on so fast it made his head swim. He'd never been very big on deflowering virgins, not since he'd been a teenager fumbling his way through sex as much as the next guy, as sex had always been about having fun for him. About having a good time and virgins inevitably were nervous and afraid of doing the wrong thing. But now, with Cas, something told him that it would be different. It wouldn't be just about chasing an orgasm or two, about a night of pleasure before he was on the road again never to see that person again.  
  
"Do you want to touch me?" Dean asked, pulling back enough to see the angel's face.  
  
Castiel's eyes flared and he knew he'd guessed right.  
  
"Yes, please."  
  
"Then go ahead," Dean encouraged, stealing a few more chaste kisses.  
  
At the tentative touches to his arms, Dean brought his own hands up again, one to the angel's face and the other his back. As he'd hoped, Castiel followed his lead, one hand coming up to cup his face and the other sliding up his arm to rest on his chest, slightly above his heart. When he pulled away this time, it was to nuzzle further into the hand touching his face and he turned his head slightly to kiss the palm, eliciting a sharp intake of breath. Opening his eyes, Dean felt the breath catch in his throat at the look on Castiel's face. It was a mix between awe, amazement and wonder and he opened his mouth to tell him that no, he totally wasn't worth that, but the words refused to come.  
  
Then Castiel stroked his face and his expression changed to confusion, his head tilting sideways in that bird-like way of his and the moment passed. Dean was suddenly able to breathe again, though his heart was still racing a mile a minute. It took a few tries, but he was finally able to wet his mouth enough to actually talk.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
His voice was rough, low and wrecked and it seemed to further the angel's confusion.  
  
"Your face, it goes from soft to rough."  
  
That brought a smile to Dean's face. "It's the stubble, guys who shave have it."  
  
"Hmm," Castiel replied and seemed perfectly content to just stand there, touching and watching him.  
  
Dean used the observation to push aside his own desire for  _more, now_.  
  
"It's so different," Castiel continued.  
  
"From what?"  
  
"The skin on your back, it was soft and warm."  
  
The memory of laying in bed beside the angel, almost completely naked with those hands on him caused another bolt of desire to shoot through Dean and his eyes dropped closed as he bit his lip to prevent the moan that rose within him from escaping. By the time he had some measure of control over himself again, Castiel's fingers had started moving on his face in a soft, exploratory touch. He opened his eyes to find himself the center of Castiel's intense focus as those fingers ran over his bottom lip, still caught between his teeth. He released it and shivered as the dry fingers trailed over it, catching slightly on the moisture. Then they trailed upwards, along his cheek to his nose and he closed his eyes once more, allowing Cas to gently trace his eyelids and then underneath, along his eyelashes.  
  
When the touch trailed away from his eyes, Dean opened them once more and instantly found himself captured in the blue gaze. He was aware of Castiel lingering briefly over his freckles before the angel was brushing his cheek again, this time with the back of his fingers and he leaned into it until the desire to kiss Cas again grew too powerful and he did exactly that. Only this time, Dean allowed himself to slip a hand behind Castiel's neck and pull him closer so he could kiss him better, though he managed to keep it closed mouthed for all of that.  
  
The wonderful little noises Castiel was making already were more than enough for him right now. When it was something as important as this, Dean was more than willing to wait and take it slow though he knew it would be damned difficult.


	20. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just another day trying to prevent the restarting of the Apocalypse.

**PAST**  
  
  
Dean sighed as he rubbed his eyes, the small text getting to him once more. The torrential downpour outside had dissuaded him from going out to the local graveyard like he'd originally planned to do and he'd decided to use the time to do some more research instead. Castiel had left a number of the books behind and he had nothing better to do. His current hunt wasn't much of a priority, just something he'd heard about by accident. Apparently every decade, on the dot, a young woman would vanish in the nearby woods, never to be seen or heard from again. They'd been talking about it at a bar he'd been at, drunkenly speculating who would vanish next year. He'd decided there wouldn't be a next one if he could help it. But that could easily wait until tomorrow.  
  
The flutter of wings was a welcome distraction from the philosophical ramblings on the creation of demons he was presently reading. It was interesting on some level, but the author's style was boring and longwinded and he found himself skimming it as much as he could afford to, looking for any bits on Lucifer.  
  
"Hey, Ca-" Dean began and broke off when he saw that it wasn't Castiel standing there. "Xarael."  
  
"Dean Winchester," Xarael replied, approaching the table.  
  
"It's just Dean."  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"My name, it's just Dean."  
  
"But-"  
  
"Winchester is my last name, you don't normally use it when addressing someone."  
  
"Oh, my apologies."  
  
"That's okay," Dean leaned back in his chair, noting that she had stopped exactly six inches from him and he rolled his eyes. "What can I do for you?"  
  
"Castiel is not here?"  
  
"Nope, haven't seen him at all today."  
  
Xarael frowned. "He told me he was coming to see you."  
  
"What?" Dean demanded, getting to his feet. "How long ago was this?"  
  
What the hell could have happened to his angel? Ever since his resurrection and promotion, Castiel had seemed nigh on unstoppable. It had been amazing to watch on the hunts they'd done together and if it wasn't for the looming threat of the Apocalypse or the fact that he'd seen archangels caught and trapped before, he'd have felt completely sure that Cas was safe. The fact, however, was that he had seen bad things happen to archangels. Heck, Castiel and his little stunt with Raphael proved that you didn't need to be stronger or faster than one of God's most powerful, you just had to be smart about how you went about it.  
  
"Not even an hour ago," Xarael replied, backing up in confusion.  
  
Less than an hour, Dean felt himself relax immediately, that was okay. Castiel had probably just decided to check on a few things first, like the condition of the cage for one. As he relaxed, he noted Xarael's behavior and bit his lip to keep from laughing at her. When he'd gotten to his feet, he'd stepped towards her as if that would help him get the answers he wanted and, not being human, it had confused her. He was half tempted to take another step forward, just to see if she'd step back again, clearly trying to do as Castiel had told her to and keep a minimum of six inches between them. But he still didn't know why she was here in the first place.  
  
"So you were looking for Cas?"  
  
"Yes, the Virtues are restless again."  
  
"Shit," Dean groaned, dropping back into his chair. "I don't suppose they know why this time?"  
  
"No, it would appear that something big is about to happen soon, but they can't see what yet."  
  
"So how do they know it is coming?"  
  
"Because the life energy is shifting. Someone, somewhere, has made an important decision, something that has affected the future significantly."  
  
"Well that's just great."  
  
There were times when Dean really wished he could just bury his head in the proverbial sand and pretend that none of this was happening. He'd never really do it, he  _couldn't_  ever really do it, but it was a nice little fantasy nonetheless. The thing was, he didn't really know what to do with this information, yes it was good to know that something big was in the works, but now what? Besides, he had no real reference for how well these Virties worked.  
  
"Xarael, tell me, has their been a recent decision that has caused a similar impact? Something that's now past?"  
  
"Yes, your decision to let your brother go to Detroit to face Lucifer caused a similar ripple effect," Xarael replied, smiling slightly. "Or your refusal to become Michael's vessel once Zachariah informed you of your intended destiny. It caused quite the uproar."  
  
"Yeah, I'll bet it did," Dean stated a bit viciously.  
  
The thought of the chaos and disorder he'd caused the bastard made him smile, but then it transformed into a far larger smile as a flutter of wings announced the arrival of another angel and he turned to find his friend in the room with them. "Hey, Cas."  
  
"Dean, Xarael."  
  
He could tell Castiel was surprised to see his sister with him, but Dean was pleased to see none of the what he now realized had been jealousy from before. His thoughts were quickly distracted, though, by the phenomenal smell that wafted from the box Castiel held.  
  
"Dude, did you bring me pizza?" Dean demanded.  
  
"Yes."  
  
The angel stepped forward and handed him the box just as Dean's stomach growled. His breakfast had consisted of some junk from the vending machine down the hall as he hadn't wanted to venture out in the downpour then either. One look at the box, though, had him staring in shock.  
  
"Is that Italian?"  
  
"Yes, I have been told that they make the best pizza in Italy."  
  
Dean goggled at Castiel for a moment before he smiled broadly. "You're awesome!"  
  
He hesitated briefly, keenly aware of Xarael's presence before he decided, screw it, and reached for Castiel's tie, using it to pull the angel closer to him. Then Dean leaned forwards and kissed Cas. The angel responded instantly and Dean opened his mouth enough to lick his lips and tug lightly at the angel's lower lip with his teeth before he pulled back. Castiel looked like he wanted to follow him, though he refrained, licking his lips instead and looking at him in confusion and intrigue. Oh yeah, he was teaching the angel to French next as soon as they were alone together.  
  
Then Dean's stomach rumbled again and Castiel smiled.  
  
"You should eat."  
  
"You don't have to tell me twice!"  
  
Dean carefully moved the books well to one side before putting the pizza box on the table and opening it. Cas had gotten him what looked like a supreme of some kind and it had the works, though it lacked olives and that made him smile. Castiel had been paying attention all of those times they were in dinners or restaurants together. He grabbed a slice and took a big bite, making a very appreciative noise as the flavor hit his tongue. This was to die for!  
  
"You guys want any of this?" Dean asked, looking at the two angels.  
  
He was sorely tempted to just forego the offer as he was sure he could finish the pizza himself even though it was a large. It was just that good and the base was extremely thin, but Castiel had gotten it for him in the first place and Xarael was not only Cas' sister, but one he liked and seemed to get along with. That made her okay as far as he was concerned even if he didn't know her all that well just yet. His offer became more than just friendliness when she stepped forward and looked at the pizza as if she'd never seen one before. It hit him all of a sudden that Xarael may well have never really interacted with a human before and that this could be her first encounter with food.  
  
"Look, here," Dean said, grabbing the smallest slice. "Why don't you try this and if you don't like it, then no harm done."  
  
That seemed to convince her and Xarael stepped close to accept the slice, though Dean noticed her glancing at her brother before she did so. It would take a while, but she would learn what was appropriate, given his angel's new found penchant for jealousy, though, it was probably a very good thing she was erring on the side of caution. And, speaking of Castiel, he turned to smile at him as the angel stepped close. He'd expected the angel to reach past him for his own slice, but instead he lifted the one Dean had already started from his hand and bit into it.  
  
The protest that automatically rose within him died on Dean's lips at the obvious pleasure on Castiel's face as he chewed. This was the first time he'd seen his angel eat anything since the Famine incident and he was just thankful that it hadn't put Cas off food forever. Plus the thought of Castiel taking food from what essentially passed as his plate at the moment was hot.  
  
Yeah, screwed, that's what he was.  
  
He grabbed himself another slice and listened while Xarael caught Castiel up on the reason for her visit.  
  
"Who's currently important enough to be able to cause that kind of effect?" Dean asked.  
  
"I do not understand," Xarael replied.  
  
"Well, you said earlier that I'd caused those types of ripples."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"So can anyone do that or do they need to be a major player?"  
  
"I see what you're saying," Castiel said. "It's a good point. Although, conceivably, anyone could do it, the likelihood of it being a random person is low."  
  
With that, Castiel handed him back what was left of his pizza slice and vanished. Dean blinked, looked at the slice, nonplussed and slightly bemused before he shrugged and finished it. If Cas wanted more, he could always take another slice.  
  
"Did you like it?" Dean asked Xarael who was staring at him once more.  
  
"It was... peculiar."  
  
"Peculiar's not bad, I guess. That was the first time you've tried food, right?"  
  
"Yes," she replied. "I should probably go back to Heaven."  
  
"Yeah, okay. Oh, wait, you can take those two books over there?"  
  
"You have looked at them?"  
  
"Yeah and no go," Dean said, then saw that he had to clarify. "They contain nothing of interest for us."  
  
And just like that, she was gone.  
  
Dean snorted. "I guess a general inability to say goodbye is an angel thing."  
  
With a shrug, he turned back to the pizza and proceeded to devour most of it, savoring every delicious bite. It was absolutely amazing, definitely better than any pizza he'd ever had before even if he would have preferred a thicker base. He tried not to think too closely about where Castiel might be right now, though he had a sneaking suspicion that he knew. When he thought of other people whose decisions could significantly influence the outcome of the Apocalypse, his thoughts inevitably went to Sam. He was just glad that he didn't need to be the one to go check up on him.  
  
The ringing of his cell interrupted his thoughts and he fished it out of his coat pocket where he'd put it that morning before seeing the weather. He glanced at the caller ID and winced.  
  
"Hello, Bobby," Dean greeted, voice carefully neutral.


	21. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hello, Bobby," Dean greeted, voice carefully neutral.

**PAST**  
  
  
"Dean, ya idjit, why haven't you called me?" Bobby demanded in lieu of a greeting.  
  
Dean sighed, closing his eyes as he thought of all the reasons why he'd stopped calling the older hunter. Like how he'd known that Sam was back from Hell, alive and well, for nine weeks and how he'd never bothered to tell him.  
  
 _"I know you've met Dean, but you don't really know him. Trust me on this, it's better that he doesn't know that I'm back. Bobby, that friend I mentioned before who knows both of us really well, agrees with me on this."_  
  
Most of Sam's words from that day still haunted him, especially in his dreams, but these, these did so particularly. Not only did they speak of his brother's betrayal, but they were the ones that had revealed the older hunter's betrayal as well. Bobby, whom he'd looked up to and loved almost as a second father, had betrayed him for his brother. And he still didn't really know why. Did the older man simply like Sam better than him? Did he want him out of his life? But, if that was it, then why did he keep calling him? He'd stopped calling Bobby, not able to inflict that upon himself and not really thinking that he should either. He was getting mixed signals here and didn't know how to deal with them.  
  
The only thing he knew for certain was that Bobby had betrayed him and Dean just wasn't ready yet to confront him about it or to deal with him in person. Castiel's words about Sam and how he had time applied equally well to Bobby and, for the first time in his life, he found himself glad of that time and distance. Perhaps it was high time that he gave them a dose of their own medicine and see what they thought of it.  
  
"Sorry, Bobby, I've been busy," Dean hastily replied, realizing it had already been too long.  
  
"Busy? Doing what? I thought you were living the high life now with a nice little nine to five."  
  
"Oh, you know, stuff."  
  
Dean was just searching for more that he could say without giving too much away when Castiel returned with a soft flutter of wings and he brought his finger to his lips, warning the angel to keep quiet. It earned him a curious look, but the angel obeyed, stepping towards the table and pizza instead. Dean watched absently as the slice he'd been eating was selected and slowly finished.  
  
"I've been out and about, meeting new people," and saving them, not to mention searching desperately for a way to end the Apocalypse that we thought we'd averted. Stuff like that. "I also had to do some shopping," for rock salt, water, iron shot, "and I've been doing some Light reading." It wasn't his fault that Bobby would assume he meant light reading instead, right? And Holy books were Light, weren't they?  
  
"Well listen to you, Lisa's really domesticated you, hasn't she?"  
  
"Bobby..."  
  
"I just call 'em like I see 'em, boy."  
  
If only. Although Dean wouldn't give up what he had now with Castiel for anything, even if it was only just starting to develop, or no, just starting to be realized (he knew it had been growing between them for forever now if he was honest with himself), it would be nice to just be able to have the luxury of being domesticated. Not that he thought any kind of 'normal' domestication would work for him, not now after he'd had a real taste of it, but there were other ways of being so without giving up an essential part of who he was. He just needed for this damned Apocalypse to be over first.  
  
Instead of comforting him, that last thought actually caused dread to rise within Dean as a new fear of his rose to the surface. If they managed to truly avert or end the Apocalypse, would Castiel leave? Most likely, after all, how could he hope to compete with Heaven even if Heaven didn't need the new archangel to fix it? Heaven was Castiel's home and he couldn't ask him to abandon it, not again, not after all that the angel had done for him already.  
  
Dean shoved the thought aside. There was no point dwelling on that anyway as it all hinged on both of them surviving this blasted Apocalypse, not something he figured was very likely. He desperately hoped that Castiel's new powers were enough to allow him to make it through, but he himself? Not so much, he was just a regular human and not a particularly good one at that.  
  
Castiel snapped his fingers and Dean looked up at him in confusion. The angel pointed at the remaining pizza, then at him and finally the phone. What?  _Oh._  
  
"Look, Bobby, I gotta go, lunch is ready."  
  
Bobby huffed with laughter. "And you try and claim that she hasn't domesticated you."  
  
"Goodbye, Bobby."  
  
"Bye, Dean, and don't forget to call me sometime."  
  
"Sure," Dean lied before he hung up, slumping in his chair.  
  
The desire for a stiff, strong drink was back and Dean tried to fight it off. Cas didn't ask him for much so he was determined to give him that which he could. Besides, he'd been glad he'd stopped so he wasn't going to let Bobby and his betrayal slide him backwards, not now. He'd given him and Sam enough as it was.  
  
Castiel was suddenly beside him, so close there was hardly any space between them and Dean took it as the show of comfort that he knew it was meant to be. The angel wasn't very tactile, had never been really, and their relationship wasn't so far progressed that Castiel thought of touch as a form of comfort yet, though Dean hoped that would change soon enough. He looked up so he could meet Cas' eyes and noted the frustration and desire to help in them and it went a long way towards comforting him.  
  
"I take it from your relatively calm demeanour that Sam wasn't the cause of the ripple," Dean finally said.  
  
"Not from what I could see, though I shall check back periodically to make sure I didn't miss anything."  
  
Dean was tempted to ask what his brother had been doing and how Sam looked, but he bit down on the impulse. That would only serve to hurt him more and he was sure that Castiel would tell him if he'd seen anything important above and beyond what he'd gone to check for.  
  
"It was a good idea and I have dispatched angels to check on other likely candidates."  
  
It wasn't lost on Dean that Castiel could easily have done the same with Sam, he could have sent someone else to check on him, and hadn't. He didn't think it was conceited of him to think that he was the reason for that.  
  
"So now what? We just sit around and wait for this mysterious player to make his next move?" Dean asked.  
  
"No, we continue to search for an alternative while we look into the matter as best we can."  
  
It occurred to Dean that he was normally the one to offer such reassurances to others. It felt nice to be receiving them for once instead. In fact, it felt nice to do all of this, the hunting and the researching and the general friend thing without always having to take the lead or back seat on specific tasks. This felt more like a true partnership with both of them contributing in a nice give and take. He nodded in response, to show that he'd heard.  
  
"Do you want some more pizza?" Dean asked, looking at the box.  
  
"No."  
  
"Okay."  
  
He turned the box so he could get at the lid to close it. He may have lost his appetite now, but he'd definitely finish it later. Dean had never minded eating cold pizza, but he had sneaking suspicion that all he'd need to do was ask and Castiel would reheat it for him angel style. The thought warmed him and he let himself lean back in his chair when the box was closed. Like this, he was so very, very close to the angel as Castiel hadn't moved since he'd come to stand beside him, drawn to him like always.  
  
Dean reached out and took hold of one of the angel's hands. Although Castiel had gotten better at imitating human behavior, most of the time he still let his arms and hands hang limply when he was talking to someone. He turned the one he'd captured and pressed a kiss to the center of his palm before looking up at Cas' face. The angel's eyes had darkened and he was looking at him with both lust and desire. For what, Dean wasn't quite sure as they hadn't gone beyond chaste kisses, but he didn't really care as long as it was there.  
  
With another kiss, Dean released the hand he'd captured and rose to his feet, skimming Castiel's body the whole way so the angel was sure to feel him. He was met halfway as he leaned in for a real kiss and he kept it innocent at first before parting his lips to run his tongue along Castiel's lips like before. He could feel the angel's confusion and pulled back a little, kissing and nipping his way lightly along Cas' jaw, earning moans of approval as Castiel's hands fisted in his clothes, keeping him right where he was- as if he'd want to leave!  
  
"It's called French kissing," Dean explained before he tugged softly at the earlobe. "Kissing with tongue that is. It's good. Want to try it?"  
  
"With tongue?"  
  
Now the angel just sounded very confused, well that and turned on.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Okay."  
  
Dean drew back to check that Castiel meant it, or as much as he could when he didn't understand it, but he figured it was easier to show it to him then to try and explain it. Once he was sure, he leaned in close for another kiss, this time when he touched Cas' lips with tongue, the angel opened for him. He slipped his tongue in and groaned at the taste. It was similar to what he'd tasted on his lips before after their kissing, but a hundred times stronger and better. Oh, he could definitely get addicted to this!  
  
Castiel's response was a little hesitant, his tongue coming up to touch his, but it wasn't until Dean coaxed it back into his own mouth that the angel seemed to get it. Then, however, his... lover seemed to come alive against him, moaning and trying to devour him. They continued to kiss like that for a while, hungry and heated, until Dean had to pull back for breath, panting as he fought to control himself. Castiel took the opportunity to nuzzle at the side of his face before he began to lick and nip at his jaw.  
  
Well, at least angels were fast learners.


	22. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel takes Dean with him to go find a weapon they can use against Lucifer.

**PAST**  
  
  
Not knowing where they were going other than on a mission to find something they'd probably need to end the Apocalypse, Dean wasn't quite sure what weapons to take with him. Castiel hadn't told him much and had hung up before he could ask. He really needed to teach the damn angel some proper phone etiquette. Figuring that Cas would have told him if it would be very dangerous, he settled on his favorite pearl handled Colt and the knife he generally kept under his pillow. Well, that and he was now wearing the new belt he'd bought just last week, the one with the miniature knife worked into the buckle. The idea being that it would probably be missed if he were searched for weapons by anyone or anything. It had cost him, well Mr. Blackmore from Nebraska anyway, a small fortune, but he thought it was worth it, though somehow he wasn't so sure Blackmore would agree, but that wasn't his problem.  
  
The flutter of wings announced Castiel's arrival, punctual as usual. Dean smiled as he turned to face him.  
  
"Dean, are you ready to go?"  
  
Apparently goodbyes weren't the only form of social niceties he needed to introduce his angel to. Stepping close, Dean leaned forwards for a quick kiss.  
  
"Hello, Cas, it's good to see you."  
  
Castiel's face instantly softened. "My apologies, I just-"  
  
"I know, Cas, Go- Heaven, knows I understand how important all of this is, I'm just glad to see you, even if you suck at proper phone manners and frustrate me to no end with the lack of information you pass on at times."  
  
He must have gotten his point across as he was rewarded with a kiss of his own.  
  
"Regardless, it is good to see you. I am simply afraid to get distracted as it is so easy to forget what I must do when I am with you," Castiel stated.  
  
Dean beamed at him, waggling his eyebrows a little at that admission. "I distract you, hmm?" he teased, wishing he had the time to test exactly how easily he could get the angel to forget why he was here, but all he had to do was think of both Lucifer and Michael free once more to sober him. "So, something that might help us to win this Apocalypse?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Why didn't we go after this before?"  
  
"Because I didn't know where it was located then, now I do."  
  
"And where is that?" Dean inquired as Castiel raised two fingers towards his forehead.  
  
"The vaults of the Vatican."  
  
"The vau- whoa, wait, Ita-"  
  
The world swirled and faded around him and there was an odd dropping sensation in the pit of his stomach, a little like when a plane took off, and then the world shifted around him before it snapped back into focus.  
  
"-ly?"  
  
One look around and Dean didn't need Castiel to answer him as he knew they were no longer in Kansas. They were in a church, though it was probably a cathedral from the sheer size of it. That said, it was far bigger than any cathedral he'd ever been in before. The ceiling seemed miles above his head and the pews stretched out really far, making him think they could easily seat a couple thousand people, not to mention the fact that there appeared to be a dozen chapels leading off in all directions. He whirled around and there, behind him was the largest alter he'd ever seen and the most elaborately decked out one. The entire place was lavishly decorated with marble, carvings, sculptures and gilding. Between all of that and the paintings on the ceiling, even Dean knew where they were.  
  
"The Basilica? You brought me to the freaking Basilica?" Dean demanded, incredulous.  
  
His voice echoed in the cavernous building and he instantly hushed a little, Pastor Jim's lectures about proper church voices coming back to him. Although Dean had never been religious, he'd respected Jim as a good hunter and someone willing to help them and look after Sammy when needed, so he'd taken his lessons to heart. He felt a brief pang of regret that the man wasn't alive to meet Cas, he would have loved it.  
  
"Yes, Dean," Castiel said and that's when Dean realized just how closely the angel was watching him.  
  
"You've been here before," Dean realized.  
  
"Yes, it was one of the first places I came to look for my Father when I started my search."  
  
Dean started to ask why they were here then as this wasn't the vaults but then figured that this was his friend's way of sharing something with him. It so wasn't his type of thing, but even he could see the honor of being brought to what was probably the grandest of all of God's houses on Earth. He and God might have their differences and he would have a few things to say to Him if they ever met, but he was more than aware that he owed Him a thing or two for having resurrected Cas not once but twice and  _that_  was what stilled his tongue now.  
  
"Do you dislike heights?" Castiel asked.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Your dislike of flying, does that stem from a dislike of heights?"  
  
"No."  
  
Even as he replied, Castiel was reaching for his forehead again and Dean braced himself for another trip via Angel Air. When the world came into focus again, his mouth dropped open in awe at the panorama before him. He could understand Castiel's question now as they were very high up overlooking what he assumed was Rome. A glance down confirmed his suspicions that they were near the top of the Basilica on a walkway with a railing. Not quite knowing what to say, he followed the walkway until they'd done a complete tour.  
  
"Cas, this is..."  
  
"A wonderful monument to my Father's glory and something I thought you might enjoy as well."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
Sammy would kill to be here now and Dean couldn't help but feel a small fission of satisfaction at that. If his brother hadn't been such a dick, then he'd be here now too and would be able to enjoy it himself.  
  
Finally having seen his fill and knowing that there was work to do and something which could help them with the Apocalypse at that, he pulled his attention away from the view. "So, the Vatican vaults?"  
  
"Yes, I have been told the Jewel of Abel is located there."  
  
"The Jewel of Abel? What's that?"  
  
"It's a weapon that can be used to greatly weaken an angel and that can help deflect their power when turned on the wielder."  
  
"And you guys left it on Earth?" Dean demanded, incredulous.  
  
"As I said before, its location has been a mystery for a very long time and before that we saw no harm in it being here as it had been millennia since an angel last walked the Earth."  
  
"Except for Gabriel."  
  
Castiel looked pained at the mention of his brother. "We thought he'd been killed by demons."  
  
Fucking bastard, Dean thought. It was one thing to run away and abandon your family, but it was a completely different thing to make them think you were dead in order to do so. Yes, the archangel had come through for them in the end, but he was still a colossal dick.  
  
"In addition, it might be a good idea to see what else they have that might be of use to us," Castiel continued.  
  
"Okay, let's go."  
  
Surprisingly, Dean found that he was starting to adjust to the feel of being transported by Cas, well, at least now that he was an archangel and could properly compensate for bodily functions. This time he found himself in a dimly lit corridor lined with that looked like massive display cases on either side. Some of them seemed to host artefacts of various sorts while others were small rooms containing rows of bookshelves filled with ancient and modern tomes. In addition to the light levels being dim, the air tasted strange, dull almost and he wondered if it was specially filtered. He could vaguely recall Bobby talking about ancient books needing to be kept in carefully controlled environments.  
  
"I don't suppose you know where to find this Jewel of Abel, do you, Cas? 'Cause it looks a bit like a maze down here."  
  
He could see various corridors leading off of the one they were in and that seemed to stretch on for quite a while, the end vanishing in the dimness. The whole place put Dean on edge. It was far too artificial not to mention the fact that he doubted people were just allowed to waltz in here at will and he didn't have the first clue what kind of security they had here, but he'd bet it was top of the line.  
  
"Now that we're here, I can sense it," Castiel replied. "This way."  
  
Dean trailed after the angel, looking about as they went. He was glad they didn't need to worry about finding their way back in order to get out as he was quickly lost after the first few sets of turns. He was used to having natural landmarks with which to navigate by and there was a joke in there somewhere that it was in a religious building he found things too artificial for him.  
  
"Here we are," Castiel announced as the came to a stop before a case that looked no different from any of the others to Dean.  
  
"What's this thing look like anyway?"  
  
"It appears to be a ring bracelet combination."  
  
"Huh. So, you going to zap us in?"  
  
"It would be better if you wait here as the moisture in your breath will raise the overall moisture content in the room and trigger an alarm."  
  
"Oh, okay."  
  
The next instant Castiel stood inside the room and headed unerringly towards the back of it, vanishing from sight behind a bookshelf. Dean frowned, not entirely sure why he'd been brought along though he wasn't complaining, he'd seen some fantastic things, but surely that hadn't been the purpose of his presence, had it? He hadn't quite pictured the angel as a romantic, but this side of him was as new to Cas as it was to him, so he supposed anything was possible.  
  
A slight shuffling sound instantly had Dean on alert and he pulled his gun from the back of his jeans. The design of the corridors left no real room for concealment and he pressed himself against the door to the display room Castiel had vanished into, wishing he had some way of contacting the angel. Although he was more than capable of defending himself, he was in the damned Vatican of all places, chances were that he was up against a perfectly normal human being instead of some supernatural creature. He really, really didn't want to have to hurt an innocent, religious fanatic or not.  
  
His hope that the person wasn't coming his way was dashed when a figure rounded the corner a little way down the corridor and headed towards him. If he weren't trying to hide, Dean would have cursed. Where the hell was Castiel? As the person drew closer, he thought briefly that it was a woman before he realized that it was a guy dressed in a dress, at least that's what it looked like to him. He supposed it was probably some specialized church thing, but it looked like a freaking dress to him. It was dark, probably black though there wasn't enough light to really tell, and swished softly as the guy came towards him. What really captured his attention, though, was the stiff white collar at his neck.  
  
Great, a freaking priest, it must be his lucky day. Dean was just hoping that perhaps the man would simply pass him by when the priest stopped, glancing his way.  
  
"Chi è là?"  
  
Fuck, of course, the dude was Italian. Now what?  
  
Since it was pretty clear that he'd been spotted, Dean put his Colt away before stepping forwards, out of the shadows. His appearance clearly startled the guy and he could easily understand why. He'd dressed as normal, not realizing they were going on a trans-Atlantic field trip, not that it would have made a difference anyway, he didn't let things like that affect his dress code. Still, he looked distinctly out of place here.  
  
"Chi siete voi?" the priest demanded. "Che cosa state facendo qui? Come siete entrato qui dentro?"  
  
"Whoa, whoa, slow down pal," Dean replied, gesturing with his hands in what he hoped like hell was the universal slow down sign.  
  
"You American?"  
  
The priest's accent was incredibly heavy and he seemed hesitant about the words, as if not quite sure that he had the right ones, but he was still understandable despite all that.  
  
"Yeah, I'm American," Dean confirmed.  
  
"What you doing here?"  
  
"Uh."  
  
Somehow Dean didn't think saying 'I'm on a mission with a newly promoted archangel in order to help stop the Apocalypse from restarting' would go over very well.  
  
"How you get in?"  
  
"Um."  
  
That, of course, was the exact moment that Castiel suddenly reappeared at Dean's side.  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Chi è là? - Who is there?  
> Chi siete voi? - Who are you?  
> Che cosa state facendo qui? - What are you doing here?  
> Come siete entrato qui dentro? - How did you get in here?


	23. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Yeah, we have a problem, Cas," Dean said, waving at the priest.

**PAST**  
  
  
The shout and startled reaction of the priest only served to underscore his own lack of a response and Dean wondered exactly when the angel's sudden appearances had stopped affecting him so badly, well if he had an inkling that Cas might be dropping by anyway. He was sure if Castiel were to do it out of the blue, he'd probably jump as badly as the poor guy had done. Speaking of which, the priest had backed up against the glass of the display room across the hall, eyes impossibly wide and hands clutching at a rosary, lips moving wordlessly, no doubt in prayer.  
  
"Yeah, we have a problem, Cas," Dean said, waving at the priest.  
  
"There is no need to be afraid or to call on my Father," Castiel told the guy. "I am an angel of the Lord."  
  
When that failed to get through to the priest, the angel repeated what he said, or at least Dean assumed he did as it was in fluent Italian now. This time the words seemed to reach the guy and he froze, slowly lowering the rosary.  
  
"Un angelo?" the man questioned and even Dean didn't need a translation for that one.  
  
"Yes," Castiel confirmed.  
  
The priest still looked suspicious and skeptical and Dean couldn't blame him. Yeah, so this guy believed in God and His angels, that didn't mean he expected them to show up on Earth any more than anyone else did. They didn't have time for this and he didn't know why Castiel didn't just zap them out of there. There was nothing the priest could do to stop them and he didn't think there was anything they could do to convince him otherwise.  
  
Then the lights started to flicker and Dean suddenly realized that there was one thing Castiel could do. He whirled around to look and, sure enough, there were now two large, shadowy wings stretched out behind his angel. The very sight of them, as indirect as it was, took his breath away and he could only stare in awe and no little amount of arousal. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and  _touch_  those wings, to run his hands through the feathers as he kissed Castiel, the same way he ran his fingers through the angel's hair when he did so. The sudden desire caught him completely off-guard, yes he knew how much he wanted Cas, but this was the first time in his life that he was attracted to something so blatantly supernatural. Castiel had become just Cas, an angel, yes, but Cas first and foremost.  
  
What followed next was a rapid-fire exchange in Italian that was completely lost on Dean, but he was good at reading body language and he could tell that Castiel had convinced the guy. Now the priest seemed to be in some kind of spiritual ecstasy phase, not quite believing that this was actually happening to him. He didn't quite like the look the guy was giving Castiel and stepped closer to his angel instinctively before chiding himself. This dude was a priest,  _of course_  he'd be in seventh Heaven when confronted with an honest to God angel. There was nothing more sinister going on here and only he could think so with a freaking priest.  
  
As they talked, Dean's eyes were drawn down to Castiel's hands, to see if he could find the Jewel of Abel that was their purpose for being here in the first place. The angel had obviously found it as he held what looked like some kind of funky hand jewellery gone wrong in his left hand. He pulled a face as he tried to figure out how it worked. It looked like one end of it was made up of rings, five of them, four close together and one spaced further apart. On its own that wouldn't have been enough for him to guess how it was meant to be worn, but with what Cas had told him earlier, he realized they were meant to go on a hand, a right hand. Well, if the jewel in the center was supposed to fit in the palm of the wielder which made more sense to him than the back of the hand, since it was supposed to be some kind of weapon anyway. The jewel itself was odd and he wasn't entirely sure that it was actually a jewel despite its name, though what else it could be he didn't know. It looked jewel-like but was a silvery-white in color and seemed to glow softly with an inner light. On the other end of the jewel hung multiple loose strands of gold, for what purpose he didn't know.  
  
Altogether, it was unlike anything that Dean had ever seen before and he found himself drawn towards it, wanting to touch it. The impulse frightened him as he knew that it wasn't natural and yet it definitely felt so and not at all foreign in nature. Anything that could do that scared the crap out him as it meant that it was immensely powerful. Not to mention the fact that he hated anything that could take away his free will just on principle.  
  
"Cas?" Dean questioned, interrupting the conversation and not caring.  
  
He couldn't seem to tear his eyes off the Jewel of Abel as he fought off the desire to step closer to Castiel and take it from him. The conversation stopped and he could feel it the moment his angel turned his attention back to him, even before he spoke.  
  
"You are drawn to it."  
  
"What the hell is it doing to me?"  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"How is it making me want to touch it, making it feel like I  _should_  touch it when I know I really shouldn't."  
  
"It was designed so it could be found in times of need."  
  
"What, like a homing beacon?"  
  
"I do not understand this reference."  
  
"It means- oh, never mind."  
  
With two steps, Castiel stood beside him, well inside his personal space, and was reaching for his right hand.  
  
"Cas?" Dean questioned as the angel brought up the Jewel of Abel.  
  
The moment he realized Castiel intended to slip it onto his fingers, Dean reacted, trying to pull his hand away.  
  
"Relax, Dean," Castiel commanded. "It won't harm you."  
  
Wide-eyed, Dean looked between the priest's stunned gaze and the angel's calm, reassuring one before he swallowed thickly. Every rational part of his mind was screaming at him to pull away, to put some distance between himself and the Jewel of Abel, even as every instinct in him demanded the exact opposite. He felt torn, hating how easily a part of him could want to give itself over to this thing, this foreign power, but Castiel said it was okay. If his angel said so, it had to be okay, right? Cas had always gone out of his way to ensure that he was safe and unharmed, so he knew he could trust him in this. Unable to find his voice, he merely nodded his head and relaxed his hand.  
  
Castiel wasted no time slipping the Jewel of Abel's rings over his fingers and let it slide into place against his palm. The moment it was there, the Jewel of Abel seemed to come alive, warming rapidly even as the golden strands started writhing before they encircled his wrist and joined together, leaving him with an intricately woven golden bracelet around his wrist.  
  
"Santa Madre di Dio!"  
  
Dean was only vaguely aware of the priest's words, the rest of his attention focused on the device around his hand and the  _feeling_  of it. It fairly thrummed with energy and he could feel it sizzling through his veins, centered on his palm. It felt wrong and right both at once, foreign and yet as if some missing part of him that he hadn't even been aware wasn't there had finally been returned to him. It freaked him out a little, but he was more disturbed by the fact that it didn't freak him out so much that he was tearing at the damn thing to get it off.  
  
He turned wide eyes to his angel only to find Castiel looking at him in satisfaction with a small smile on his face. "Cas?"  
  
"I knew it would be you."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Savior," the priest breathed.  
  
Startled, Dean looked at the guy only to find that he'd approached the two of them. The look of awe and disbelief was still firmly fixed on his face, only now it was aimed at him instead of Castiel.  
  
" _What?_ "  
  
"Only the chosen can activate the Jewel of Abel," Castiel explained. "That is why I needed you with me. Without your presence, I wouldn't have been able to find it. It only starts to emit signals when the chosen is nearby."  
  
Dean was already shaking his head before the angel finished speaking. "No, I... just- no. You're wrong, it must be something else- someone else!"  
  
"Dean-"  
  
"The priest!"  
  
The poor guy looked startled to be addressed all of a sudden, but he too shook his head, looking confused. "No, I had held Jewel of Abel in past."  
  
"It is not him, Dean," Castiel stated confidently and without a trace of hesitation. "It is you it is responding to. It would not have closed around your wrist otherwise."  
  
He was breathing hard and fast now, as if he'd run a marathon and Dean had to force his breathing to slow before he started to hyperventilate. This couldn't be happening to him. Hadn't he already proven how fucked up he was? How  _not_  suited he was to all this prophecy and chosen one crap? Hell, he was the one who had started the freaking Apocalypse in the first place! This whole shit storm was his fault to begin with, because he'd been weak and had allowed Alastair to break him in Hell. If he'd just held out a bit longer, none of this would have happened. How could Castiel of all people, who knew all of this only all too well, still think otherwise? Hell, the angel had been forced to pound him into submission when he'd broken completely and tried to give himself over to Michael.  
  
"Stop it."  
  
The command in Castiel's tone had Dean looking up and locking eyes with his angel. The complete and utter calm he saw there helped him slowly fight off the edge of panic that had risen up within him at the way the Jewel of Abel was making him feel. It wasn't until enough of that had been soothed away that he was able to start seeing the determination in his angel's gaze. Clearly his friend had known where his thoughts had gone and he looked away in shame.  
  
Castiel sighed. "It is called the Jewel of Abel because it was made by Abel, the same Abel who was slain by his brother Cain, the Abel from whose line you come."  
  
The priest made a strangled sound and looked just about ready to faint. The thought distracted Dean for a second before what Castiel had said registered. "Whoa, wait, you mean this thing is like the same deal as the whole Michael bloodline thing?"  
  
"Yes. You could think of it as a family heirloom."  
  
Dean snorted. "Some heirloom."  
  
His words might have been sarcastic, but he did mean them on some level. Given the fire that had ultimately gutted a good portion of the house, with smoke damaging the rest, and their nomadic lifestyle, Dean had never really possessed anything that hadn't been either his father's or Sam's, not really heirlooms in the truest sense. So this Jewel of Abel? It suddenly took on a whole new meaning for him knowing that it had been in the family even if it was like a gazillion years ago. It was something that had been passed through his family, his blood. More curious now, he started to turn his hand, to get a better look at the jewel now that he was wearing it. Castiel's hand tightened on his wrist, stopping him.  
  
"No, don't."  
  
"Cas?"  
  
"It would be like looking down the barrel of a loaded gun."  
  
Oh, okay,  _not_  a good idea. "I thought this was something that hurt angels?"  
  
"Yes, but I don't know what it will do to a human. It might be harmless, but it might hurt or kill you."  
  
And wouldn't that be a stupid way to go? Killing himself with an anti-angel weapon. Yeah, no looking at the jewel while he wore the blasted, no, excuse him, holy (not that he was really convinced there was a difference) bracelet thingy.  
  
"Savior," the priest said again, only this time Dean could detect traces of fear and horror in his voice. "If savior here, then..."  
  
Ah, Dean got it now. The man had realized that if the time of the chosen one had arrived that it meant things were about to go to Hell in a handbasket. He suddenly felt for the poor guy who was about to have his world turned upside-down.  
  
"The Apocalypse comes?"  
  
It was definitely a question and Dean looked at Castiel for a moment before replying. "The Apocalypse is already here. It started over a year ago."  
  
If he was honest with himself, Dean had expected an outburst at those words. He was far too used to dealing with people who'd suddenly, unexpectedly, been confronted with the supernatural and who wanted nothing more than to find a reason- any reason!- to shove it all aside and pretend that it had never happened. That it was all a dream or nightmare of some kind; that they were going crazy as something like  _that_  couldn't be real. It just couldn't be. The priest, however, merely closed his eyes in resignation and clutched his rosary that much tighter.  
  
"The... the odd avvenimenti?"  
  
"Occurrences," Castiel translated.  
  
"Yes, the odd occurrences?"  
  
"Yeah," Dean confirmed.  
  
"But, you savior?"  
  
The sheer hope in the man's voice made Dean's automatic refusal die in his throat. How could he destroy that when he knew only all too well how precious hope could be?  
  
"Yes, he is the chosen one," Castiel confirmed. "We need to take the Jewel of Abel with us."  
  
"Yes, yes, if savior needs, take."  
  
Well, at least they wouldn't have to fight the priest to steal the damn thing, though Dean had no clue how the guy was going to explain its absence to his superiors. The thought that he might tell them the truth made him freeze inside. He really didn't want more people involved in this mess or blindly depending on him. He really wasn't this stupid savior everyone thought him to be.  
  
"Can I help?" the priest asked.  
  
"You possess many ancient tomes here," Castiel replied. "Many that are the last of their kind."  
  
"Yes. You need?"  
  
"We need information on Lucifer, his cage and the Apocalypse."  
  
"We look," the priest promised.  
  
And just like that they had the Vatican, or at least part of the Vatican, working with them. Dean couldn't quite believe that all of this was happening. It had to be a dream, some wacky, desperation fueled dream. After all, they couldn't really just have gained a weapon against angels that just happened to work only for him as well as the aid of the fucking Vatican, could they? A quick pinch seemed to indicate otherwise, not that he was sure he believed in that pinching bullshit anyway.  
  
"You come back?"  
  
"I will be back."  
  
With that promise, Castiel turned back to Dean and he knew what was coming even before those two fingers reached for his forehead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Un angelo? - An angel?  
> Santa Madre di Dio! - Holy mother of God


	24. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that they have the Jewel of Abel, Dean needs to learn how to use it.

**PAST**  
  
  
When the world reformed around them, Dean found himself confronted not with his current motel room as expected, or even any other familiar location, but rather a vast expanse of white. It took him a few blinks to be able to bring everything into focus as it was all shades of white or white-gray, even the sky was more white than gray, heavy with snow. White also stretched as far as the eye could see in front of him.  
  
Eyes so wide he felt that they were going to pop out of his head like on one of those cartoons Sammy used to love watching, Dean could only stare in disbelief. Glancing about, he found that they were up against what looked like an ice cliff on one side and large, jagged outcroppings of ice on the other.  
  
"Uh, Cas?"  
  
"You need to practice using the Jewel of Abel so that you know what to do when you need to use it in battle."  
  
Oh, that made sense, but- "Where the hell are we?"  
  
"Antarctica."  
  
Antarctica, of course, why hadn't he thought of that? The disbelief and shock dulled Dean's mind enough that it took him a few minutes to realize that he was not, in fact, either freezing his ass off or slowly freezing to death despite the fact that he was woefully underdressed for this weather. At the thought, he became very aware of the hand Castiel had resting on his shoulder, the thumb absently stroking his neck in a way he didn't think the angel was even consciously aware of. It made him smile.  
  
"You mojoing me?"  
  
"Yes, it would not be conducive to the lessen if you were shivering too much to aim properly."  
  
"Why here?"  
  
"So you can misjudge the power and force of the Jewel without running the risk of accidentally hurting anyone."  
  
Dean wasn't quite sure whether to be touched or insulted by that statement. It  _did_  make sense though, especially since he had absolutely no point of reference for the Jewel, and so he let it go. This time.  
  
"Okay, so what do I do?"  
  
"Bring the Jewel up and aim it at a target."  
  
A target? Oh, he could go for one of the ice outcroppings, it would probably make a spectacular sound if he got it. Dean frowned at the thought. He'd automatically assumed the Jewel would discharge some kind of energy like some futuristic weapon he'd seen in those big-budget sci-fi movies, but that probably wasn't right. If it did that, then Castiel would have known that it could hurt humans instead of being unsure on the issue. Nevertheless, he did as instructed.  
  
"Be careful of how your hand tilts," Castiel warned.  
  
With those words, the angel brought his free hand up and wrapped it around the back of his own, adjusting the angle of it. The action made Dean acutely aware of how close they were standing as it brought Castiel flush up against his back, one hand on his shoulder and the other on his hand. It was closer than they'd ever stood when they weren't kissing and that fact wasn't missed by his dick which gave an interested twitch at having the angel pressed up against him like this.  
  
"Okay, now what?" Dean demanded hoarsely.  
  
Focus on the issue at hand, he tried to tell himself. This was important and wouldn't he feel stupid if he couldn't use the Jewel when necessary because he'd been thinking with his cock instead of his head now? With an effort, he managed to make himself concentrate on the way Castiel had angled his hand. It was different enough from the way he'd hold a gun as to require more attention then that action would need.  
  
"I'm not sure, try willing it to discharge."  
  
"Huh? Say what?"  
  
"I have never used the Jewel of Abel nor seen it used against one of my brothers or sisters," Castiel explained. "I am working on theory."  
  
"Oh, okay."  
  
With an effort, Dean forced himself to relax as much as the present situation would allow which, admittedly, wasn't much. Then he tried to focus his attention on the feel of the Jewel. When Castiel had first put it on him, he'd been able to feel its power thrumming through him, still could actually, though he was amazed at how easily it had faded into the background. He didn't like that one little bit, but ignored it for now. Although his angel was keeping him warm physically, he was almost shivering just watching the wind race across the frigid and desolate landscape.  
  
Now that he was focused on the energy, Dean could feel it singing through him and he attempted to channel it back to the Jewel itself. He felt some of it shift, but then it slipped through his grasp and was just humming away again as it had been before he'd tried. A few more repetitions proved no more successful. He grunted in frustration and would have dropped his arm, except Castiel wouldn't let him do so.  
  
"I can't."  
  
"Tell me what you're doing."  
  
"I'm trying to push the... energy back towards the Jewel."  
  
"What energy?"  
  
"The stuff I've felt since you put it on me."  
  
"Okay, how are you trying to push it?"  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"How do you view this energy in your mind?"  
  
"Uh, like electricity, I suppose."  
  
"But it slips out of your grip?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Try thinking of it like water."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Think of it as a fluid," Castiel repeated. "And adjust your mental receptacle for it as well."  
  
Receptacle? Oh, okay, it was worth a shot. Closing his eyes, Dean tried to picture the energy as a fluid, it remained an electric blue fluid, but he managed to see it as a liquid instead of the cracking static of electricity itself. Then he tried to picture a cup with which he could catch the liquid and drag it towards the Jewel. At first he thought nothing was happening, but then he felt the Jewel warm in his hands and thought he could hear a faint humming but that could have been a figment of his imagination as easily as the wind screeching past them.  
  
Dean opened his eyes as he felt the energy peak before dissipating. He blinked against the bright whiteness of his surroundings but couldn't immediately see anything different. The ice outcropping he'd been aiming at definitely appeared undamaged.  
  
"The hell?" Dean muttered. "Did that work?"  
  
"It felt like it should have, though I don't see any effect of it."  
  
"You think it's broken?"  
  
Now that Castiel had released his hand, Dean shook it out, trying to get rid of the residual energy he could still feel crackling along his fingers as much as to see if he could hear any loose parts rattling around. Then he remembered what he had on and lowered his hand quickly, hoping Cas hadn't noticed.  
  
"No," Castiel began thoughtfully. "Perhaps it is because you do not have a true target to aim it at."  
  
"Yeah, well if that's true then we're kinda screwed unless you happen to know of a rogue angel we can try it on."  
  
"No, though perhaps I cou-"  
  
"No!" The word was out of Dean's mouth even before he'd realized what he was going to say, not that it made the slightest bit of difference. "No, I am  _not_  using this thing on you, not even if I knew exactly how it worked and knew I couldn't kill you."  
  
"Dean, the Jewel of Abel doesn't kill angels."  
  
"Are you sure about that, Cas? I mean, like really, one hundred percent sure?" The slight hesitation was all the answer he needed. "Yeah, that's what I thought."  
  
"Dean, given the circumstances, I t-"  
  
"No!" Dean shot back vehemently. "Absolutely not. I'm not doing it, Cas, and you can't make me."  
  
In any other situation, Dean would have distanced himself from the crazy angel so he could cross his arms and properly glare at him. As it was, though, he had no desire whatsoever to find out first hand exactly how cold it was out here and thus had to remain within touching distance of Castiel. It greatly undermined the overall effect of his glare, but enough of it must have gotten through as his angel's shoulders slumped fractionally and he could read resignation in those blue, blue eyes.  
  
"This is not a very strategic decision," Castiel declared nevertheless.  
  
"Sure it is. I see it as very good strategy not to risk seriously injuring or even killing our strongest and most powerful asset."  
  
"You do realize that this could leave you defenseless should Michael or Lucifer find you after they get out of the cage."  
  
"Yeah, well, I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.  _If_  I come to it. Besides, I've survived encounters with archangels before without the aid of the Jewel."  
  
"Those were under unusual circumstances and you had backup every single time."  
  
"So? Who's to say that I won't the next time. Trust me, Cas, if an angel shows up who means to hurt me, I shall, without a moment's hesitation, turn the Jewel on them. I'm not stupid, I've see with my own two eyes what your brothers and sisters are capable of."  
  
"And what if you're alone when it happens?"  
  
"Then I'll just have to think of something else then, won't I?."  
  
"Dean."  
  
"Cas."  
  
And they were staring at each other again, only this time it was different from all of their normal stares. Instead of simply getting lost in Castiel's eyes, Dean was now actively trying to stare him down, trying by sheer force of will to convey to the angel how much this was  _not_  going to happen. He just wasn't going to point an unknown weapon at his friend and essentially pull the trigger. Even if he knew more about how the Jewel operated and how much force caused what damage, he wouldn't risk it. His father had taught him all too well never to point a weapon at someone or something unless he damn well meant to use it and follow through on the implied threat. Accidents could happen and there was no reason to tempt faith unnecessarily.  
  
Enough of his conviction must have gotten through though if Castiel's displeased and resigned expression was anything to go by. "Then we must practice the first parts of the process until you can do it at a moment's notice."  
  
All of the triumph left Dean abruptly at those words. His heart sank at the thought of being out here that long and he opened his mouth to protest, but his angel cut him off as he continued.  
  
"We are not leaving until then."  
  
This time it was Castiel's turn to go all determined on him and Dean knew that he really couldn't complain, not after what he'd just done. He really hated it when someone managed to turn the tables around on him like that. Somehow it was almost always Castiel who did it too.  
  


* * *

  
The room was quiet and dark when Castiel returned to it only a few hours after he'd left. As expected, Dean lay asleep on the bed, both arms tucked under his pillow. He frowned at seeing the hunter still fully dressed and lying on the covers, but he now knew that Dean did it so he could react quickly should anything try and attack him while he slept. Given how the other two hunters had snuck up on him and Sam doing exactly that, he knew it wasn't an unreasonable fear for Dean to have. The memory of finding his charge's lifeless and bloody body like that still had the power to enrage and hurt him despite the fact that he could see that Dean was alive and well now.  
  
Briefly he wondered how long it would take to track down the men in question and exact revenge before Castiel was able to force the thought aside. It was neither becoming of him nor the best use of his time, no matter how much he wanted to pursue it or how good it would make him feel to do so. Yet, they had killed his mate!  
  
Castiel growled softly at the mere thought, though he cut it off right away as Dean shifted in his sleep, suddenly restless. The fact that the hunter hadn't woken up yet despite his presence was a testament to how completely he was trusted and he didn't want to abuse it by waking Dean when he needed all of the sleep he could get. The reminder of their new relationship did make him smile, though, and he savored it while watching the gentle movements of Dean's body as he settled back down and slept on. The desire to reach out and touch his mate rose within him once more as it so often had since he'd held Dean that evening six weeks ago and he tried to push it aside.  
  
The thought of all that had happened since then still amazed Castiel. He'd never realized at the time what the growing unknown emotion was that he kept feeling whenever near the hunter. He'd known that he liked Dean and loved him more than he should as an angel, but he hadn't realized that he'd fallen in love with him and was starting to see him as a mate until Dean had first kissed him.  
  
Ordinarily that type of abrupt change would have made Castiel retreat until he knew more about the situation and what he thought of it, but it had felt so right that he'd automatically responded. Not only had he done that, but he'd instantly wanted  _more_. How and why he hadn't known, just that he liked it and wanted to get as close to Dean as was possible. To feel his warmth and the brightness of his soul as he had when he'd cradled it close while rising from Hell. Dean had clung to him tightly then, full of disbelief and relief as well as denial and the sense that a mistake was being made. It wasn't until later, when he'd first met Dean while in Jimmy, that he'd realized the cause for the latter, that his charge didn't feel like he deserved to be saved.  
  
The revelation had been astounding and he'd wished to relieve Dean of it. It was a wish that Castiel was still waiting to see fulfilled, though his determination hadn't lessened any even if he now knew precisely how difficult a task it would be to achieve. He'd fought countless battles since his creation and was patient when necessary. One day, he would wear Dean's resistance down. In the meantime, he would keep watch and ensure that his hunter made it to that point.  
  
The thought made Castiel frown again as he was unable to immediately spot the Jewel of Abel anywhere near the bed. He'd told Dean to keep it close to him at all times as he couldn't be a hundred percent sure when the cage would burst and he didn't want his mate to be caught off-guard and an easy target for his brothers. Dean had promised him that he'd keep it with him, but he couldn't see it. He relaxed though as he realized that he could still sense it, something which was only possible when it was close to Dean. His hunter may think that it was a coincidence that it responded to him, but he knew better. The Jewel of Abel was intended for his mate and became active when near him, which is why he'd needed him along in order to be able to find it. So then where was it?  
  
Castiel looked around the room once more before his eyes settled on Dean. Now that he thought about it, he couldn't recall seeing the hunter sleeping with both of his hands under the pillow before. A smile crept across his face as he realized where the Jewel of Abel had been put. There it would not only be easily accessible to Dean, but it would also be out of sight from anyone who might happen to drop by. Although he could sense its presence, that was because he was looking for it, if he didn't do that, then it could easily be missed so it shouldn't provide much warning to an angel his mate might need to use it on. The thought allowed him to relax once more and he simply observed Dean instead.  
  
Then Castiel had to force himself to return to Heaven, not only because there was much work yet to be done, but also because he knew that if he stayed any longer he was sure to give into the growing urge to touch his hunter.


	25. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean unintentionally turns Castiel on. Really.

**PAST**  
  
  
Dean pulled his jacket off as soon as he entered the room, once again thankful that he hadn't been wearing his father's leather one as the wendigo would have shredded it as easily as he had this one. He threw it at the trash and started removing his over shirt and shirt, cursing the creature that had gotten his jacket, shirts and back, though thankfully Castiel had already healed the latter. One glance was enough to confirm that both shirts were hopelessly ruined and he balled them up before throwing them into the trash as well, making a mental note to take it out before he left so as not to alarm anyone and draw attention to himself.  
  
"So, supercharged wendigos now," Dean said, sitting on his bed and reaching for his duffle.  
  
"It would appear so," Castiel replied, voice oddly strained.  
  
Dean frowned and stopped to look over his shoulder. He didn't think Castiel had gotten hurt though the wendigo had given it his best shot, but he'd been a bit distracted by the hysterical teenage campers it had captured. They'd not dealt with the situation very well at all to say the least. So he could well have missed something though he was pretty sure that nothing other than a supercharged demon or fellow archangel could hurt his... friend now (lover? Or was that too soon? And boyfriend just sounded wrong on too many levels to contemplate).  
  
The moment Dean saw Castiel's face, he knew he'd had it all wrong. Cas' voice wasn't strained because he was in pain, but rather because he was trying to control himself. Dean had taken his shirts off in annoyance, both at the wendigo and at himself, and hadn't even stopped to think about how it might affect his angel who had only just recently become sexually aware. The marvel, wonder and desire he saw in that gaze aroused him.  
  
Slowly, slowly, Dean reminded himself as he swallowed thickly. He was going to do this right. "Hey, Cas?"  
  
"Yes, Dean?" Castiel replied, looking up to meet his eyes without any embarrassment or self-consciousness whatsoever for having been caught staring.  
  
Dean felt another jolt of arousal at the realization. As an angel, Castiel had none of the taboos modern society put on sex or various aspects thereof, neither did he know to be modest or embarrassed about his desire and needs. He could only imagine what the results of this combination would be in a lover, but it was enough for him to want to find out right now.  
  
"Remember all of that stuff I said about personal space and the like?" Dean asked.  
  
In return he got a head tilt and it made him smile. Castiel was learning that some questions didn't need to be answered.  
  
"Well that's for acquaintances or friends and for out in public. When people are... more, like us, then all that's not so important when you're alone."  
  
"But it makes you uncomfortable."  
  
"Because it was inappropriate for the situation, for what we were. Now, however, it wouldn't be. Now it's okay to be close or to touch if you want to."  
  
It said a lot about how much time he'd spent around angels that Dean didn't so much as flinch when Castiel suddenly appeared next to him, well within his personal space. Instead, he just patted the bed beside him and smiled as the angel sat. He leaned forward for a kiss and Castiel responded immediately, his hands coming up to frame his face. Slowly, almost hesitantly, one of them began to slide down and he encouraged the move by leaning closer and running his tongue along the angel's lips. The speed and eagerness with which Cas responded and reciprocated made Dean moan just as the hand exploring him slid onto his chest and seemed to embolden the angel.  
  
Dean pulled back for more air and could only watch Castiel's face as the angel looked down at his chest, other hand coming down to join the first, exploring. He moaned again at the look of awe and wonder on his angel's face. He didn't get it, why Castiel kept looking at him like that. He just wasn't worth it, never had been, and Cas of all people should be well aware of that fact. He'd seen him down in Hell after all, when he'd been at his worst. He had even held the twisted and tattered shreds of his sorry excuse for a soul, so he just didn't get it.  
  
"Dean."  
  
The tone was firm and brokered no room for disobedience. It was the kind of tone that would normally set Dean on edge, bringing the snarky, give attitude side forwards for all it was worth. Now, however, it didn't and that brought him to attention as much as anything else. Only his father had ever really circumnavigated that particular default of his, with everyone else often getting the exact opposite of the desired effect. Castiel, too, had learned this of him, and the hard way at that, but his angel could be every inch just as much the stubborn bastard as Dean could and kept on trying. Now, though, that same tone had gone straight past his default to reach  _him_ , the real him.  
  
"Stop it," Castiel admonished.  
  
"What?" Dean tried innocently, seeking another kiss.  
  
He got it and a few more, letting him think he was safe, though he really should have known better. Hadn't he just been thinking of how stubborn Cas could be? What he'd forgotten to add to that was sneaky. The angel could be a sly bastard when he wanted to be.  
  
"Stop berating yourself like that."  
  
Dean swallowed, trying to look away, but Castiel's hand had reached up to cup his face and turn it back towards him once more. This time their eyes met and held, and Dean could feel time slipping away from him as it so often did in the angel's presence. His whole world seemed to narrow down to the eyes gazing into his own and the two points of skin-to-skin contact between them where Castiel's hands rested on his face and chest. His own were resting on the clothes Cas wore and thus didn't count.  
  
Dean wasn't sure how long they'd been staring at each other or how long they would have kept at it if Castiel hadn't started moving his fingers. But the angel did and when one of them accidentally brushed his nipple, his eyes fell closed and a small sound escapes him. When he opened them again, he found he'd garnered himself another head tilt, with the angel's eyes flickering between his face and chest. Before he could say anything, Castiel brushed his fingers deliberately over the nipple, this time with more force. He groaned his approval.  
  
It was as Castiel started to explore what reaction other touches caused that Dean realized his angel was far too overdressed for this as he really wanted to reciprocate. To let Cas feel what this type of attention felt like. To this end, he reached down and swept aside the trench coat and suit jacket as much as he could without making Castiel stop what he was doing. The tiny buttons of the dress shirt annoyed him on principle, but he diligently got to work on opening them, letting his fingers brush Castiel's skin as he did so. The angel stopped what he was doing and closed his eyes, almost as if wanting to concentrate on the sensations it caused. He took this as a good sign and leaned in for another kiss. The angel started his explorations again, tracing muscles, though Dean was aware that a part of his attention was now focused inwards to the new feelings and sensations being awoken within him due to this type of contact and he reminded himself to go slow.  
  
This was all completely new for Castiel and Dean didn't want to rush him. He was more than content to just leave it at this as his own actions were wringing beautiful sounds from the angel. With the last of the buttons conquered, he swept his hands inside along warm skin before he suddenly flinched, twisting aside with a laugh.  
  
"Cas!"  
  
The angel looked perplexed now, completely unaware of what he'd done. "Dean?"  
  
"Sorry," Dean said, moving close once more. "But that tickled."  
  
"Tickled?"  
  
"Yeah, it's... here, let me show you."  
  
Dean had been so focused on the prize he'd just revealed, that he'd momentarily lost track of where Castiel's fingers were roaming and they'd run lightly under his armpits, insatiably curious to see and touch every part of him that had been revealed with the removal of his ruined shirts. It had been almost inevitable that the angel would find one of his ticklish spots given how diligently his chest was being mapped. Now he just hoped that angels were actually ticklish as that would just figure. Besides, it was such a fun little thing about being human that he suddenly wanted very much to share it with his angel. He let his fingers sweep lightly up Castiel's sides, heading towards his armpits and knew he'd succeeded when suddenly there was nothing beneath his hands but thin air and the rustling of feathers filled the room. Castiel now stood about a foot from the bed, shirt still hanging open and looking at him with a vaguely accusatory expression.  
  
"Dude, that's cheating!" Dean proclaimed, words belied by the large smile on his face.  
  
"That was an... unpleasant sensation," Castiel proclaimed.  
  
"Unpleasant? Come on, Cas, it was tickling, it's supposed to make you laugh."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Just... 'cause. Come 'ere."  
  
The look the angel gave him now was full of suspicion and wariness, but he stepped closer regardless and Dean wiggled his fingers at him encouragingly.  
  
"Look, I promise if you still don't like it after trying it properly, I won't do it again."  
  
That seemed to reassure Castiel and he retook his seat beside Dean, though somewhat stiffly.  
  
"No flying off now," Dean admonished.  
  
Then he leaned forward to repeat what he'd done only this time with no success whatsoever. Dean frowned and tried again, going right for the armpits now, but had no more luck. Well that just figured, the angel could turn it off just like Sam, which really wasn't fair as he couldn't do that.  
  
"You're no fun," Dean groused, giving up.  
  
He pulled back a bit to mock scowl at Castiel's innocent expression. Dean read the intent there seconds before the angel's hands came up and mimicked what his own had done seconds before. He jerked, already laughing as he tried to twist his body away. Cas wasn't having any of it though, moving to follow and they both ended sprawled across the bed by the time Dean had caved and called for mercy.  
  
Now he was lying on his back, breathing hard while Castiel lay on his side next to him, watching him intently. Just the thought of how much that would once have creeped him out was enough to make him smile.  
  
"You should laugh more," Castiel observed.  
  
Dean snorted. "Yeah, there's not exactly much to laugh about these days."  
  
"Still, I like it when you laugh. Your soul glows and sparks, while your face is even more beautiful than normal."  
  
"Dude! 'm not a chick."  
  
Castiel tilted his head, frowning in confusion. "No, you are a man."  
  
"Exactly! Guys aren't beautiful or pretty."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Just... 'cause. That's chick stuff, guys can be handsome."  
  
"Well then your face is even more handsome when you smile or laugh."  
  
Dean fought off a rare blush that he could feel coming on. Okay, so there were apparently some downsides to Castiel's frankness and lack of social manners when it came to sexual situations. He must have failed in his attempt to suppress his blush as Cas' fingers came up to trace his cheek before the angel kissed him. Given the fact that they were lying on a bed and Castiel was partially draped over him, his dick immediately started to harden. Luckily his angel chose that moment to put his hand back on his chest and he tensed slightly, expecting another tickle attack. After a moment, though, he realized that he was just being explored again.  
  
They kissed lazily for a little while as Dean did some exploring of his own, showing Castiel what it felt like to be on the receiving end of such attention. The kisses ended when he lightly tweaked his angel's nipples, making Cas moan. The blissed-out expression on his face made Dean want to do more, so he slid down the bed so he could lick and gently bite the hard nubs. That resulted in a cry of ecstasy and, for the first time, he felt the brush of an erection against him as Castiel instinctively rocked his hips back and forth ever so slightly.  
  
No, not this time, not this time. Dean fought off the urge to throw caution to the wind and completely strip his lover and instead let Castiel pull him upwards. Their lips met again and Dean pulled Cas down against him so he had all of the glorious skin pressed up against him. This would have to be more than enough for now.


	26. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel gets distracted by his mate while on a case.

**PAST**  
  
  
The speed with which Dean had responded to his text inquiring about his location was gratifying and Castiel instantly flew towards it, adjusting his landing slightly so it would be out of sight of the people his mate was talking to. He then walked into view, but stopped when the younger woman seemed to shrink away from him, hiding behind the older woman.  
  
"It's okay," Dean soothed. "He's with me."  
  
Dean's words caused another surge in the emotions that Castiel was only just starting to understand even though he knew the present situation had nothing to do with that type of claim. Knowing what came next from the suit Dean was wearing, he fished the fake ID his hunter had given him a few weeks ago out of his inner pocket and held it up as Dean had told him to.  
  
"This is my partner, Special Agent Bocelli," Dean explained and the younger woman relaxed. "Please continue."  
  
"Melinda just kept seeing these people that no one else could," the older woman said. "At first they would just walk past her or stand and stare, but then they started approaching her."  
  
Castiel listened to a little of what the woman was saying, but found his attention kept straying back to his mate. Dean stood facing the two women, his expression open and honest, putting them at ease and encouraging them to tell him all that they knew. He must have watched the hunter interact with other humans over a thousand times now and knew that, by human standards, he stared at Dean too long and hard, but he couldn't help it. Even from the start, back before these new feelings had developed, he'd found his mate fascinating. Now, with the added desire to get as close to him as possible, it was even more tempting just observe him continuously.  
  
His time spent with humans had thought him this type of behavior made them uncomfortable, though, so Castiel made sure to look at the two women as well. He tried to make it look like he was paying attention even after he'd lost track of the conversation. It wasn't really that important, Dean had told him it was better he didn't provide his input until after they were away from the civilians anyway. Today he also found it particularly difficult to pay much attention despite how much he liked to see the way his mate interacted with others, effortlessly drawing information from them or deceiving them into thinking he was something other than what he was. It never failed to amaze him how easy and graceful Dean could make it all seem, though he suspected that was part of what being a good hunter entailed even if he didn't like it.  
  
No, today his attention kept getting drawn back to his mate himself. It seemed that now that he'd been able to explore and touch Dean's chest at will, he couldn't help but notice all of the movements his hunter made. He kept seeing them and thinking of how those strong muscles might move to accomplish the actions and he wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch. To test his theory and feel the muscles ripple and shift beneath the skin. He was so distracted by his thoughts that he almost missed his cue to say goodbye to the two women.  
  
"Distracted much?" Dean questioned softly as they walked away.  
  
"Yes."  
  
Dean snorted, though Castiel could see his lips twitch upwards nonetheless as they rounded a corner. "Anything in particular?"  
  
"You," Castiel stated.  
  
His hunter's eyes snapped up to look at him, just as Castiel knew they would. Having made sure they were alone, he used the opportunity to crowd close enough to kiss his mate. He kept advancing until Dean was pressed back against the Impala which they'd stood beside. His desire from earlier was back and he saw no reason not to reach out and touch as his hunter had told him he now could. He pulled his human's shirt from his pants and slipped his hands underneath it.  
  
"Hands! Cold!" Dean exclaimed, twisting away.  
  
With a thought, Castiel warmed his hands to keep his mate from pulling away from him. Dean stilled and kissed him instead. As they stood there like that, he felt a new desire rise within him, another new one he didn't understand. He was about to ask about it when his hunter leaned back a little.  
  
"Cas, stop, we can't do this here, it's too public."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Well, if we get caught we could be arrested or worse."  
  
"Couldn't you just show them your badge?"  
  
"That wouldn't work if they were real cops as we have no one to play backup if they wanted to test our identities."  
  
"You don't think Bobby would still back you up?"  
  
"He probably would, but there might be some initial confusion as he doesn't know that I've left Lisa and am hunting again. That could be enough to give the game away and then we'd be in even more trouble for having impersonated federal agents."  
  
"I could still get us away."  
  
"Yeah, I know, but it would put me on the federal radar again and trust me,  _that's_  far more trouble than it's worth," Dean explained. "At the moment they think I'm dead, which is the only reason why they're not trying to track me down right now."  
  
He didn't like the sound of that at all. "They were hunting you?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because they don't believe in the supernatural and think that Sam and I were going around and killing innocent people or doing whatever what we were hunting was doing."  
  
"They do not know about the supernatural?"  
  
"No, most people have forgotten that it's all real and think it's just stories."  
  
"Why don't you tell them otherwise?"  
  
"Because they'll think I'm crazy and besides, I kinda like that they don't have to worry about what's out there. That they can live life without the fear of things that they can't hope to fight or defend themselves against."  
  
"Then how can they protect themselves?"  
  
"That's my job, well me and all of the other hunters out there."  
  
"And who protects you?"  
  
"Dude, I can take care of myself."  
  
"Everyone deserves to rest."  
  
"Yeah, not me apparently."  
  
Castiel didn't like the weary resignation in his mate's voice. He wished that he could respond, that he could tell Dean that it was only a matter of time, but he knew better than to try such platitudes with his hunter. The fact that they had their biggest task still ahead of them also didn't help, which reminded him of the reason he'd sought out Dean in the first place. It never ceased to amaze him how easily he could be distracted when around his mate.  
  
"You said getting arrested was the better of the two possibilities should we be caught."  
  
"Well, down here anyway, see we're below what's called the Mason-Dixon line and that means we're in Bible thumper country."  
  
"And this is bad?" Castiel frowned.  
  
Sometimes Dean's irreverence and distaste for all things religious displeased him.  
  
"Given what we're doing, yeah. Homophobia is still a problem everywhere, but down here it reaches epic proportions with the religious nuts."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because they think God hates guys who like other guys the way we do."  
  
The words froze Castiel in the process reaching up to touch Dean's face. Then he felt anger start to flare within him at the mere thought of people ascribing something such as that to his Father. He knew that humans had some odd notions about angels and his Father, but this was going a step too far. Not only was it preposterous, but it was using Him to perpetuate a hateful prejudice.  
  
"Father doesn't hate anyone and He definitely doesn't automatically do so for whole groups of people!"  
  
"Hey, hey, I know, Cas, I'm just saying."  
  
"You humans have such ridiculous ideas about my Father sometimes."  
  
"Don't I know it," Dean replied. "You know, there was a reason I never believed any of that crap. But they claim they got it from the Bible, Sodom and Gomorra, if I'm not mistaken."  
  
"I have said it before, but your Bibl-"  
  
"Yeah, yeah, I remember, the problem is that they don't know that and they take it as the absolute truth."  
  
Castiel fought off the desire to say any more on the subject. He knew that Dean understood the problem and wasn't at fault here, but the topic just made him so angry. To think that the people they were fighting so hard to protect thought such vile things of his Father and tried to use Him in order to justify...  
  
"What exactly would they do if they caught us?" Dean's eyes turned away from him, never a good sign. "Dean."  
  
"It... depends. There's always the chance that you'd have someone who's open-minded and wouldn't care, but otherwise, the best case scenario is verbal abuse. In that case they'd insult us and pester us until we left."  
  
"And in other cases?"  
  
"They'd get physical about it. They could throw things or attack us, throwing punches and the like. Worst case, well, there have been instances of people having been lynched or otherwise killed."  
  
"Killed?" Castiel repeated in disbelief. "Religious humans would kill in my Father's name simply because some people choose to love someone they disapprove of?"  
  
"Pretty much, yeah."  
  
Castiel felt the anger surge within him and he had to still the human impulse he'd acquired to clench his fists. Not only was it an unnecessary gesture, but he still had his left hand resting on Dean's hip and his mate's body was so fragile that he could seriously hurt him if he wasn't careful. The realization as well as the knowledge that even this much contact was likely to be construed as too much based on what his mate had said in the past, had him withdrawing his hands and stepping back a pace.  
  
"My apologies, it was not my intention to endanger you."  
  
Dean glanced about before closing the distance between them again. "Cas, no, I liked it, okay? It's just that some people are idiots."  
  
"I know. You had said not in public."  
  
"Not in the South. Up North they're better, but it's still best to be careful, though some contact is fine there."  
  
"I will keep that in mind."  
  
"Good," Dean smiled. "Now let's see if we can't gank this little bastard and prevent it from doing any real harm to Melinda."  
  
"You know what it is that's bothering her?"  
  
"Yeah, sounds like a ghost with an obsession with her."  
  
Dean unlocked the Impala and moved to get in, so Castiel 'zapped' himself into the passenger seat. His mate had such quaint ways of describing things sometimes.  
  
"Ghosts do not usually focus on a particular person like that," Castiel stated, ignoring the hunter's pointed look for not having used the human way of getting into the car.  
  
"No, but I did a quick search of the house's history and there was a man who committed suicide after having lost a daughter about Melinda's age."  
  
"The violent death sufficient to create a ghost and a strong personal motive for such aberrant behavior."  
  
"That's what I thought, so I looked up the location of his burial site and it's just two hours from here. Feel like tagging along for a simple salt and burn or do you have other, more important things to take care of?"  
  
"I have some time."  
  
"Great."  
  
It pleased Castiel that Dean turned the music down to a level at which they could still hear each other. He'd noted that his mate tended to turn it up well past the point at which any kind of conversation could be held whenever he was angry or displeased with Sam. Doing what he did now was a clear indication that Dean was in a good mood and felt comfortable around him.  
  
As had happened earlier, Castiel found his eyes drawn to the movements his mate made, from his shifting grip on the steering wheel to the small movements of his head timed to match the beat of the music currently playing. It was all so interesting to watch and, based on the way Dean's lips twitched when he looked over and caught him staring, it didn't really bother the hunter as much as he used to claim it did, so he saw no need to stop.  
  
"Belliel found another series of books that might relate to the Apocalypse today when he was looking up something unrelated in the library."  
  
"He did?"  
  
"Yes, they were ones that we were unaware of."  
  
"Unaware of? How does that happen?"  
  
"They were not shelved where they should have been."  
  
"That's odd, isn't it?"  
  
"It is, especially since some of them seem to have some prophecy relating to the events from the past few months."  
  
"Whoa, wait, you mean the whole fact that we thought the Apocalypse was over when it wasn't?"  
  
"Yes. It talks about there being a false end to it."  
  
"And why didn't anyone know about this?"  
  
"I am not entirely sure and have requested a further investigation into the matter. At the moment it appears that the books were deliberately misplaced so they would not be found."  
  
"Misplaced by who?" Dean demanded, angry.  
  
"That too is unknown at the present, as are the whereabouts of the remaining books."  
  
"Remaining books?"  
  
"Yes, the only ones we have found are the ones pertaining to events that have already transpired. The other one, or other ones, are all missing."  
  
"Of course they are."  
  
Castiel knew that he wasn't very good at detecting what Dean termed sarcasm, but he was pretty sure that what his mate had just said qualified as thus.  
  
"What the hell is going on here, Cas?"  
  
"I don't know, Dean, but I shall find out."


	27. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel interrupts Dean while he's indulging himself in a little fantasy.

**PAST**  
  
  
Dean groaned as he tightened his fist around his cock and pulled, twisting as he reached the head. Behind closed eyes, he saw Castiel as he'd seen the angel the last time they'd managed to catch some time to themselves. His shirt was opened, revealing a lightly muscled, pale chest that he just wanted to lick and bite and pull up against his own naked chest. His hair was mussed even more than normal from the way his hands had been running through it and his tie was hanging limply from his neck, almost but not quite completely undone.  
  
In his mind, Dean now used that tie to pull the angel towards him so he could claim those bruised lips with his own. Fake Castiel slowly responded to him, his hands coming up to touch Dean's chest, tracing the lines of his muscles much as the real Castiel had done the first time he'd told him he could touch. He felt arousal flare and spread within him as fake Castiel's hands drifted lower and desperate noises started to fall from his lips.  
  
"Cas," he groaned, voice deep and rough.  
  
He tightened his fist even more and started to speed up his strokes as his need built steadily. Dean was so involved in his fantasy, imaging his angel's hands taking the place of his own, that he almost missed the sound of wings.  
  
Almost, but not quite.  
  
Dean's eyes flew open and he found himself looking at a stunned Castiel. The angel just stood there, gazing at him, eyes wide and clearly rendered speechless, though not necessarily in a bad way if the manner in which his throat worked was any indication. Dean could only imagine the image he presented, laying naked on his bed, masturbating and covered in a light sheen of sweat. The thought made him moan, the idea of being so exposed when Castiel was still fully clothed turning him on even further.  
  
Some part of Dean's mind was trying to tell him that he should stop now, let go of his cock and cover himself up. Yes, Castiel was basically his boyfriend, but they'd never gone this far before and he was going to take things slow. The rest of his mind overruled the objection in an instant, the endorphins and pleasure coursing through him overwhelming reason easily.  
  
"Cas."  
  
It was a plea and an apology all at once and his hips snapped up involuntarily, driving his cock through his own hand. The sudden heat in the angel's gaze as he watched the involuntary movement was almost too much for him and Dean had to close his eyes. They flew open again as he felt the bed shift and it was to find Castiel above him.  
  
"Dean."  
  
The angel's voice was lower and rougher than Dean had ever heard it before and he moaned low and deep, pulling Castiel down on top of him, into a dirty kiss. The arousal singing in his veins made him throw caution into the wind and he ground up against the body covering his, desperately seeking more friction now that his hand was no longer on his cock. It seemed to take Castiel a few seconds to react, but then his hands were roaming Dean's heated skin and he groaned his approval, not stopping his search for the angel's tonsils, not that Castiel seemed to mind. Wanting to be able to touch skin himself, he started to undue the damned buttons of the dress shirt.  
  
Dean cursed as his suddenly clumsy fingers slipped and failed. Seemingly as impatient himself, Castiel must have used his mojo as the next thing Dean knew, he was touching bare skin, the trench coat, suit jacket and shirt all gone. He let his left hand drift down to pinch a nipple as he bucked up again, an embarrassing whine escaping from his lips.  
  
"Dean," Castiel moaned, one hand drifting down to rest on the hunter's hip. "Tell me what to do, what you want."  
  
"J- just do whatever-" Dean broke off to gasp and groan as his angel bit his neck lightly, making his first hickey. "Whatever you want. Whatever feels good."  
  
Castiel seemed a little hesitant at first, covering much of what they'd done in the past before allowing his hand to drift lower, to unknown territory. It ran down along the outside of his leg to the back of his knee before coming up again. Dean moaned as his angel pulled back a little, but then there was a hand on his cock and his hips snapped up, seeking more friction. He'd found his lover to be a quick study and therefore wasn't very surprised when the hand started to imitate what he'd been doing to himself when Cas had arrived.  
  
It was like his little fantasy had come to life and Dean could feel himself getting closer at that alone. He glanced down and groaned at the sight of his angel giving him a hand job. It was nearly perfect, just-  
  
"Harder," Dean requested.  
  
His lover hesitated and Dean reached down and wrapped his own hand on top of Castiel's, demonstrating the right force and grip to use and showing him what he liked. He was no longer even trying to control or repress the sounds escaping him and all it took was one look up to find himself the center of that intense, fascinated and awed gaze and he was coming harder than he had in years. Everything went white for a moment but when he came back down a little, it was to find he was still the center of that gaze and that he was still being closely watched. It would figure that his angel was someone who liked to watch others come.  
  
Then Castiel's hand was moving on his now limp cock again and Dean squirmed. "No, Cas, stop, too much."  
  
"Too much is bad?"  
  
Only his angel would still be asking such questions now, when he could feel Castiel's own erection pressing against his hip. "It's oversensitive."  
  
"Oh, okay."  
  
Instead, Castiel pulled his hand away to examine the semen covering it. For one moment, Dean thought he might lick it, which would have been more familiar to him than the intense scrutiny his seed was currently getting, before it suddenly vanished. The slight tingling sensation on his cock and stomach told him Cas had mojoed it all away. And wasn't that handy? He tried to ignore how hot he'd found the image of Castiel tasting his cum and instead focused on what he could do to his angel instead. Whether or not he was aware of it, Cas was starting to grind his erection up against him and he felt the angel definitely deserved better than that.  
  
"What were you doing?" Castiel demanded, voice wrecked and deep with need.  
  
"What? You mean when you arrived?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"I was masturbating."  
  
"Self-pleasuring?"  
  
"Yeah, self-pleasuring," Dean confirmed, smiling as he pressed a kiss to Castiel's throat, rolling them so the angel was on his back. "Was thinking of you though."  
  
The angel's breath hitched at that and Dean filed it away for future use. Who knew what kind of kinks his lover might have? Not wanting to tease too much this early in Castiel's sex life, he let his hand trail down the angel's chest to start undoing the belt so he could get at his cock. The next instant the belt, pants and underwear were gone and his hand slipped sideways to rest on the angel's hip.  
  
"Impatient much?" Dean laughed. "That's cheating, you know."  
  
"Dean, please!"  
  
"Shh, s'okay, I got you."  
  
Dean found himself responding instantly to the sheer  _need_  in his lover's voice. It was unlike anything he'd heard in the angel's voice before and he knew he was already addicted to it. One touch to Castiel's cock was all he needed to be addicted to that as well, not to mention the strangled little noises currently escaping from Cas' mouth. They were the most beautiful thing he'd ever heard and he gave a quick twist of his wrist to wring more of them out.  
  
"Dean!"  
  
Castiel's hands had come up clutch at him desperately as the angel's hips bucked up frantically. Dean loved the pleasure glazed look in those blue eyes and wanted to make it even better.  
  
"Hey Cas, you wanna find out what a blowjob is?" Dean asked.  
  
It took a few seconds for the words to register, but then the angel looked at him. "Yes, Dean. Please, anything!"  
  
The whine of protest when Dean let go of the angel's cock made his own dick twitch though he knew he wasn't getting it up again anytime soon. "Shh, trust me, you're gonna like this."  
  
Dean crawled down Castiel's body, not taking the time to tease him that he otherwise would have, far too desperate to reach his target and not sure how long the angel would last. This was the first time anyone else touched him and he remembered easily how quickly he'd shot off that first time. Finally level with his prize, he looked at it for a moment and licked his lips. The feel of his hot breath was enough to make Castiel buck up and cry out.  
  
"Dean!"  
  
He glanced upwards and waited until Castiel locked eyes with him before he licked the angel's cock from root to tip. His lover cried out again and threw his head back. Not waiting any longer, Dean opened his mouth and sucked the cock into it, bringing his hands up to hold down Castiel's hips. The angel was reduced to strangled cries and whimpers as he started sucking and tracing the vein at the bottom of the cock with his tongue. Soon afterwards, Castiel was coming and he swallowed everything the angel gave him before reluctantly letting his prize go with a loud pop.  
  
He crawled back up the angel's body to find an awed and blissed out expression on Castiel's face. That uninhibited expression alone told him all he needed to know about what his lover thought about what he'd just experienced for the first time. Knowing the angel's strength, Dean draped himself partially atop the warm body beneath him and nuzzled at Cas' neck, earning himself a sated hum of approval before he closed his eyes and let the pleasant haze carry him off to sleep. His last conscious thought was how nice the arms that had come up to wrap around him felt.


	28. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after and an unexpected, not to mention unwelcome, visitor.

**PAST**  
  
  
Consciousness returned to Dean as lazily as it tended to do whenever his lover was close and he savored the knowledge, loath to give up sleep. He wasn't sure how long it took him to drift into a more aware state, but he knew it was far longer than normal for him. Eventually his surroundings came into focus enough for him to realize that he was still pressed up against Castiel, though he seemed to have been shifted down enough to be cradled against his angel's chest with his head resting on a shoulder.  
  
A part of him protested the position, such an obvious chick one, but Dean shoved it aside. He should be thankful Castiel had stuck around at all given that angels didn't sleep instead of complaining about the way he was being held. Besides, it kinda made sense if he thought about it for a moment. Cas liked to watch him, especially when he slept, and the way he'd fallen asleep, with his face pressed into the crook of the angel's neck, didn't allow for that. This position did. He wondered when the idea of being watched while sleeping had stopped creeping him out when it came to his lover.  
  
Lover.  
  
He'd tried to shy away from the label before, even if it had slipped through at times, but even Dean knew he couldn't do that anymore. Not after last night. He'd given Castiel a frigging blowjob after all and oral sex was still sex in his book, despite what certain presidents might have to say on the issue.  
  
"Good morning, Dean," Castiel said.  
  
"Mmmh," Dean replied, not quite willing to wake up the rest of the way just yet.  
  
Instead he tightened his grip on the angel's waist and settled in deeper, ignoring the little laugh that earned him. The hand that came up to run through his hair was also nice and it made Dean realize that Castiel's other hand had already been touching him, tracing along his exposed shoulder. Wait, he was lying on his right side, which meant that...  
  
Dean opened one eye enough to see that, yes, Castiel was tracing the outline of the mark he'd left. Dean huffed, his angel was apparently possessive. Instead of triggering some kind of automatic objection or defense, it served to soothe him in a bizarre way. It allowed him to think that Castiel would stick around as long as Heaven needed stuff done on Earth.  
  
Now that he'd opened one eye, Dean reluctantly opened the other though it took him a moment to focus them given his position. What came into view was nice though, a smooth expanse of pale, lightly muscled skin with a dusky nipple not too far from where his head lay. He contemplated the nipple for a moment before shifting his position slightly so he could open his mouth and lick it, earning himself a moan.   
  
"Morning," Dean said with a smile before he did it again.  
  
Then he shifted some more so he get at the nipple with his teeth, nipping it lightly. The change in position had turned him enough that his morning erection was pressed up against Castiel's thigh and he started rocking against in automatically. By the time he realized what he was doing, Castiel was pulling him up the bed and claimed his mouth in a deep kiss. He moaned his approval and then did so again as his angel shifted beneath him so they were facing each other and he could feel his lover's hardening cock against his own.  
  
"Dean?"  
  
Not entirely sure what Castiel wanted, Dean answered what he thought it might be. "'s called morning wood, most guys have an erection in the morning."  
  
"Every morning?"  
  
"Mostly."  
  
"So, before too?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"I see. My apologies."  
  
"Your apologies?" Dean stopped the lazy movements of his hips and pulled back a bit so he could see the angel's face. "What are you sorry for?"  
  
"For not knowing about it before to help you with it."  
  
"No, no, no, Cas, just no. You didn't know about it because I didn't tell you and purposefully made sure you didn't feel it. See, I didn't want to rush you into anything, still don't, as sex is about feeling good and sharing something with someone else. If something doesn't feel right, then it shouldn't be done. If anything,  _I'm_  the one that needs to be sorry."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because I was going to take things slow, let you get used to them, but I kinda blew that last night."  
  
"No, Dean, last night was very good. I liked it very much."  
  
Dean snorted. "Wow, very good, huh?"  
  
"Yes. I now wish we had gotten to it sooner as I like touching you and watching you as you ejaculate, or ejaculating myself."  
  
He couldn't help it, despite the situation and his growing need, Dean dropped his head to Castiel's shoulder and laughed. The angel had said ejaculate!  
  
"Dean?"  
  
"Coming," Dean managed to say. "We call it coming, not ejaculating."  
  
"But it is ejaculating."  
  
"Yes, but we call it coming, just like we'd say that we had sex instead of saying we copulated."  
  
"Well, I liked watching you come and coming myself."  
  
"I thought you would, most people do and..."  
  
"And what?"  
  
"And future you liked sex, you know, when Zachariah sent me to 2014. You like it  _very_  much then."  
  
Castiel frowned at him, clearly reading more in his tone and he tried to push the memory aside, not wanting it to ruin the mood.  
  
"I liked the blowjob too," his angel admitted.  
  
"Yeah? That's good. I liked the hand job you gave me, and speaking of which, how about another one now, huh?"  
  
With that, Dean reached down and took hold of both of their cocks with his hand, wringing groans out of both of them. He smeared their precum down the shafts to alleviate any discomfort before he started rocking against Castiel.  
  
"Do you like this, Cas?"  
  
"Yes! Very much so."  
  
Even as he watched, Dean could see Castiel's eyes dilate and uninhibited pleasure came over his features. It was liberating in a way, to watch someone just enjoy themselves like this, without any of the censors of modern society. He could even start to see why Cas liked watching him so much if this is what he saw. As always, it only took his lover a few repetitions to catch on to what he was doing and then Castiel was rocking into his fist as well, their cocks rubbing up against each other. He tightened his grip and bent down to bite at the base of his angel's throat even though he knew the mark wouldn't last long. Castiel's hands clutched at him as he moaned his name and made an assortment of delicious little sounds.  
  
The hitch in Cas' breathing told Dean his lover was about to come and he meant to pull back so he could watch, but just then the angel's hand found his scar and clamped down on it. The mere thought that Castiel had reached for it so instinctively and might actually leave a bruise on top of the mark was enough to push him over the edge as well and he came with a shout.  
  
This time, Dean didn't white out, though he did suddenly find himself in his angel's arms again, not altogether a bad place to be he decided. The sated feeling was enough to tempt him back to sleep again, though he knew he really had to get up at some point soon as he had a new hunt to get to in Georgia. The feeling of fingers running through the sticky mess on his stomach followed by the tingling sensation of an angel mojo clean had him looking up to find Castiel looking at their cum before moving to lick it from his fingers.  
  
Dean reached out and grabbed hold of his wrist before he could do so. "What are you doing, Cas?"  
  
"Trying it."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"You swallowed it yesterday."  
  
Okay, so he had, though he hadn't expected the angel to remember that bit. "That's 'cause I like it, most people don't. You don't have to."  
  
"No, but I would like to."  
  
"Okay."  
  
The sight of Castiel licking their cum off his fingers had Dean's dick twitching as he followed that tongue's movements with his eyes.  
  
"Well?" Dean asked, curious.  
  
"It is different from a hamburger."  
  
Dimly, Dean was aware that he'd laughed more in the past few hours then he had in months, but he couldn't help it. The things Castiel said sometimes.  
  
"Different in a good way or a bad way?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"Well, you don't have to decide now. What time is it anyway?"  
  
"Nearly ten o'clock."  
  
"Shit, we really need to get up." Dean had hardly pushed himself up into a sitting position before there was a flutter of wings and Castiel appeared at the foot of the bed, fully dressed and ready for the day. "Show off."  
  


* * *

  
Dean had hardly even closed the door on the delivery boy when he heard the flutter of wings behind him.  
  
"Perfect timing, Cas, you haven't had Chinese before, have you?" Dean questioned.  
  
"Dean Winchester."  
  
The unknown female voice had Dean whirling around and he only just managed to hold onto his takeout. His first instinct was to drop it and pull out his gun, but he knew how futile that was with an angel and thus stilled the impulsive reaction. He was, however, mentally cursing himself as he didn't have the Jewel of Abel on him at the moment. Instead it was across the room on the nightstand he'd been sitting next to, watching TV as he waited for his dinner to arrive. Crap.  
  
"Who are you?" Dean demanded, hoping to buy himself some time to figure out if this angel was friendly or not.  
  
She, or rather her vessel, was tall, slender and appeared to be about fifty-five years old. She had graying, dark brown hair and equally dark eyes that were watching him as intently as any angel he'd ever met. Although his first reaction was to think that he'd never seen her before, there was something there. Something familiar, like a half-remembered dream. It was the same for her voice, though that seemed more familiar than her actual appearance, which would make sense if he'd only met her once, a really long time ago. He frowned as he tried to place the woman but couldn't quite do so.  
  
"I mean you no harm, Dean."  
  
The non-reply instantly put Dean further on edge. If this angel, whoever she was, felt the need to tell him that before she told him her name, then it meant that he'd not only recognize it, but think of her as an enemy. He placed his takeout on the room's small table, hoping that he appeared casual doing so, not that he was sure it made much difference. Most angels didn't have enough experience interacting with humans to know the difference, but this one seemed to know a bit more about them based on the more fluid way she moved and the more natural posture the vessel was held in. Banking on the worst, he tried to remain as casual as he could as he tried to walk around the angel towards his bed and the one weapon he had in the room that would actually work against an angel.  
  
Whether or not he succeeded in disguising his intentions, the angel didn't seem inclined to stop him and Dean silently thanked the arrogance of most of their kind. In their puny opinion of humans, they left themselves wide open to attack by any human that had the knowledge and the means with which to mount a successful assault. Zachariah had definitely never seen his own death coming despite having known him for a while.  
  
"Yeah, well that's swell and all, but-" Dean began and then froze in place as the memory finally clicked.  
  
 _"Hello Dean, sweetie, did you miss me?"_  
  
The voice echoed out of his past along with a much younger version of the face he was currently looking at. It was all vague and scattered, the fragmented memories of a child less than four years old, but Dean definitely remembered her now. Auntie Deirdre, Daddy's older sister and thus a Winchester by birth and, more importantly in this case, by blood. Which could only mean one thing given the circumstances.  
  
"Michael."  
  
He spat the name, fury rising within him. Despite that, Dean's second thought was of Lucifer, if Michael had gotten out, then surely his brother had as well. Fuck, they'd been desperately hoping for more time, that Castiel's estimate would be wrong in their favor, that it would be closer to three months rather than two and a half. Apparently even two and a half was more time then they'd get as this was too early. Why hadn't his lover been able to tell that the cage would burst so much sooner than predicted? He knew Cas checked it regularly.  
  
"I don't care what you say or do to me, the answer's still no!" Dean declared fiercely.  
  
If the bastard thought he was getting him, let alone without a fight, he had another thing coming.  
  
"No, Dean, I'm not here to ask for your permission to take you as my vessel," Michael replied.  
  
"What, you gonna try facing Lucy in yet another substitute vessel? 'Cause I gotta say, that didn't work out so well for you the last time."  
  
For a moment Dean thought that he'd gone too far, the expression twisting Michael's- no Deirdre's- face something dark and fierce some, before it was smoothed away as if it had never been. Not that he wouldn't push him that far if needed, he just hadn't expected that to be enough to do so.  
  
"How'd you get her to say yes anyway?" Dean continued. "I don't particularly remember her as being the religious sort."  
  
"I don't think she was, but I don't know for sure as she was no longer there for me to ask permission of."  
  
" _What?_ "  
  
"Your aunt is dead, Dean, and has been for some time now apparently."  
  
The news somehow managed to hit Dean like a blow and he staggered back a step. He wasn't sure how or why it had the power to do so as it wasn't like he'd ever seen his aunt since before the fire. As he recalled, she'd been somewhere far away at the time of Azazel's attack and hadn't made it back by the time Dad had taken off with Sammy and himself. Perhaps it was just the knowledge that he'd lost someone else, someone who was family, that hit him so hard.  
  
"Then how the hell are you in her now?"  
  
"We do not need permission to take a vacated body."  
  
"Vacated?"  
  
"Her body was being sustained artificially at a hospital."  
  
"Oh."  
  
Dean shivered as he realized the full implications of that particular loophole. If Zachariah had taken it into his head to attack him in such a way that he was brain dead but his body still lived...  
  
"So, basically, you're circumventing the rules God established to protect us from you dickwads is what you're saying."  
  
The dark expression was back on Michael's face and damn, but Dean was never going to be able to think of his aunt again without seeing that expression on her face. That alone was enough to anger him to the extent that he didn't particularly care if he was pissing off an archangel. Besides, if he managed to distract Michael enough, then he just might be able to get at the Jewel of Abel. Sure, Castiel and destiny probably hadn't intended for him to use it on this particular brother, but he doubted Cas would mind and destiny could go fuck itself as far as he was concerned.  
  
"Dean, I-"  
  
Whatever else Michael intended to say was cut off as, with another flutter of wings, a furious-looking Castiel appeared in the room and Dean dived across the bed for the Jewel of Abel.  
  



	29. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Castiel deal with Michael's unexpected appearance.

**PAST**  
  
  
Dean grabbed the Jewel of Abel and let himself roll off the bed on the other side in a controlled fall so he was out of sight of the two archangels and could put the weapon on undetected.  
  
"You can't have him," Castiel declared angrily. "He's not yours to take."  
  
"Castiel, Brother-" Michael began.  
  
The words were followed by a crash and Dean winced though he approved of Castiel's tactics. As his lover had said before, he just didn't have the knowledge and experience when it came to fighting with his new abilities that the other archangels did, so he had to compensate by using every other trick in the book. If Michael wanted to give him that kind of opening, then it was his own fault for leaving himself vulnerable. His father had disabused him of the notion of 'fighting fair' early on, teaching him that when it came to the supernatural, there really was no fair as they tended to have all kinds of abilities humans didn't. Therefore it often came down to them using their knowledge and any opening they could find to defeat them.  
  
The clash of metal on metal told Dean that the angel swords had come out and it made his heart leap into his throat. He wanted to tell Castiel to get the hell out of there, to run while he still could, but he knew his lover too well to think that he would leave him with Michael. God, this was exactly the situation he'd been hoping to avoid. His angel was strong enough to survive this Apocalypse as long as he didn't pull any stupid stunts like this, dammit.  
  
"Castiel, stop, please," Michael pleaded. "I only wish to talk to you and Dean."  
  
"What? Like the time you talked with him in the past?" Castiel demanded. "Trying to convince him that becoming your vessel was the sole purpose of his existence?"  
  
It was odd for Dean to listen to someone fighting for him like this. At least this was not a time where he was helpless to help Castiel. The moment the Jewel of Abel slid into place in his palm, it activated, the strands coming to wrap around his wrist and the jewel glowing softly as he concentrated the energy there. So far so good, but they were about to enter unknown territory here. This was as far as he and Cas had ever gotten in their training session together. Oh well, it wasn't like they had much to lose here by giving it a go.  
  
"No, that's not why I'm here," Michael denied.  
  
"I will not let you have him!"  
  
When Dean looked over the top of the bed, it was to find Michael with his back to him, shoving Castiel up against the wall. The sight caused fear to shoot through him as he saw the crossed swords between the two angels, far too close to his lover for his comfort.  
  
"Castiel, enough of this! You will cease this ridiculous behavior at once!" Michael ordered.  
  
Dean saw the intent in his lover's eyes a moment before Cas spoke and for once he knew what it was like to be in Sam or Castiel's shoes all those times he shot off his mouth to some creature far more powerful than himself.  
  
"Make me!" Castiel challenged, meeting his brother's gaze head-on.  
  
"Such a foolish human sentiment, Castiel. I do not understand what Father was thinking."  
  
Not one to waste such an opportunity, Dean rose to his feet and took aim with the Jewel of Abel, remembering to tilt his hand the way Castiel had shown him to. He frowned though as he found that he couldn't quite get a good lock on Michael that didn't also place his lover in the target area. Although he had no doubt that Cas would tell him to take the shot, he had no intention of doing so. Not only did he not know how much damage the Jewel could cause, but it was just a bad idea to take down his best hope of escaping this situation unscratched.  
  
"Hey, Michael, leave Cas alone, it's me you want," Dean said, hoping to give Castiel a means of getting out of the way.  
  
As expected, Michael twisted around to face him, the brief moment of inattention all his angel needed to twist out of the way. Not giving the archangel a moment to react, Dean shoved the energy at the Jewel and hoped like hell it would do more then it had in the Antarctic. The hum of the device quickly morphed into a high pitched whine before a pulse of... of  _light_  was all that he could call it, shot from his hand to hit Michael head on, sending him back against the wall with enough force to create an archangel sized dent in it. He winced, hoping no one was next door to complain to the front desk about the noise. The last thing they needed was for a motel clerk to come pounding on the door, demanding to be let in.  
  
Then the world shifted around him and it took Dean a moment to realize that he was falling, though by then he'd been caught by his angel who was looking at him with worry written all over his face.  
  
"Dean? What happened?" Castiel demanded.  
  
"Whoa, crap!" Dean replied, shaking his head. "Careful, but the first step's a doozy!"  
  
"I do not understand that reference."  
  
A moan had Dean looking at Michael to see the angel seemed to be in a similar state as himself. Okay, great, the Jewel of Abel could clearly knock even an archangel for a loop, unfortunately it took far too much out of him to be used willy-nilly. With Cas' help, he got back to his feet and was more or less able to stay there, though he made a mental note not to make any sudden movements or he'd probably do another swan dive.  
  
"So, now what?" Dean demanded.  
  
"I don't know," Castiel replied though he approached his brother.  
  
Dean assumed it was to take Michael's sword from him, but just then, the archangel shifted enough to take hold of it once more.  
  
"Careful!" Dean warned, bringing his right hand up.  
  
He wasn't sure what using the Jewel again so quickly would do to him, but he could feel the energy thrumming through him and was more than willing to give it another go if he had to. Castiel stepped to one side, though he had his own sword out again, ready to use it if he had to. Instead of trying anything, though, Michael merely moved his hand and suddenly his sword was gone. Damn but he hated when they did that.  
  
"I mean you no harm," Michael stated, really looking kinda pathetic where he was slumped against the crumbling plaster. "I just wish to speak with you."  
  
"I say we go," Castiel said. "I am uncertain how he found you so quickly after getting out, but he won't be able to follow us now and the-"  
  
"Wait," Dean interrupted. "If he's out, then is Lucifer out too?  
  
"No, he's still locked up for now," Michael replied. "And he should remain that way for another two or three months."  
  
"How?" Castiel demanded. "The cage was deteriorating much faster than that."  
  
"With both of us in there. Now that I'm out, it will hold for longer then it would have before."  
  
"Well at least that's some good news," Dean stated. "It's about high time we got some too."  
  
"How is it that you managed to get out but Lucifer didn't?" Castiel demanded.  
  
"I built that cage and therefore know its design and weaknesses better than Lucifer ever could despite having spent millennia in it."  
  
"Cas?" Dean questioned.  
  
"It's possible," Castiel responded, his head tilted in that particular way of his as he regarded his older brother.  
  
Michael was returning Cas' gaze and they seemed frozen like that, almost like a living painting that Dean could have seen in that creepy ass green room of Zachariah's. The thought made him shiver, knowing now that the douchebag had intended for him to become Michael's vessel that day right after they were sure that Sam had released Lucifer from his prison. Would he have said yes if his lover hadn't come to his senses and told him the truth? He just very well might have if he'd thought the final seal had just been lost and that was the only way to ensure that the Devil himself wasn't unleashed on Earth. Back then he hadn't yet known enough to know how many people would likely die in the battle.  
  
Then Michael was looking at him, gaze warily regarding the Jewel of Abel for a moment and Dean thought he could detect surprise and some admiration in that dark gaze of his aunt for a moment before it was gone. The archangel then looked up and met his eyes.  
  
"You are not what you seem, Dean Winchester."  
  
Dean arched an eyebrow. "I'm gonna take that as a compliment."  
  
"Take it however you want as long as you listen to me."  
  
"Dean," Castiel intoned. "Let me take you somewhere else that's safe so we can decide what to do next."  
  
"Hang on a minute, Cas, let him have his say," Dean said.  
  
"But Dean-"  
  
"What can it hurt to listen to him?"  
  
Although Castiel didn't say anything, the moment their eyes met, Dean could read the fear in his lover's blue gaze. The breath caught in his throat as he realized what Cas was afraid of. The last time they had words about Michael had been right before his angel had beat the crap out of him for trying to say yes to the archangel. He swallowed hard at the fear that stunt had obviously caused his lover and still managed to evoke within him even now. He imagined it probably wasn't that different to the terror he'd experienced when Sam had first mentioned the possibility of saying yes to Lucifer.  
  
"Hey," Dean said softly. "I'm not gonna do something stupid here, Cas, I promise."  
  
Some of the tension instantly vanished from his lover's shoulders and Dean returned his gaze to their captive, realizing that he probably should never have taken it off of him to begin with. Michael was watching them closely, clearly taking in all of the nuances of their interaction and he felt anger rise within him at the mere thought of the archangel trying to use it against them. Michael obviously noticed it as he focused his gaze on him.  
  
"I'm not here for that, Dean."  
  
Briefly Dean wondered how the archangel could possibly have guessed what he was thinking, but then realized it boiled down to good strategy to assess your enemy and figure out their weaknesses. "Oh yeah? Then what are you here for, Mikey?"  
  
The exasperated look he got from Castiel alone made the new nickname worth it to Dean. Michael's expression, though, would also have made it worth it. It was some strange mixture between confusion, distaste and disapproval. It nearly made him frown, wondering why the archangel seemed so much better with understanding human interaction then his angel had been. Was that purely because Michael'd had more experience dealing with humans or was there another reason?  
  
"Do not call me that," Michael ordered. "My name is Michael."  
  
"I'll call you whatever the hell I damn well please, Mikey," Dean retorted, waving his hand and the Jewel of Abel a little. "You're in no position to make any demands here."  
  
Michael's eyes narrowed and Dean could feel Castiel tensing beside him before his lover stepped closer to him. It was probably a good idea for them to be close together so Cas could zap them out of there at a moment's notice should things go south all of a sudden. They  _were_  dealing with what could possibly be the strongest of the archangels here.  
  
"Look, either say what you want or we're outta here," Dean continued.  
  
"I want to know why," Michael stated.  
  
"Why what?"  
  
"Why Father chose to bring Castiel back, not once but twice, and why He chose to make him more than he was before the second time."  
  
"That's easy, it's 'cause Cas had the backbone to stand up to the rest of you lot do what was right while you guys were fucking things up."  
  
"You don't understand and how could you? You're just a human."  
  
The Jewel of Abel nearly discharged again as anger surged within Dean. As it was, the humming picked up and the Jewel glowed brightly before he could reign it back in again. Much as he'd like to zap the douchebag again, he was in no condition to do so just now.  
  
"That is part of your problem," Castiel explained, placing a hand on Dean's shoulder. "You view humans as beneath us, as tools to be used and discarded when you're done, instead of as the greatest of Father's creations."  
  
"Cas-" Dean began.  
  
"Shush, Dean."  
  
The response caught Dean so off-guard that he obeyed, his scowl vanishing as he blinked in surprise. For Castiel that was as good as telling him to shut up. He really was a bad influence.  
  
"We were meant to look after and protect them," Castiel continued. "Not carelessly waste their lives and bring about the deaths of millions just so we could have Paradise."  
  
"They would get it too," Michael countered.  
  
"Yeah, well maybe we don't want it, did you ever stop to consider that?" Dean demanded.  
  
"It's Paradise, how could you not want it?"  
  
"Because the price is too high, nothing worth having costs that much."  
  
"You were also going to force it upon them," Castiel added. "Humans were given free will for a reason, Brother, to take that away from them is unacceptable. Attempting to do so only makes them resist you."  
  
"Big time," Dean confirmed. "Which Cas knows very well from experience."  
  
"You don't want Paradise," Michael repeated in disbelief.  
  
Dean snorted. "If your idea of Paradise is anything like Heaven, then you can shove it. I don't want any part of it."  
  
Michael stared at him in astonishment, apparently speechless at the fact that someone could not want Heaven. What did he expect though? After Zachariah's little stunt, he was never going to be able to think of Heaven the same way again. Not that he'd ever particularly thought much of it to begin with, always suspecting that it was too good to be true anyway. He just wished he could have been proven wrong another way, as it was he could still see his mother's hate-filled face spewing venom at him in his dreams on a regular basis.  
  
Then Michael turned his attention back to his brother. "This is why you changed the human portion of Heaven?"  
  
"Yes, Heaven should not be a place people dread going to, it should be a reward."  
  
"Just because one human disliked it does not mean all of them do."  
  
"He was not alone in his assessment. Were you aware that several dozen groups of souls had started to find means to circumvent the way things were run in an attempt to change the way they spent their time there?"  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because we're not pets to be kept in little cages," Dean snapped. "And some of us would rather not relive the same crap over and over again."  
  
Okay, so he was letting his resentment really color his tone but he couldn't help it. The mere thought of spending eternity like  _that_  horrified him. It was definitely more than enough to make him wish there were a third option other than Heaven and Hell. He knew Castiel hated it, but he couldn't help but see Heaven as anything more than the lesser of two evils instead of something to look forward to with anything other than dread. He'd also started to wonder what happened to those souls who hardly had two good memories to cycle through, the vast majority of his had since been tainted by Sam and Bobby's betrayals.  
  
"So what happens now?" Michael questioned.  
  
"Those souls that liked the way things were can remain like that," Castiel explained. "The others can now spend their time with those they like and love."  
  
"I see." A few moments of silence. "I still do not understand why Father made you an archangel, though." Dean opened his mouth to defend his lover but Michael continued on before he could say anything. "You do not understand, Dean, Father has never done anything like this. Ever."  
  
"Because I did what He wanted."  
  
"He is the one who created the prophecies that Raphael and I were following," Michael countered.  
  
"Look, I don't know much about these prophecies, but I doubt they involved you guys jumpstarting the freaking Apocalypse," Dean interjected.  
  
"Exactly," Castiel agreed, a speculative look crossing his face. "You do not understand why you were punished, why Father left you in the cage with Lucifer."  
  
The wounded look on the downed angel's face told Dean that his lover had gotten it right. He frowned as he suddenly wondered for how long the Jewel of Abel was able to knock an angel out for. Was it possible that Michael was even now playing possum, trying to lull them into a false sense of security?  
  
"Do you want to find out?"  
  
"Cas, what are you doing?" Dean asked, a bad feeling rising within him.  
  
"Yes," Michael replied.  
  
"Are you sure you want to? Enough to listen to myself and to Dean?" Castiel questioned.  
  
The latter clearly made Michael pause and Dean sent him a dark look. Oh this was getting off to a great start already.  
  
"Dean is the whole reason that I did what I did," Castiel stated. "If you are not willing to listen to him, then you might as well leave now."  
  
"Cas."  
  
What the hell are you doing, Dean wanted to ask, but he didn't think questioning his lover like that in front of Michael was a particularly great thing to do.  
  
"Fine," Michael gave in ungracefully.  
  
Castiel regarded his brother for a few moments, assessing him before turning back to Dean. "Dean, I think we should give him a chance to prove himself and his willingness to see why what he did was so displeasing to Father."  
  
"And I thought you were afraid that  _I'd_  be the one to make a stupid decision here."   
  
Well, so much for not questioning his lover.  
  
"Please, Dean."  
  
Dean scowled, surprisingly unable to say no in the face of that expression from his lover. Christ, but it was like Sammy's old puppy dog expression, the one he'd never been able to resist worth a damn either.  
  
"He wants to wear me to the prom, have you forgotten that?"  
  
"No, but he cannot do that as long as you refuse to give him permission."  
  
"That rule didn't help my aunt any."  
  
At those words Castiel's eyes shot back to his brother, assessing him. "What?"  
  
"Apparently being brain dead is enough for you guys not to need permission if the body is still alive."  
  
"Michael?"  
  
"I found her this way, Castiel. I promise in the name of our Father that I had nothing to do with her coming to be in this condition."  
  
Even Dean'd had enough experience with angels to know a vow like that was not made lightly. Still, it seemed damned coincidental, but sometimes coincidences  _did_  happen. Didn't mean he couldn't be suspicious about the whole situation though. One look at Castiel was all he needed to see that his angel still wanted to try.  
  
Dean pointed a finger at his lover. "This is a bad idea."  
  
The small smile Castiel gave him nearly made it worth it. "Thank you, Dean."  
  
"As for you," Dean continued, turning his attention to Michael. "I'm gonna be watching you closely, very closely, pal. You set one foot out of line or I even think you're going to double cross us that's it, got it?"  
  
The whole situation was almost worth it just to see that expression on Michael's face. It was the most peculiar mixture between self-righteous anger, resignation, confusion and resentment that Dean had ever seen. Well, if the archangel didn't like it, then he could just flit off to wherever it was that angels went to lick their wounded egos.  
  
Dean still couldn't believe that he was agreeing to this in the first place. This was a phenomenally bad idea and coming from him, that said a lot. He was sure that they were going to regret this. Who'd have thought he'd cave for a pair of blue eyes?  
  



	30. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean finally meet for the first time since Stull Cemetery.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
Before his grandfather could reply to his last comment, Sam's phone rang.  
  
"What the Hell is this?" Christian demanded.  
  
"I don't know," Sam replied.  
  
"Are we still going in as planned?"  
  
"Yes, just keep your eyes peeled. Oh, the guy in the trench coat standing right next to Dean is Castiel."  
  
"The angel?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Brilliant. I told you there would be something supernatural involved in this."  
  
"Hey, Cas is not some monster we need to kill."  
  
"Are you still sure about that?"  
  
Sam opened his mouth to reply, but then stopped. Did he really know for sure that Castiel was on the up and up here? The angel had done some pretty stupid stuff in the past and Dean wasn't exactly known for being a great influence on people at the best of times. Who knew what those two had taken it into their heads to do without himself or Bobby there to monitor the situation and steer them clear of their more stupid and risky plans?  
  
"Look, whether he's on our side or not, you really don't want to start shooting at him or anything like that," Sam replied instead. "From what Bobby said, he's been restored to his full power and Dean and Bobby tried everything they had against him during their first meeting and he didn't so much as blink. There's only two things that work against angels as far as I know and we don't have either."  
  
"And what are those?"  
  
"Angel swords and lit holy oil."  
  
"Where do we get those?"  
  
"We don't, you have to get them from an angel, at least as far as I know. Dean probably still has them, but they'd be in the trunk of the Impala and there's no way you'd get at that before Castiel stopped you."  
  
"I don't like this."  
  
"Tough."  
  
With that, Sam disconnected the call and shared a look with his grandfather.  
  
"Let me guess, he wants to pull out," Samuel stated.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"He has a point, but I think it's too late to back out now. There are too many unanswered questions about this whole deal and if that angel is still on Earth, then we need to find out why and whether any of the others are still here as well."  
  
A very good point and one that Sam hadn't even thought of, which just went to show how far off his game he currently was. He wasn't used to that anymore. Ever since he'd first joined the Campbells, he'd been getting better and better at hunting now that he finally had partners who were at the same level as him and who shared his drive.  
  
"Well, here goes nothing then."  
  
Samuel threw him an odd look and Sam couldn't help but compare him to Castiel just then. Both of them were hopeless when it came to cultural references and certain customs which most people today took for granted. Then he pushed all those types of thoughts from his mind and focused himself completely on the upcoming situation. They were close enough for him to identify Dean with the naked eye now and a little further along Samuel slowed and stopped the car, Bobby and Christian pulling up alongside them.  
  
Sam quickly got out to ensure that his was the first face Dean and Castiel saw, just in case they got spooked should they see Christian, Gwen or Mark first. Not to mention what kind of reaction seeing Samuel might cause. The reaction they got, though, was completely not what he had expected at all. Instead of looking worried or even mildly surprised, his brother merely glanced at each one of them in turn as if they were all expected.  
  
What the hell?  
  
Castiel's lack of expression was practically par for the course, as he seemed incapable of feeling human emotions, but Dean's? That wasn't right, he shouldn't know about Samuel's resurrection or his own decision to join their mother's family. So why did he look like he did? Or, if Sam really thought about it, how did his older brother even know to text him with these coordinates in the first place? Things just weren't adding up here and he hated it. It set him edge and made him want to hit something, preferably either his brother or something supernatural that wasn't built like a rock.  
  
"Hello, Sam," Dean greeted, voice neutral.  
  
"Dean," Sam replied automatically, frowning.  
  
That had to be the most unenthusiastic greeting he'd ever received from his brother and that was saying a lot. Though they'd fought and had their bad patches, Dean was normally pretty happy to see him, especially after such a long separation. His brother just didn't deal well with being separated from his family, something he'd never seemed to grow out of no matter how normal it was to do so.  
  
"Bobby, Samuel," Dean continued, giving each man a brief tilt of his head in acknowledgement.  
  
"Dean, what is going on here?" Sam demanded, hating how little he knew about what was going on.  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the hurt Bobby tried to hide at how coldly he'd been greeted. It was just another thing that didn't add up for Sam. Dean loved Bobby, often treating him like a surrogate father and therefore he just couldn't fathom the lack of proper greeting he gave the other hunter now.  
  
Almost unconsciously, Sam had started stepping forward towards his brother, but he quickly stopped when both the unknown man and woman moved, the former shifting his weight so he was ready to react quickly and the latter stepping forwards.  
  
"That's close enough," the woman ordered.  
  
"And who are you?" Sam demanded.  
  
"That's not important right now."  
  
"Deirdre? Deirdre Winchester, is that you?" Samuel questioned in disbelief.  
  
"What?" Sam demanded, stunned.  
  
"That's your aunt, your father's sister, I recognize her now from when she was younger than you."  
  
Dean sighed loudly and glanced upwards as if asking for help before he pushed off the Impala and stepped forwards. Castiel, as usual, shadowed his movements and, if Sam didn't know any better, he'd say that the angel was pressed right up against his brother when Dean came to a halt. From where he was standing, it looked like there was absolutely no space between Cas' chest and Dean's back. And really, had his brother  _still_  not managed to explain personal space to Castiel?  
  
"Deirdre Winchester has technically been dead for just over ten months now," Dean informed them.  
  
Dead? Then how was she standing right here, looking remarkably aliv-  
  
Sam's mind ground to a halt as he took another look at his newly discovered aunt and suddenly caught sight of the expression on her face. It was one that he'd seen before, just over a year ago, though on a completely different face. A male face. His half-brother's face.  _No_ , it couldn't be! That was impossible, he'd made sure of it himself with his own two hands. There was no way this could be happening. And yet... the expression was  _exactly_  the same, not similar, but identical, as was the stance his aunt now stood in. Not to mention the way she was watching him expectantly.  
  
"No, impossible!" Sam finally found his voice again. "That's just not possible!"  
  
"Sam?" Bobby inquired.  
  
"I locked you up!"  
  
"What? Like you locked yourself up? Or Adam?" Deirdre shot back. "Because that obviously worked so well in those cases too."  
  
"But- no, Jesus."  
  
"Don't blaspheme," the order came at him from two different directions at once and Sam couldn't help but take a step back.  
  
Although he had never particularly thought of Castiel as fierce some or worth being afraid of, Sam found that he was rapidly rethinking that assessment as the look the angel was now throwing at him was all of the above. Then, of course, there was Michael, if what his aunt said was to be believed. Given Dean's complete lack of interruptions, he had no choice but to think that it was.  
  
"What is it?" Samuel demanded, stepping up to stand beside him. "What is she?"  
  
A bit further to the right, Christian also took a step forward and he didn't need to be able to see Gwen and Mark to know that they were tensing as well. They'd all worked too well as a team for months for him to not know how they'd react. Despite his shock, Sam didn't miss the way his brother's eyes swept their line, most likely noting everything he already knew and assessing their strengths and weaknesses. It was one of Dean's talents, the ability to take in people at a glance and deduce a fairly accurate guesstimate of who they were and what they were capable of. Though he didn't show it, Sam knew that Dean must be worried right about now as they didn't really have a weakness, not as a team. They were a well-oiled unit of five that compensated for any individual weaknesses and Bobby's presence only gave them more strength.  
  
"An angel," Sam finally replied. "Or an archangel, more like."  
  
"Michael?!" Bobby's voice was full of the disbelief and astonishment that Sam himself felt.  
  
"In the flesh," Dean stated then paused. "Well, so to speak anyway."  
  
"Michael the archangel?" Christian questioned. "Didn't you lock him away, Sam?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Then how?"  
  
"That's a very good question."  
  
"With a very simple answer," Michael stated. "My brother's cage was only ever meant to hold one angel, not two. The moment Sam decided to pull me into it along with Lucifer, he doomed Gabriel's plan to fail."  
  
"Wait, go back for a second," Bobby interrupted. "Adam's out as well?"  
  
"Yes, his soul has returned to Heaven," Castiel informed him.  
  
Sam felt a pang of guilt not only at the fact that he'd almost completely missed the reference to his half-brother, but that he'd not really thought of Adam at all since he'd gotten free from Hell. What did it say about him that he'd forgotten about him so easily despite knowing what the poor kid was going through because he'd been stupid enough to say yes to Michael?  
  
"What exactly do you mean when you say that Sam doomed Gabriel's plan to fail?" Samuel demanded. "He succeeded in locking up Lucifer."  
  
"No, Sam managed to do so temporarily," Dean corrected. "By trying to lock up Michael as well, he made the whole cage unstable so that in the end everyone in it, Sam, Adam, Michael and Lucifer, would get out."  
  
Sam froze at the words. No, that wasn't possible! That  _couldn't_  be possible! That would mean that the Apocalypse wasn't over as he'd thought it was. That meant that all that he'd suffered, all that he'd gone through, had been for nothing! Unable to stop it, images from his time as Lucifer's vessel, of attacking and killing his friends and trying to do the same to his brother flashed across his mind. They were followed swiftly by memories of what had happened down in Hell on that handful of occasions that Lucifer had halted his fighting with Michael long enough to focus on him. Given that he'd been there two and a half long years, he knew it could have been worse, but it had been the devil himself who'd taken out his anger on him, so he felt it was comparable to having been tortured nonstop for far longer.  
  
"How long do we have?" Bobby asked. "How long until Lucifer gets out?"  
  
"He already is," Michael stated.  
  
" _What?_ " Sam exclaimed.  
  
"Lucy got out a while ago," Dean said.  
  
"If he's out then why haven't we heard of anything?" Christian demanded.  
  
"What? You mean besides the sharp rise in aberrant behavior from all things supernatural?"  
  
"That started ages ago."  
  
"Yeah, in preparation for Lucy's return."  
  
"Why didn't you tell us?" Sam cut in, looking at his brother in betrayal. "You have to have known about this for a while, why didn't you tell us?"  
  
"What? Like you told me about your escape from Hell?" Dean shot back.  
  
"That's different! You were with Lisa and Ben, living a normal life. You had everything you ever wanted or dreamed of having."  
  
"I wanted my brother back! I wanted to know that you were safe and not rotting in Hell, completely at Lucifer's mercy."  
  
"Dean, I..."  
  
"We were trying to do what was best for you, Dean," Bobby added.  
  
The laughter that escaped Dean's mouth was so harsh and bitter that Sam shivered and, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bobby take a step back. "What was best for me?" Dean spat. "More like what you wanted without a single thought as to what I might want!"  
  
"No, Dean," Bobby denied, horrified. "We really were thinking of you."  
  
Dean snorted and looked away. Before Sam could say anything else, Castiel shifted and moved around his brother to face the two of them. The expression on his face was ferocious and he once again wondered how he could ever have thought the angel harmless.  
  
"You wouldn't even dare make such a claim if you'd seen the state in which I found him," Castiel thundered. "He was pushing himself trying to find a way to save you, Sam, not eat-"  
  
"Whoa! Cas, stop!" Dean exclaimed.  
  
Sam could only watch in disbelief as his brother stepped close to the angel, completely ignoring his personal space, and wrapped an arm around his chest from behind as if to restrain him from smiting Bobby and himself. It was startling to think that Castiel just might have been prepared to do exactly that. What the hell had happened to him being seen as a friend by the angel? Yes, he'd always known that Castiel preferred Dean to him, but he'd felt pretty sure that the angel liked him as well by the end there. Had all of that just suddenly disappeared? Despite his preoccupation, some part of his mind noted that while Dean had felt no hesitation in physically restraining the angel, he hadn't stepped alongside or in front of him. Since when did his brother voluntarily stand behind a protective stance meant to defend him?  
  
Castiel half turned to look at Dean and there they went again, staring at each other like there was no one else around. Oddly, Sam found it a comfort to see that some things at least hadn't changed as it seemed like almost everything else had.  
  



	31. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean still thinks Castiel's idea is a really bad one.

**PAST**  
  
  
"So, now what?" Dean questioned, looking between the two angels.  
  
Well, archangels, technically. It was odd, but Dean had gotten so used to thinking of Cas as his angel that he still thought of him as that despite Castiel's promotion. It was probably easier to continue to do so if Michael was going to be about, it was a way to keep everything straight in his head. Not that he was ever likely to mistake the douchebag for his lover, but still.  
  
"Do you have somewhere to stay?" Castiel asked his brother.  
  
"Where do you spend your time?" Michael replied.  
  
"That depends on what I am doing, but generally I am either in Heaven or with Dean. And no, I am not leaving you alone with him."  
  
"Hell no," Dean confirmed. "There's no way I'm letting you anywhere near me when I'm sleeping."  
  
"You do not trust me to honor my word," Michael realized, offended.  
  
Dean snorted. "I'm not even going to deign that with an answer."  
  
"You trust Castiel."  
  
"Because he earned it, he proved that I can trust him, you haven't."  
  
"I have never lied to you."  
  
"No, you just tried to manipulate me into doing something I didn't want to, which proved you have absolutely no regard for human interests, not to mention everything you let Zachariah do in your name."  
  
"Just accept his decision, Michael," Castiel recommended. "Pushing him will win you no favors."  
  
"Fine."  
  
"We need to get you a cell phone."  
  
"A what?"  
  
"I'll see to it," Dean offered, earning himself a quick touch to his shoulder from his lover.  
  
"What is a cell phone?"  
  
"It is a communications device," Castiel explained. "It will allow you and Dean to contact each other."  
  
"Dean does not need any such device to contact me."  
  
"What?" Dean questioned.  
  
"You are my vessel," Michael stated. "All you need to do is think of or concentrate on me and say my name and I shall be aware of it."  
  
"Even with the sigils Cas gave me?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"The bond between a vessel and his or her angel is a powerful connection," Castiel explained. "And the power of the sigils lies, as most angelic powers, in consent. They will hide you from all angels in existence, including the one with whom you have an angel-vessel bond, unless you do not want them to."  
  
"So this would reveal my location to him?" Dean inquired.  
  
"Yes, it would."  
  
"Okay, that's good to know, but that doesn't help us if I simply want to convey some information without revealing my location. Nor does it let Michael contact me, unless this bond works both ways?"  
  
Dean really didn't like the idea of being connected to Michael in any way whatsoever but realized that fighting this particular issue was a useless battle. He was an angelic vessel-  _Michael's vessel_ \- that was a fact and it was senseless to fight that. No, what he could do something about was keeping said angel out of his body. Just because he physically was a vessel didn't mean that he had to allow himself to fulfil that destiny. In fact, he had quite a distaste for letting any destiny come to pass as he hated the very idea of such a predetermined path for anyone, let alone himself.  
  
"No, it does not," Michael informed him.  
  
"Well, in that case, a cell phone it is. I'll get you one, program my number into it and show you how to use it."  
  
Michael gave a curt nod to show he'd heard and Dean figured that was all he was going to get. He really didn't know what the archangel was even doing here since he clearly disliked humans in general and him in particular. Or, more likely, needing to interact with him as his own person instead of simply possessing him and doing whatever he wished with his meatsuit.  
  
"You guys can talk to each at will, right?" Dean checked.  
  
"Yes, we can," Castiel confirmed. "Which brings us back to my initial question, do you have somewhere to stay, Michael?"  
  
"Yes, though I would like to come home at some point."  
  
Dean had to still the impulse to let Michael have another burst of the Jewel of Abel at that response. The need to help protect his lover and his work was so great and was something he generally never felt he'd be able to do. This exact scenario had been something he'd feared since Castiel had first said that most of the angels in Heaven had been kept in the dark about Michael, Raphael and Zachariah's endgame and were against it. It was easy to say something like that, but a lot harder to follow through on it. Now that their old general was back, would the angels still follow Cas and stick with all of the reforms his lover had implemented or would they abandon him in favor of kissing up to the old boss?  
  
"Perhaps later," Castiel offered.  
  
The reply obviously grated on Michael and Dean was beginning to think that there might be some upsides to Castiel's idea. The chance to have the old head of the archangels forced to accept conditions placed upon him by someone who had once been so far beneath him that he wasn't even sure if Michael had known who Cas was. Given the sheer number of angels, it really wouldn't surprise him, but he loved the irony nonetheless. Perhaps God did have a sense of humor after all.  
  
"Very well," Michael said as ungracefully as before. "I shall see you later."  
  
With that and a flutter of wings, Dean and Castiel were suddenly alone. The relief he felt was nearly overwhelming and Dean had to force himself not to relax too much in case this was just a ploy.  
  
"Cas?"  
  
"He is gone for now, but I would feel better if you would let me take you somewhere else."  
  
"Let me get my things together."  
  
Dean tried to tone down his mood as he threw his things into his duffel and let Castiel zap them to a new location, he really did, but dammit, this was Michael they were talking about here! The king douchebag himself as far as he was concerned. Were they really to believe that he'd started to see the error of his ways because Daddy had proved that he liked one of the other kiddies better than him? He didn't quite buy that. He'd be the first to admit that he didn't know Michael all that well, hell, he could count the number of times he'd met the guy on one hand, but it just didn't ring true with the archangel he'd seen on those few times.  
  
That said, however, he'd seen how greatly God's opinion and good grace had affected Castiel, so perhaps it was the same for Michael? Dean knew well how much a father's regard could be worth, but he was a bit afraid that his own experience was coloring his opinion now and he was afraid of the possible consequences. They, Cas and himself, were really down to the wire here. Yes, they had the angels in Heaven that his lover believed to be with them, but that was it. They had no allies on Earth that they could truly trust, so they couldn't afford to make many mistakes here, even if they had more time now then they'd thought they did. It was entirely possible that Michael could be as dangerous to them as Lucifer and he really didn't want to have to fight two archangels, let alone at once.  
  
"What was that, Cas?" Dean finally demanded, unable to hold it in anymore.  
  
"He seemed sincere in his desire to learn why Father had punished him."  
  
"Because he'd been a dick, that's why."  
  
"Dean, this is Michael we are talking about, Father's hammer as it were. For him to admit that he might have been wrong is a very significant step."  
  
"But that's just it, he  _hasn't_  admitted that he was wrong. He was just whining that Daddy doesn't like him best anymore."  
  
"Be that as it may, this is an unprecedented opportunity, Dean."  
  
"For what?"  
  
"To bring him around to our point of view," Castiel replied. "Can you imagine if he were to be on our side instead of against us?"  
  
"You really think that's possible?"  
  
"You convinced me. We are in the right here, Dean, Father has already made that very clear, now we just need to prove it to Michael."  
  
Dean regarded his lover, still not entirely convinced but seeing that Castiel sincerely thought that they stood a chance at succeeding in this. And the benefits to them, if he was right, were staggering.  
  
"Fine, but we need to tread very carefully here."  
  
"Agreed, though Michael can prove to be an invaluable ally, he is also not to be underestimated."  
  
With a loud sigh, Dean dropped onto the bed of the motel room he was now in. He knew he'd have to go officially check-in, but he couldn't be bothered to right now. With a little concentration, he got the Jewel of Abel to deactivate and release his wrist. He pulled it off and threw it at the head of the bed so he'd not forget to put underneath the pillow with his gun later.  
  
"Why can't we just get some good news without any strings attached?" Dean asked.  
  
"I do not know," Castiel replied as he sat next to him.  
  
Dean rubbed his face, only just realizing that he'd forgotten his dinner in the last motel. He considered asking Castiel to go back and get it but figured it wasn't worth it in case Michael was being less than honest with them.  
  
"What happened, Cas? Do you think Michael was being honest with how he got out?"  
  
"I cannot think how else he might have gotten out and it does make some sense."  
  
"And it gives us some more time, so I guess we can't really complain."  
  
Castiel reached out for him hesitantly, as if unsure of his reception and Dean leaned into him, resting his head in the crook of his angel's neck. It was the first time his lover had shown an inclination to offer touch as a comfort and he wanted to encourage that. Cas' hand ran slowly up and down his back, apparently not quite sure of what else to do.  
  
"Cas?"  
  
"Yes, Dean?"  
  
"Where are we?"  
  
"Oregon."  
  
"Oregon?"  
  
"Is that bad?"  
  
"No, no, I'm just a little surprised is all."  
  
"Were you done with your case?"  
  
"Yeah, was just gonna look for a new one, which I can do just as easily here as there."  
  
"We may need to focus on the situation with Michael instead."  
  
"Trust me, you want me handling with a regular case before dealing with your brother again or the results will not be pretty."  
  
"You are stressed."  
  
"Yeah, no kidding."  
  
Just by chance, Castiel's fingers hit a knot and his probing touch, most likely as he tried to figure out what it was, was enough to make him moan. "Do that again."  
  
"This is not supposed to be there," Castiel stated as he complied.  
  
"No, it's a knot, 's caused by stress."  
  
"How do you get rid of it?"  
  
The angel's intense focus on his body's comfort and anything that could cause unwelcome changes to it was a little freaky, but Dean couldn't bring himself to care. Not when it led to offers like this.  
  
"Well, either you get away from the stressor or you can get a massage."  
  
"What is a massage and where do you get one?"  
  
"Wherever you find someone willing to give one. There are places that specialize in it, but anyone can give a basic massage."  
  
"Tell me what I must do."  
  
Dean smiled at his lover, pulling back enough so he could pull off his shirts, dropping them carelessly on the ground. He noted how Castiel's eyes roamed over his chest and promised himself he'd indulge his lover later. But first, he'd let the angel pamper him a little, he figured he'd deserved it and if Castiel wanted to do it, then who was he to refuse?  
  
"Turn a little, so you're facing me head on," Dean instructed and turned his back on him. "Okay, now put your hands on my shoulders, thumbs facing down. Can you feel the knot?"  
  
"Yes and several more."  
  
"Yeah, I'm not surprised. Now, the idea of a massage is to work those knots out with pressure, kneading the muscles."  
  
"Will that not hurt?"  
  
"Yeah, but it'll also be a huge relief. Trust me, it feels great."  
  
"How much pressure do I use?"  
  
"Start with what you did earlier and work your way up, I'll let you know when it's good."  
  
"Just with my thumbs?"  
  
"At the start, yes, but then if you want to keep at it and move down my back, you can use your other fingers."  
  
Although tentative at first, Castiel quickly got the hang of it and soon Dean was reduced to a moaning mass of quivering muscles. His lover was as good at this as he'd hoped, his drive and focus more then making up for his lack of experience. By the end of it, he was more relaxed then he could remember being in a long time and he slumped bonelessly back onto the bed.  
  
"Thanks, Cas."  
  
"Do you feel better?"  
  
"Yeah," Dean looked up at his lover through half-lidded eyes, before reaching out and grabbing hold of his tie. "Come 'ere."


	32. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Castiel meet with Michael to discuss the Apocalypse.

**PAST**  
  
  
When the world reformed around them, Dean found himself standing within view of a roadside diner situated on the edge of a familiar looking cliff overlooking the ocean. It took him a few moments to realize that it was the same location as the shack at which he'd had the best burger ever years ago with his father and brother on the way to a hunt in the North. The shack itself was no longer there but from the smell wafting his way, it seemed like the same people still ran the new place. His mouth instantly watered as it remembered the burger and he couldn't help but smile at his lover.  
  
"This is your idea of a neutral meeting place?" Dean asked.  
  
"It is one of the places you have the best food memories of and Michael already knows about this via Zachariah, so I figured it was as good a place as any other," Castiel replied simply. "It also has the added advantage that it won't allow him to deduce anything from our choice of location that we don't want him to."  
  
"I'm not complaining, I was just making an observation."  
  
Not seeing any reason to wait, Dean approached the entrance to the diner. Stepping inside, he took a deep breath and was nearly drooling at the wonderful smell. Oh, this meeting was looking better and better and he wondered if the knowledge that he'd think so had influenced Castiel's decision to choose this location. He wouldn't put it past his lover.  
  
"Do you want a burger?" Dean asked.  
  
He was pleasantly surprised when his angel actually seemed to consider the offer for a moment before shaking his head. "No, I think it is too soon for me to try another hamburger."  
  
"Fair enough, anything else?"  
  
"No. I shall get us a table outside."  
  
"Okay."  
  
Dean briefly glanced at the menu before deciding to get the same he'd gotten the last time with chilli cheese fries and a soda. Though he wanted a beer, he figured it was probably best to be fully alert while around Michael. Besides, these places tended to have crappy bear anyway, not that anything he got wasn't going to be crappy after the bottle Castiel had gotten him the other day. It had been something unpronounceable straight from Germany, but damn had it been good! Like Heaven in a bottle, though he'd wisely kept that particular opinion to himself.  
  
The thought of his lover made him smile and Dean couldn't help but think of the tube of lube he'd gotten two weeks ago. Perhaps it was time to move things up to the next level. Castiel definitely seemed comfortable with what they were doing now and he really wanted to have his lover properly much as he enjoyed the hand and blowjobs they'd been exchanging. It just wasn't the same as sinking into warm heat and being inside his lover. The thought nearly made him moan and he had to force his voice to come out normally when it was his turn to order. He was also thankful of the cover of the counter and tried to think distasteful thoughts as the last thing he wanted to do was face Michael with a hard-on for his little brother.  _That_  could well get him smited on the spot.  
  
"Thanks," Dean said once he'd paid for and gotten his food.  
  
He took his tray outside and quickly spotted his lover and Michael sitting at a table near the cliff's edge, well away from any prying ears. He approached them and put his tray down beside Castiel and across from the archangel before taking a seat.  
  
"This is not a nutritious meal," Michael stated as he watched him unwrap his burger.  
  
"No shit, Sherlock," Dean shot back.  
  
He was damned if he was going to take food advice from this particular angel. The only one who got any say in what he ate was Castiel and even he was normally ignored if it came to expressing disapproval over his choices. His lover had been quick on the uptake as ever and had started pushing more healthy side dishes or fruit onto him instead.  
  
"Why would you ingest something so obviously bad for you?" Michael asked.  
  
"Because it tastes good."  
  
"But-"  
  
"Look, you don't get any say in what I choose to eat, it's my body, not yours," Dean stated pointedly before biting down and chewing with his mouth open. "Mmm."  
  
Michael threw him a disgusted look before glancing at his brother. "How do you put up with him on a regular basis?"  
  
"By not deliberately provoking him," Castiel replied.  
  
Then, as if to add further insult to the whole incident, his lover reached over and snagged a fry from his tray. Dean swallowed and smiled at Castiel, watching him as he tried it. "Well?"  
  
"It is different again from a hamburger and-"  
  
"Good different or bad different?" Dean rushed to ask.  
  
He didn't want to take the chance that the next word out of his angel's mouth might be semen instead of beer or whiskey. Not that he thought Michael would look particularly kindly on him for having introduced his younger brother to either of those either.  
  
"A good different."  
  
"Ah, good."  
  
The look in Castiel's eyes wasn't lost on him and Dean knew his lover was aware of what he'd been thinking. As if to prove his reply, his angel stole another fry from him and he pushed the flimsy cardboard box closer to the edge of his tray for easier access. It had been a long time since someone had tried to share his food, but he was surprisingly okay with it in this instance, unlike back when Sam had used to try it before he'd gone on his health food kick. Then again, the sasquatch had gone through food like nobody's business when his growth spurt finally hit and it had been all he could do to get his fair share of whatever they bought, so that could have been part of it.  
  
"Was there a reason you called me here?" Michael questioned.  
  
The archangel's tone was annoyed and, yeah, Dean could definitely see himself picking up the game of 'how could he annoy Michael the most' if the douchebag kept up with this attitude.  
  
"Yeah, Lucy's cage."  
  
"What about it?"  
  
"Everything."  
  
"Is there a way to fix it?" Castiel clarified. "To ensure that he doesn't get out."  
  
"No. If I had been able to get at it when it first started becoming unstable and we'd been able to pull the second angel trapped within out, then I might have been able to fix it, but not now. It is too far gone for repairs at this point."  
  
"Can't you just build another cage around it?" Dean asked.  
  
"No."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
If Michael had been human, Dean would say that he was uncomfortable now, but surely he couldn't be, could he?  
  
"I do not know how to," Michael finally stated, not meeting their eyes.  
  
"Bullshit."  
  
"There is no need for profanity."  
  
"Oh, trust me, you ain't seen nothing yet," Dean stated.  
  
"How can you not know how?" Castiel asked.  
  
"Because Father helped me the last time, so while I know how to construct parts of the cage, I cannot make a completely new one on my own."  
  
"And Father isn't answering any of your prayers either?"  
  
"No."  
  
"That figures," Dean muttered. "So now what? We just continue on as we were before Mikey popped out?"  
  
The latter was addressed to Castiel, but Dean kept a close watch on Michael out of the corner of his eye. As expected, a dark expression crossed the archangel's face. Bingo.  
  
"Yes," Castiel confirmed.  
  
"You learn any more about those misplaced books?"  
  
"No."  
  
"What books?" Michael questioned.  
  
Dean let his lover explain the situation to his brother and was interested to note that the archangel hadn't been aware of them either. Well, based on the angered expression that crossed his face anyway. Though, now that he thought about it, he couldn't picture Michael having acted the way that he had if he'd known that there would a false end to the Apocalypse. It had simply cost him too much to do so. Not only had he spent time in Hell with his brother, locked in a cage he'd helped build, but he had, essentially, lost control of Heaven at the same time.  
  
"This must have happened a long time ago," Michael stated once he'd been caught up.  
  
"Why?" Castiel questioned.  
  
"Because Raphael and I went through all of the prophecies on the Apocalypse back when the Cupids brought together Mary Campbell and John Winchester and those were not among the material we looked at."  
  
"Wait, you had already decided to do this back then?" Dean demanded, furious.  
  
He wasn't sure why, but he'd always suspected that the idea to jumpstart the Apocalypse had been more of a spur of the moment thing. Something that they hadn't fully thought through as it seemed so outrageous to him and surely if  _he_  thought God couldn't possibly be okay with it, then two archangels of all things should have known that.  
  
"It was the prophesized joining of the bloodlines," Michael replied. "The final act necessary to produce yourself and Sam. We knew that the time was near and decided it was better if we controlled the when and how in order to prevent Lucifer from destroying the Earth."  
  
"Bang up job with that by the way."  
  
 _That_  turned Michael's face ugly. "We had everything planned out so he would be defeated moments after coming out of his cage. It is because of the two of you that things have gone so awry."  
  
Oh no he didn't. Michael could blame him all that he wanted, Dean didn't give a rat's ass about that, but there was absolutely no way he was laying any of the blame for this on Castiel. His lover had sacrificed everything he had and very nearly everything that he was to do the right thing and he wasn't letting anyone, and most especially not Cas' brother, criticize him for that.  
  
"Now listen here you no good son of a bi-"  
  
"Dean."  
  
His name was accompanied by a hand on his forearm and Dean bit back the rest of what he was going to say and turned to look at his lover.  
  
"Please," Castiel said.  
  
Dean fought down his temper with an effort and settled back down on the bench, only just aware that he'd been rising from his seat in the first place. With a curt nod, he turned his attention back to what was left of his food. He could feel Michael's eyes on him but tried to ignore it as he knew he'd be unable to control himself if he thought about it too much. On some level his compliance grated, but the rest of him knew that part of being in a relationship was giving his lover what he wanted and Cas asked so little of him. Besides, it was good for Michael to see that he could do what was asked of him as long as he wasn't treated like some disposable pawn.  
  
"So then I assume that you do not know who might have misplaced the books or why?" Castiel checked.  
  
"No," Michael replied.   
  
"It sounds like it was more than mere coincidence that this happened," Dean commented.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Well, don't you think it's odd that they were removed from the rest of the books so far in advance? Before you and Raphael could have found them? And that they just happened to turn up after everything in them had already come to pass? Or that the book or books that contain prophecies of what is still to come are still missing?"  
  
There was a moment of silence and Dean knew he'd hit on something neither archangel had thought about yet. Maybe they just hadn't wanted to see it. The implication, after all, wouldn't be pleasant for them.  
  
"What are you saying?" Michael questioned, tone oddly strained. "Are you implying that Father may have had a hand in this?"  
  
"I'm not implying anything. I'm just pointing out that that's a lot of coincidences and I have a hard time believing in them at the best of times."  
  
"It is an interesting question," Castiel said. "Who would have known to hide them from yourself and Raphael?"  
  
"No one," Michael replied, looking like what Dean had come to learn was uncomfortable for angels. "We did not tell anyone of our plans or intentions until later."  
  
"It does sound like there may have been a greater plan at work here," Castiel finally suggested. "And that could only mean Father."  
  
For beings who normally displayed very little emotion, Dean was picking up a ton of cues just now. Or was that more due to his increased ability to read and understand the ones the angels did give off? Either way, the air seemed fraught with tension just now and he instinctively wanted to comfort his lover, knowing how sensitive the topic of his father still was to him despite the obvious approval he'd gotten.  
  
"Has He spoken with you?" Michael demanded.  
  
"Who, Father?" Castiel replied, looking at Dean. "No, not to me."  
  
"He spoke to you?" Michael questioned in disbelief, turning his attention to Dean.  
  
"Only indirectly."  
  
"How?"  
  
"He had Joshua relay a message to Sam and me when we were in Heaven."  
  
Since he knew what the next question would be, Dean decided to save them the time and just told him. Michael looked as stricken as Castiel had upon first hearing those same words. He reached out and squeezed his angel's arm, trying to provide him with some measure of comfort.  
  
"Is Father still talking to Joshua?" Michael asked.  
  
"No," Castiel replied. "It was one of the first things I checked when returning to Heaven."  
  
The uneasy silence that fell over the table made Dean want to start shifting. He hated moments like these and they made him want to open his mouth and make some sort of smart remark, something he didn't think either angel would thank him for. Besides, he'd had far too much experience with these types of emotions and frustrations about his own father for him to be able to make fun of them. The slight bulge in his pocket, though, reminded him of the cell phone he'd picked up for Michael and it seemed like just the thing to break the silence before things became any more emo then they already were.


	33. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not how Dean planned it, but he's never been big on romantic gestures anyway.

**PAST**  
  
  
Dean groaned as Castiel licked his cock from base to tip even as he tried to figure out how they had ended up here. He'd been trying to plan this evening for some time now, completely unable to make up his mind on how to go about it, discarding each idea as either too chick flick like or as something his angel just wouldn't get. His lover, however, had clearly had other plans, ambushing him as he came out of the shower after a successful if disgusting hunt. It wasn't the first time he'd noticed his angel's fascination with water on his skin. He really should pull him into the shower once.  
  
"You're thinking too much," Castiel complained, somehow managing to look put out.  
  
"Only about you," Dean told him.  
  
That was something else he'd discovered about his lover, he liked it when Dean mentioned having thought about him in a sexual sense. He pulled Castiel up his body so he could get at his mouth, rolling them as they kissed. The feel and sound of his angel beneath him made him come to a decision. Screw the larger romantic gestures, they weren't really him anyway and Cas had never given any indication that he desired any of that either. Instead the angel seemed to prefer ambushing him at odd times and not always when they were entirely in private, though he strongly suspected Castiel now kept a careful angelic eye out for anyone who could interrupt them.  
  
He always figured it was the way it was done rather than any superficial events surrounding it that really counted anyway. Dean moved down Castiel's neck and sucked a hickey at the base of his throat, causing his lover to moan and bring a hand up to the back of his head. He soothed the spot with his tongue before pulling back. He noted that the bruise didn't immediately fade which meant his lover was purposefully preventing it from healing. The realization made him groan and buck against Castiel.  
  
"Cas."  
  
"Yes, Dean?"  
  
"Would you like to try something new?"  
  
"Yes, anything."  
  
"No, this is different, more."  
  
Castiel stopped trying to pull him back into a kiss to properly look at him. "You mean penetration."  
  
What did it say about him that his lover's way of phrasing things no longer even phased him, even in a sexual setting? "Yeah, I'm talking about penetration."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Are you sure? This is different from anything we've done before."  
  
"Dean?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"I want you to fuck me."  
  
Dean bucked against his lover involuntarily and a strangled moan escaped him. The angel had discovered his like of dirty talk recently and had been making full use of it ever since. He didn't know what it was, but there was something so  _dirty_  and  _wrong_  about those types of words coming from Castiel's mouth that he couldn't get enough of. He reached into the drawer of the nightstand for the tube of lube he'd put there upon arrival at the motel.  
  
"Okay, but you need to tell me if it hurts or you want me to stop."  
  
"I will."  
  
"Lube," Dean explained as he squeezed some onto his hand to warm it, very aware of his lover watching his every move. "Normally I'd use condoms as well, but that's not necessary now."  
  
"Condoms?"  
  
"Protection."  
  
"Against what?"  
  
"Pregnancy with women and STDs with both genders," Dean explained, using the topic to push himself back from the brink a bit so this wouldn't be over too fast. "Sexually transmitted diseases, but I'm clean and for you it probably doesn't matter."  
  
"No."  
  
Clearly impatient, his lover pulled him down and Dean went willingly, plundering that wonderful mouth. As expected, Castiel's tongue came up to challenge his and he slowly reached down, stroking his lover's balls. Then he reached behind them, stroking the sensitive skin there and making his angel buck up and writhe beneath him. He almost had to stop as the wonderful sensations were threatening to make him come far too soon, but managed to persevere. His finger then moved further back and into new territory for his lover, but if it bothered Castiel at all, he didn't let it show, spreading his legs instead for easier access.  
  
Dean slid down his angel's body a little so he could focus his attention on his nipples and make it easier to reach Castiel's opening, circling his finger around it before he pushed the tip inside, breaching the ring of muscles. Cas gasped, hands coming up to clutch at him and he waited, continue to lave attention on his nipples until he felt the angel relax beneath him once more. Slowly, gently, he worked his finger inside until it was sliding easily in and out and his lover was completely relaxed, head thrown back and making wonderful little noises. He used the opportunity to introduce a second finger, at first just sliding them both in and out before he started scissoring them to begin working Castiel open for him in earnest.  
  
The first time Dean brushed his angel's prostate, the resulting bucking movement of Cas' hips was so strong he was nearly dislodged from atop him. Though it surprised him, he laughed.  
  
"Like that, huh?"  
  
"Dean! More, please, again!"  
  
The lack of control turned Dean on in a way he'd never imagined it could.  _He_  was the one that was the one that was doing this to his lover! He was the one to give him so much pleasure that he forgot to be careful and was losing control. Gladly, he brushed the angel's prostate again and again and again until he'd worked three fingers inside and was easily sliding them in and out.  
  
"Dean," Castiel gasped. "Dean!"  
  
"You ready for more?"  
  
"Yes, now!"  
  
The command sent a thrill through him and shit, Dean was discovering kinks he never knew he had. But he was damned if he could resist an order issued to him in such a pleasure soaked and gravelly voice. Especially from someone he cared about so deeply. Quickly he lubed himself up, briefly squeezing the base of his cock to pull him further from the edge before he lifted one of Cas' legs onto his shoulder and brushed the head of his cock against his lover's entrance. The move had both of them groaning even before he slowly started pushing his way inside. The heat and tightness was incredible and it was all he could do not to bury himself in it to the hilt in a single quick thrust, but somehow he managed.  
  
Finally fully sheathed, Dean rested his head on Castiel's shoulder, fighting off the urge to just come right then and there or to start thrusting immediately. His lover was breathing hard, emitting tiny little gasps that were a mix of pleasure and wonder at the new sensations. Then the muscles around his cock were clamping down on him and he bit the skin he'd started sucking on and moaned.  
  
"Cas!"  
  
"Move."  
  
Dean didn't need to be told twice and started to pull back before gently thrusting forward once more. He set a slow, steady rhythm until Castiel started meeting him, thrust for thrust and they picked up the pace, his lover pulling him down into a heated and dirty kiss while telling him to move harder and faster. He responded immediately and soon he was thrusting hard enough to make a human feel it for a week, but Cas wasn't human. The thought caused his breath to catch and he pulled up far enough to his lover's face. Their eyes met and held until he reached down between them to fist Castiel's cock and then his lover was coming, his expression an amazing mixture of sheer bliss, wonder and something he couldn't quite identify.  
  
Then the clenching muscles around him pulled his own orgasm from him and Dean followed Castiel over the edge.  
  


* * *

  
Castiel came back to himself in time to see his mate orgasm and he found himself completely unable to look away. Dean was always beautiful, but when he was like this, so completely uninhibited, his face showing all that he felt, he was even more breathtaking. Despite that, he found himself distracted by the pulsing of his mate's cock deep within him and the feeling of Dean's seed spilling inside of him. He groaned at the new sensations and his eyes fell shut as the pleasure washed over him.  
  
It all felt so incredible that Castiel was content to just bask in the wonderful afterglow. He was less pleased when Dean shifted and slipped out of him, the loss of contact coming far too soon. Instead, he cleaned his own seed from himself with a twist of his Grace and pulled his mate down onto him. Dean came willingly and hummed in satisfaction when he wrapped his arms and wings around him, though he knew his mate couldn't feel the latter. He loved how pliant his hunter was after sex, muscles loose and mind at peace for once, basking in the pleasure they'd shared and the continued connection between them where warm skin melded with warm skin.  
  
As Dean normally drifted off into a contented sleep, Castiel had often wished that he could keep his mate like that, so relaxed and happy without a single worry marring his peace. It also hadn't escaped his notice that whenever he held Dean in his arms while the hunter slept, that Dean didn't have any nightmares. He knew it wasn't that the nightmares had gone away, as he still arrived to find his mate in the middle of them when he came at night, and was pleased with what that meant. In addition to feeling safe with him, Dean found his presence soothing on a very deep level.  
  
Not only was that good in its own right, but it meant that Castiel was free to just observe and enjoy having his mate so close instead of needing to actively soothe Dean's mind from whatever horrors it like to conjure or relive at night. Just the feel of his mate's sleep warm skin against his own was still a miracle he thanked his Father for every time he was able to simply enjoy it. Then there was the peaceful expression on his face and the way Dean liked to press as close to him as possible, snuggling he believed humans called it though his hunter had vehemently denied it the one time he'd mentioned it. The nature of his mate's protestations, however, and the slight color that had tinged Dean's cheeks had told him all he needed to know about the accuracy of his thoughts.  
  
Castiel found Dean's need to deny the truth at times both perplexing and endearing. Abstractly, he understood humans didn't feel comfortable sharing everything about themselves with others, but the idea of having to feel ashamed about what they felt or liked was entirely alien to him and he found that he couldn't understand it on a more logical level. The notion that there was anything about his mate that he wouldn't like and for which Dean needed to feel bad for would be funny if the hunter didn't believe it so deeply. Instead it saddened him that his mate thought that he needed to pretend that he didn't want more physical contact and comfort.  
  
It had taken him a while, but Castiel had noticed how much a simple touch could soothe and comfort his mate and had taken to touching Dean more often. Not only did the hunter seem to enjoy it, but it also served to help satisfy his own desire to be as close to his mate as possible. It had been a long time since Dean had said anything about personal space, though he had made sure to keep what humans seemed to consider a normal distance between them when in public.  
  
The rumbling of Dean's stomach had Castiel glancing at his mate with a smile only to find his mate watching him. His eyes were half-lidded and he seemed to be more asleep than awake, but Dean was definitely watching him.  
  
"That was amazing," Castiel said, having heard the word used in this context during an episode of Dr. Sexy he'd found Dean watching last week.  
  
The fact that none of the characters had used 'good' or 'liked very much' or even anything like those words and had instead said things like 'amazing,' 'awesome,' and 'wonderful' had made Castiel worry that he might have unintentionally insulted his mate before, but Dean had never seemed offended. The smile he got now, though, proved to him that Dean had noticed and appreciated the difference. It was a beautiful smile, wide and open without any of that edge Dean's smile had contained when he'd heard a woman tell his mate something to this same effect. He wasn't sure what it was, but it had grown when Dean had glanced at his brother and Sam had seemed disgusted, rolling his eyes. It wasn't that he disliked that smile, but he preferred this one. It seemed more honest.  
  
"I'm glad you think so," Dean replied.  
  
Since his mate seemed in no hurry to move, Castiel was unable to resist reaching out and running the back of his hand along Dean's cheek. The hunter's eyes dropped closed and he hummed his appreciation, leaning into the touch.  
  
"Look at me, Dean," Castiel requested, wanting to see his mate's eyes.  
  
Dean obeyed and their gazes locked and held. Castiel could easily spend all day like this if there weren't an Apocalypse, simply looking at his mate, whether it be at his body or his soul.  
  



	34. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For this hunt, Dean plays bait.

**PAST**  
  
  
Dean resisted the urge to scan the sports bar, afraid that he'd blow his cover by appearing far too alert and aware of his surroundings to be just an average Joe. He nearly snorted at the thought, it was ironic that he was here, just over four months after being kicked out of Lisa's, once more attempting to pass for normal in a world he knew only all too well to be filled with the supernatural. At least, he mused, he was able to put some of what he'd learned in Cicero to good use, even if the overall experience had been a complete disaster.  
  
It still hurt for Dean to think about Lisa, Ben and the time he'd spent there. Not only was it yet another failure in an impossibly long list of them, but it had been the shattering of a dream he'd clung to quite desperately. Or no, not a dream, but rather an illusion. He'd deluded himself into thinking that he wanted the normal, apple pie life; that he could be happy like that in order to keep himself going. It had become a light at the end of the tunnel as he'd needed there to be something there seeing how he'd had nothing at the time to cling to.  
  
When the thoughts threatened to turn to the present, Dean did his best to try and shove them aside. His mind, however, refused to cooperate. Now that he'd drawn attention to the fact, he couldn't help but think about what he had now waiting for him at the end of the tunnel.  
  
Nothing.  
  
Now, not only did he not have a dream induced self-delusion, but he also didn't have either Sam or Bobby. Oh, he'd known before that there was always a chance that they wouldn't all make it through the Apocalypse alive and while he'd outright refused to discuss the possibility, it had constantly been on his mind. He'd just always assumed that if he lost either of them, it would be to death, not to betrayal.  
  
The reminder of Sam and Bobby's actions tore through him and it was all that Dean could do to keep his posture open and approachable as he forced down the salad he'd ordered. The creature was quite predictable and liked its victims to be male, twenty-five to forty, health freaks and alone. At least that was the pattern that he could see so far. The creature, or rather creatures he suspected, were also following a nice steady pattern in how they chose their attack towns and the cops would be all over them if they'd even bothered to look at the cases closely, but so far they hadn't. Then again, they hadn't found what he had, a clearing deep in the woods strewn with the chewed bones of a torn apart corpse. As far as the police were concerned, they were still dealing with multiple, simple missing person cases.  
  
The urge to take in his surroundings was back, especially now that Dean was sure he could feel eyes on him, but he resisted the temptation. As soon as he'd realized that playing bait was the best way to track down and kill whatever he was hunting, and he was starting to suspect a pack of skinwalkers, he'd called Castiel in for backup. With his lover covering his back, he knew he was as safe as he could possibly be, but old habits were hard to break, especially ones he'd acquired to help him survive. Thinking of his lover inevitably led back to thoughts of Lisa and the end of the tunnel.  
  
Part of what had hurt so bad with the whole apple pie life fiasco was Lisa kicking him out. That was twice now that he'd been prepared to give himself entirely to someone else and both times they'd flat out rejected him, wanting nothing to do with him in the long run. They'd been happy to be with him for a short while, but as soon as the truth came out, as soon as they got to know the real him, they couldn't end it fast enough. Obviously all he'd been good enough for was sex, short-term, meaningless sex. He really should have clued in with Lisa's relatively unwelcome greeting that first time he'd gone back to see her, just before Ben had been taken by the changelings. But, instead, he'd been blind to it, willing himself to ignore it and what it meant. He was good at that. At least Cas wanted him for more than just the sex.  
  
The thought made him think of the tunnel again and it was all that Dean could do to keep his composure and keep up the facade. The eyes had been trained on him for a while now, far longer then mere curiosity would justify, so he was pretty sure that this was one of the creatures he was after, studying him. Despite that, his thoughts still drifted. Yeah, Castiel was clearly into more than just the sex, but for how long? Until they dealt with the Apocalypse once and for all and the time came for him to go back to Heaven, or would the angel end it before that? He really hoped not, but if it was the former, he almost hoped that he wouldn't survive the end of it all. Yeah, it would suck not getting to see the victory he'd worked so long and hard for, but it would be better than ending up all alone. Then needing to watch Castiel walk out on him.  
  
 _Again._  
  
The very idea pained him enough for Dean to know that he wouldn't survive that. Not now after everything that had happened. He got attached to people quickly that he let close, he knew he did and that was part of the reason why he normally kept things quick and distant. A night of pleasure for himself and his partner, no strings attached, and then it was time to move on before he learned any more of them or started to care for and expect more from them then they were willing to give. Yeah, okay, so he understood why it had been necessary for Castiel to leave before, but that hadn't made it any easier to deal with and then, at least, he'd had something to look forward to. Now, he didn't.  
  
A part of his mind tried to tell him that this time was different, that there was no chaos and anarchy in Heaven for Castiel to go deal with, but Dean shoved it aside. Who knew what would happen between now and then, especially with Michael out and about? How long before the archangel tried to usurp Cas' power and position and caused more strife? And that was all assuming that they'd win and he'd live to see it happen. But, if it all played out like that, and Heaven wasn't in an uproar, then he knew he still couldn't lay claim to his lover. Castiel was an angel and angels belonged in Heaven. He'd seen what being away from there did to Cas and he had no desire to see that repeated ever again.  
  
"Excuse me, do you mind if I join you?"  
  
The man asking was of average height but above average build and most of that due to muscle mass. If this guy knew how to fight, Dean knew he'd have a challenge on his hands, but he doubted the creature considered hand-to-hand an important skill to have. If he was right about this guy, then he probably relied on his shapeshifting abilities more then anything else.  
  
"Uh, sure," Dean replied, putting what he thought was enough hesitancy into his voice.  
  
The bar was by no means full and there were plenty of empty tables, so the average Joe would probably be a bit wary of a complete stranger coming to join him, well if it wasn't a girl anyway, and he'd half expected that it would be. That way at least they could lure their victims in easily. As the creature sat, he couldn't help but note the slightly more golden hue to his eyes then was normal. Most people would probably write it off as a trick of the light if they noticed it at all, but he knew better.  
  
"Sorry," the man said calmly. "But I couldn't help but notice that you were sitting alone and that you looked like someone who likes to play golf."  
  
 _Hook._  At least the golf shirt Lisa had insisted he buy would come to some good use.  
  
"Yeah, I do, unfortunately my ex got all of my clubs in the divorce, so I can't exactly play at the moment."  
  
 _Line._  Now, would he take the bait?  
  
"That sucks, man!" the creature stated sympathetically. "But I've got an extra set if you want to play a game?"  
  
 _Sink 'em._  Much as Dean wanted to accept the offer, he had to play his part to avoid looking too eager. Therefore, he frowned.  
  
"Don't you have anyone to play with?"  
  
"Nope, I'm new, just moved into town and I hate playing on my own."  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"Come on, man, it's already November, how much longer do you think the weather will hold even this far South?"  
  
"That's true," Dean mused. "Oh, what the heck."  
  
"That's the spirit! I'm Alex, by the way."  
  
"Justin."  
  
"Well, good to meet you, Justin. Do you still need to pay or are you good to go?"  
  
"I'm good."  
  
"Great, my car is parked 'round the back, in the parking garage."  
  
Of course it was somewhere away from prying eyes and anyone likely to hear or respond to a cry for help. Dean also strongly doubted that the creature's vehicle was a car at all, he'd bet the Impala that it was a van or something else that would make it easy to covertly transport an unconscious and potentially bleeding body.  
  
Since he knew he was still safe here, Dean led the way out of the sports bar. As he went, he could feel the creature's eyes on him, no doubt assessing him. He had to suppress a shiver at the thought of being so thoroughly appraised not for his looks or fighting abilities, but rather for how good he'd taste or how big of a meal he'd be. Based on the normal appetite for a skinwalker, the chosen victims and the frequency with which this pack was killing, he estimated that there were five to seven creatures in the pack, depending on their genders. That had been part of the reason why he'd known this plan would work. Though he wasn't quite as tall as his father or brother, he knew he was still taller than average and his hunter's physique made him more muscled then your average American male, so he'd known that he'd be more appealing to the pack. Still, between thinking that and actually being drooled over as a meal, there was a large gap and it was a distinctly uncomfortable one. He could only hope for the previous victims that they'd been killed before the pack had started eating, but he was afraid that they hadn't been.  
  
"This way," the creature indicated, coming to walk beside him.  
  
Dean started some inane conversation as he let the creature lead him. He kept his eyes peeled, though, and noticed the man lingering outside the parking garage. A quick glance in a car window showed the guy following them. Amateur, he thought to himself, not that they'd needed anymore then this with their normal victims. Still, you didn't see Castiel making stupid mistakes like that. Hell, even he couldn't spot the angel and he knew he was out there, somewhere. Then they rounded a corner and there were two more guys standing with a woman. He nearly smiled as he noticed the van they were standing next to. Any urge to smile vanished when he caught one of the guys licking his lips at the sight of him.  
  
Dude, that was just gross and wrong on  _so_  many levels.  
  
A quick glance around to ensure that there were no innocent bystanders present and Dean was more than ready to get this show on the road. In a gesture designed deliberately to look as innocuous as possible, he reached out to touch the creature's bare forearm. With his right hand, the one bearing the silver ring. As expected, the creature hissed and pulled his arm away.  
  
Bingo.  
  
"Are you alright?" Dean inquired innocently. "Did I hurt you?"  
  
Not only had the little incident put any final doubts he might have had to rest, but it had also had the added benefit of drawing the attention of the four other skinwalkers. Dean noticed the woman wincing in sympathy as they started to close in on him. Good, the closer the better as that meant there was less chance of them getting away once they realized exactly what was going on here.  
  
"No, no," the creature replied hastily, glancing about wildly. "You just caught me by surprise is all."  
  
It took a few seconds for Dean to figure out what Alex- if that was even his real name- was trying to do, but he smiled when he did. They were too far away from the van for the creature's comfort. He wanted to get him closer to it before doing anything to give the game away and he was desperately trying to tell his packmates that. Not that any of them seemed to be either getting the message or caring about it. So perhaps the word 'pack' was the wrong one as he tended to associate packs with a clear, strong leader whom the others followed and that definitely didn't seem to be the case here. No, they were rather a ragtag and undisciplined group.  
  
"Oh, really?" Dean questioned, voice syrupy sweet. "Gee and here I thought it was the silver of my ring you didn't like."  
  
The words made the creatures freeze in their tracks, eyes wide.  
  
It seemed to click for the woman first as she drew in a sharp breath. "Hunter!"  
  
"Damn right, I am," Dean replied. "Did you really think that you could get away with eating people and no one would notice? If so, guess again. Honestly, what is it with you guys anyway?"  
  
The first to respond was the one who'd licked his lips earlier, a truly terrible expression twisting his already fugly face. "I'm going to fucking tear you to shreds."  
  
"No, you are not."  
  
The words are said calmly, but Dean could detect the familiar steel underneath them that meant that his lover was deadly serious. The sudden, unexpected arrival of the two archangels (and what the hell was Michael doing here anyway?) caused chaos and he used the opportunity to take out the creature closest to himself before it decided to attack him. He was already turning to aim his silver bullet loaded Desert Eagle at the skinwalker not being attacked by Castiel and Michael when he heard a growl behind him. Reacting instantly, he spun around to face the sound and only just managed to twist away from the snarling jaws aimed at his throat.  
  
A clawed paw scratched his arm as he went down and Dean hissed in pain, though he tried to ignore it so he could face the new threat head-on. This particular skinwalker had taken on the form of a large Doberman and was already crouched to attack him once more when it suddenly whined, the sound quickly turning into a howl as it was incinerated on the spot, much as Anna had been when she'd tried to kill Mom.  
  
Momentarily stunned, Dean could only stare at the ashes that were all that was left of a sixth skinwalker, one he hadn't even known was there until he'd heard that growl. The complete silence around him was what allowed him to remain in place for so long as he'd been far too well trained to freeze in the middle of a fight. Not that he'd expected anything else from two archangels, they probably could have taken the lot of them out without blinking, but still, if there had been any sign of an ongoing struggle, he'd have given it his full attention immediately.  
  
Slowly, Dean rose to his feet and turned to look at the others, jumping back as he realized exactly how close Michael stood to him and the fact that he had one of his hands raised out towards him.  
  
"Whoa, back off, dude!" Dean exclaimed.  
  
"You are hurt," Michael replied, not lowering his arm.  
  
Both Michael and Castiel were completely unruffled physically, though his lover appeared to be caught between surprise and, Dean frowned, what looked like fear. His angel was looking at Michael at first, but then Cas turned to look at him and he realized that, yeah, it was fear in those eyes and that it was because of what had so nearly happened to him. The complete lack of alarm there, though, allowed him to come to a decision and he didn't pull away when the archangel reached out towards his arm once more. The now familiar feeling of skin sewing itself shut washed over him and he wondered what it meant that Michael had thought to heal him. Was it progress or simply a desire to keep his vessel in the best condition possible for when he got to wear it?  
  
"Did you do that?" Dean demanded, gesturing towards the ashes.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"How?"  
  
"By using my powers," Michael said slowly, as if speaking to a small child.  
  
"Fuck you," Dean shot back, earning himself the expected scowl.  
  
"How?" This time the question came from Castiel, who was looking at his brother in surprise.  
  
"It is an archangel ability," Michael stated.  
  
"Good," Dean replied. "So teach Cas how to do it."  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"Teach Cas, he's an archangel now."  
  
His lover's face lit up and Dean knew that Castiel had just realized what he had. He didn't know why it hadn't occurred to them any sooner then this. There Cas and Xarael had been, struggling away to try and discover and master all of the new abilities that Castiel possessed as an archangel, when they now had the perfect source available to them. It showed how wary they were of Michael, but the archangel had yet to do anything more than be a complete ass since he'd first shown up three weeks ago.  
  
Michael eyed his brother in a way Dean didn't like at all and he pounced before the douchebag could open his mouth. "Look, Mikey, you're the one that sought us out and, so far, we've been accommodating, but that can change real quick if you don't give us a little something back."  
  
He was getting that expression again, the one that was a bizarre mix of self-righteous anger, resignation, confusion and resentment. He still enjoyed it far more then he knew he should.  
  
"Angels do not teach each other skills, they are created already knowing all the ones that they need to," Michael stated.  
  
"Yeah, well, Daddy changed the rules, remember? Unless you really think He gave Cas all of these abilities without the intention of him ever learning to use them?"  
  
Apparently that was the right thing to say as Michael seemed to relent, though as ungracefully as before. Dean frowned, not liking how easy all of this was. After everything that had happened before Stull Cemetery, he'd have expected far more of a fight from the archangel then they'd been getting. He knew that he didn't really understand the connection between angels and God- hell, he wasn't even sure if he was even  _capable_  of understanding that type of bond- but could it really explain Michael's aberrant behavior? Was that all it would have taken before? One unmistakable sign of God's thoughts on the matter and the entire Apocalypse would have been averted?  
  
For once, Dean found himself almost wishing that he never learned the answer to that question. If he did and his thoughts were confirmed, then he was pretty sure that he'd come to hate Castiel's Father in a way that was bound to hurt his lover.


	35. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean calls Michael out on his behavior and attitude when Castiel is away.

**PAST**  
  
  
Dean could feel the eyes on him, following his every movement. It was a feeling he'd grown used to after hitting his growth spurt as a teenager, his body already sculptured from all of the hard training his father had made him do. It had taken some getting used to, but once he'd learned the power of his looks, he'd used them to their fullest potential. Dad had always taught them to use anything and everything at their disposal after all. That this hadn't originally included his physical charms beyond a child's ability to capture the attention and sympathy of older women had become clear to him when he'd turned to his father after having charmed some old bastard with a few coy glances and a little shy behavior.  
  
He could now understand his father's fear that one thing would lead to another and all, but Dean was pretty sure his horrified and disgusted reaction had allayed it.  
  
But, yeah, all of this meant that Dean was perfectly aware of his own looks and the attention they tended to draw, from both genders. So that he was used to, the thing was that the prickling along the back of his neck would have told him that this wasn't another human watching him, but rather that it was an angel, even if the archangel wasn't the only other one in the room with him. The problem was, it was the wrong archangel for Dean to be enjoying or basking in the attention so, instead of welcoming it and being turned on by it, it angered and chilled him, the hair on the back of his neck rising in response.  
  
He turned around to give Michael a piece of his mind about the behavior, but the words froze in his throat when Dean caught sight of the look on his- or rather his aunt's- face. Clearly Michael wasn't able to mask his emotions as well, or either he wasn't trying to, but he could read them loud and clear. Possessiveness was the predominant expression and it chilled him to the core to see that on an angel other than Castiel when directed at him (and the thought stopped a part of Dean cold, the fact that he might  _want_  to see that on his angel's face). This in turn immediately enraged him as fear always did when he was confronted with this type of situation, much to his father and Sam's eternal dismay.  
  
Even as the rage and indignation came to life within him, another part of Dean's mind absently noted the appreciation he also saw in Michael's gaze and it just served to anger him even further. Well good for the bastard that he liked his intended vessel's looks. It was just too fucking bad that he'd never get to wear said vessel as there was no way on Earth that he was letting someone like him ride him. No fucking way.  
  
"Don't even think about it!" Dean snarled furiously, fists clenching and he could feel the Jewel of Abel start to glow.  
  
"Dean?"  
  
The way the bastard managed to make his name sound so full of confusion with just the faintest hint of disdain made Dean's blood boil and he took far too much satisfaction at seeing Michael's wary glance down at his hand. Although he and Castiel had decided that it was unlikely that Michael was playing some kind of elaborate ruse, neither of them came close to trusting the archangel. Therefore he always made sure to wear the Jewel of Abel whenever his lover wasn't around and Michael was. It didn't happen often, but occasionally Cas would be called away to Heaven and it seemed pointless for him to be zapped somewhere else if his lover didn't think that it would take long.  
  
Today, Castiel had arrived with Michael in tow after one of their training sessions. Dean had to, albeit reluctantly, admit that the bastard archangel was keeping to his word on that issue. And generally on every other issue as well, if he were being truly honest with himself, which he hated to be just now. Not once had Michael shown any signs of seeking to double-cross them or of breaking his word, not that he was being particularly angelic about either issue. In a lot of ways, it kinda reminded Dean of Sam's adolescence and all of the drama it had entailed. Although the thought never failed to make him smile, he doubted either his own brother or Castiel's would find it particularly amusing. Well that was just too damn bad for them as that was what it made him think of. It said quite a lot as far as he was concerned that one of the most powerful archangels in existence could make him think of a spoiled child in the midst of a temper tantrum after not having gotten his way.  
  
"Oh, don't you 'Dean' me, Mikey, you know exactly what I'm on about," Dean snapped back, closing the gap between them.  
  
He'd just been putting away his newly cleaned weapons when the two angels had appeared and he'd gotten back to that when Castiel had flown off to take care of something quickly in Heaven. Dean had thought it better then banging his head up against the brick wall called Michael. It was a pity that the archangel just hadn't been able to return the favor.  
  
"I'm not blind, nor am I some puppet you can jerk around at will or an outfit you can just slip into whenever the mood strikes you!"  
  
"Yes, I am very aware of this," Michael replied, eyes narrowing. "You have made your sentiments on the matter more than clear."  
  
"Oh, yeah? Then why the hell do you still look at me like you have any kind of claim on me? Like you have any  _right_  to have any kind of claim on me?"  
  
"You are my vessel."  
  
"Son of a-" Dean managed to cut himself off at the last minute, needing to reign in his anger before he discharged the Jewel of Abel accidentally.  
  
Although he'd love nothing more than to just hit Michael with another burst of it, he wasn't stupid. The bastard was an archangel and, going by what Castiel had been telling him about their training sessions together, he knew damn well that he didn't stand a shadow of a chance against the douchebag if Michael were to really get pissed. So, blasting him across the room just for the hell of it without a quick escape route or Castiel around? A really fucking stupid idea. Besides, inevitably, he kept coming back to the fact that, looks and comments aside, Michael had yet to do anything untoward and he was damned if he was going to be the one to break the uneasy truce they'd somehow reached.  
  
No way was he giving Michael an excuse to further convince himself that humans were nothing but untrustworthy mud monkeys. Not a chance.  
  
It took a concentrated effort for Dean not to so much as flinch much less back away when Michael closed the remaining distance between them, carelessly invading his personal space, but he managed it. The aura of power that crackled around the archangel set the hair on his arms on end and he forced down the urge to swallow. He would  _not_  give the bastard the satisfaction of seeing how much he was getting to him, there was just no way. Besides, it wasn't like having his personal space invaded by an angel was anything new, even if Castiel had never done it with his Grace so primed.  
  
Out of nowhere the thought that Castiel would be jealous if he caught them like this and saw how close Michael stood to him, popped into Dean's head. He had no idea why it occurred to him now, but he definitely knew what lay behind it. The other week, after their successful skinwalker hunt, his lover had wasted no time in getting him out of the golf shirt he'd worn. He'd noticed his angel was acting off from the moment he'd gotten changed for the hunt, but hadn't realized why until afterwards when Castiel had all but ripped it off of him, growling 'mine' in his ear. The very thought that his lover could be jealous of Lisa after all that had happened between them had been so farfetched and ludicrous that it hadn't even occurred to him despite knowing that something wasn't right.  
  
Castiel had made his feelings on the topic more than clear, though, and Dean had to fight off the way his body wanted to react to the mere memory of that evening. It had caught him completely by surprise then and still managed to do so even now, just how thoroughly he'd enjoyed his lover's attention that evening even though Cas had been extremely dominant. It had been as if his angel had felt the need to restake his claim and it had turned him on in a way he'd never known he could be. Trust Castiel to find a way to turn bottoming into being in charge.  
  
"That is not what I meant," Michael stated, abruptly pulling Dean from his thoughts and making him scramble to get back with the program. "What you fail to understand is just how rare an archangel vessel is, how unique and special."  
  
The words made Dean bristle. "I'm not some pet or prized possession, I'm a human being!"  
  
"Must you deliberately misunderstand everything that I say?"  
  
"I'm not! If that's not what you meant then you're not being clear."  
  
"Although the bloodline for an archangel's vessel gets passed down from generation to generation just like that of any other angel, there are only an infinitesimally small number of true vessels even in that line," Michael explained. "Whereas other angels can often have almost anyone of the right bloodline, we cannot, not if we want to be able to use the full extent of our powers."  
  
"That why Lucy was starting to look a little worn around the edges?" Dean couldn't help but ask, shuddering at the memory of the decay Lucifer's first vessel had shown.  
  
They never had figured out who the poor idiot had been, but Dean had always felt kinda sorry for him. To have the devil himself riding you around... True, the guy had to have said yes at some point, but that didn't mean that Lucifer had told him the truth, he could just have approached the dude as 'an angel of the Lord'. For a lot of people- far too many people as far as he was concerned- that would have been more then enough. And even if Lucifer had been honest with him as far as his identity was concerned, well, he was known as the Prince of Lies for a reason. He didn't doubt that the bastard could talk a sweet line if the situation called for it. Sammy had definitely seemed to indicate as much from what little he'd said about his dreams.  
  
"Yes, and it is what will happen with this vessel if I remain in it too long."  
  
"Her name is Deirdre," Dean stated coldly. "She was a person and not an inanimate object."  
  
Michael's gaze bore into his for a few minutes before relenting slightly. "My apologies."  
  
"Okay, so when you say true vessel you mean true vessel for this time and place, not really true vessel at all."  
  
"For most archangels that would be the case, yes."  
  
He didn't want to take the bait, Dean  _really_  didn't, but he wasn't sure if Michael would continue on his own and just how often would he have one of the bastards be so willing to give him information? "Most?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Fucking asshole, of course he couldn't elaborate on his own. "And what about you?"  
  
"No, this has not been the case for me. I have had two previous vessels who could hold me better than the others of my line, but even they weren't what I would call a true vessel," Michael stated, eyes leaving his own and shifting to look at him overall. "Neither of them could have born the brunt of my full powers though they could take more than any others before or since them until now."  
  
Dean snorted. "Of course not. And what makes you so sure that I'll be any different without a test ride? Prophecy? 'Cause you gotta know that I don't believe in that bullshit."  
  
"At first it was prophecy, yes, and the fact that Lucifer and I couldn't have a true fight here on Earth with anything less than our true vessels. However, since meeting you for the first time, I have known that I would have recognized you to be the one even without any of that."  
  
"No, wait, let me guess," Dean sneered. "It was like love at first sight? Only with vesselship instead?"  
  
"A hopelessly crude analogy, but probably the closest your human mind can come to understanding the matter."  
  
The temptation to just zap Michael again was back and Dean let the Jewel of Abel glow enough to start whine but held it there. To his credit, the archangel didn't so much as flinch, but he figured that if he could face one of God's most powerful angels without flinching that it really shouldn't surprise him that said angel could do the same with him even if he had an anti-angel weapon.  
  
With a flutter of wings, Castiel returned and then was gone again almost just as quickly. Before Dean could even frown, his lover reappeared directly in front of him, taking up a protective stance between himself and Michael, only just fitting into the space left between them. He scowled in annoyance at the gesture even as it touched something deep within him.  
  
"I have not touched him, Castiel," Michael stated, his own expression dark with insult.  
  
The fact that they both seemed to be agreeing on something, pissed Dean off and made him drop his own scowl, just on principle. Damn bastard.  
  
"Dean?" Castiel inquired.  
  
"I'm fine. Your brother's a dick, though."  
  
And if Dean had the desire to stick out his tongue at Michael when the archangel turned his glare back his way, well then he felt perfectly justified in feeling that way. Bastard.  
  



	36. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel wants to have Dean.

**PAST**  
  
  
Dean moaned, hips already thrusting before he came fully awake, reacting instinctively to the tight, warm heat of a fist on his cock.  
  
"Cas," Dean groaned.  
  
His eyes opened lazily as his mind tried to figure out what was going on- well, apart from the obvious- a task made infinitely more difficult with all of his blood rushing Southwards and the sleep still shrouding his mind.  
  
"Dean," Castiel replied softly.  
  
His lover was leaning over him, watching his every reaction and Dean merely moaned again as his cock was worked just as he liked it best. He didn't have the ability to protest the intense gaze, not with everything else, nor could he do anything but respond. He knew his angel liked him like this, when he was still all pliable and sleep mused, without most of his automatic defenses up. It made him feel very vulnerable in that way he didn't normally like much at all, but with Castiel it was different as so many things were. With Cas, it was okay, though he could only take a little of it at a time before it just became too much and threatened to overwhelm him. Luckily his angel seemed to understand that and always intensified things before it all became too intimate for him.  
  
He finally remembered that he'd been lounging on the bed, watching some TV after a takeout dinner while he waited for his lover to arrive.  
  
"Sorry I fell asleep."  
  
"Sorry I was late," Castiel replied, leaning down for a kiss.  
  
Dean responded instantly, tongue coming up to battle for dominance as Castiel slipped his tongue inside his mouth. He also reached out to pull his angel down on top of him and was pleasantly surprised to find him in just his pants and shirt, the rest of his clothes gone. He pulled the dress shirt from the pants and slipped his hands in along warm, smooth skin. Castiel moaned encouragingly and he used the opportunity to slip his tongue into his lover's mouth. He really wanted his angel's shirt off, but he didn't want to let go of his prize long enough to open the tiny buttons. Though given how Castiel's top few buttons always seemed to come undone somehow, perhaps he didn't have to undo the shirt the right way.  
  
He decided to test his theory, pulling the shirt up. Reluctantly Dean released his lover's lips to try and pull the dress shirt over his head. It worked but it left Castiel's hands stuck in the sleeves and he huffed in annoyance. Before he could try and undo those buttons, the shirt was suddenly gone and he mock-scowled at his angel.  
  
"You couldn't have done that before?" Dean demanded.  
  
"I was distracted," Castiel replied, squeezing his cock pointedly.  
  
Dean groaned, bucking his hips. The thought that his lover was still wearing his pants vanished from his mind as Castiel leaned down and mouthed at his nipple. Once he'd laved each with enough attention for them to pebble, his angel moved on, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses as he moved down his body. The thought alone of what was to come was enough to make him make all kinds of embarrassing noises, but he couldn't help it. Once Castiel had gotten the hang of giving blowjobs, he'd found his angel was frigging amazing at it as he had neither the need to breathe or a gag reflex to prevent his cock from being taken as deep as possible.  
  
The warm, wet heat engulfed his cock and Dean instinctively tried to buck, but was prevented from doing so by a strong hand on his hips. He mewled in response, both in protest and at the thought of just how strong Castiel really was and that the angel could do anything to him if he really wanted to. All rational thought fled as his lover took him deep, the head of his cock hitting the back of Castiel's throat before starting to slide down it. He had just enough time to realize how deep in he was before the angel swallowed and he jerked and cried out at the feel of the muscles constricting and shifting around the head of his cock, massaging it. The unrelenting pace of sucking and swallowing that Cas set had Dean writhing helplessly on the bed, keening and mewling before coming far too quickly.  
  
The force of his orgasm blacked things out for a few minutes, something Dean was starting to become very familiar with lately. When he opened his eyes, Castiel was lying pressed up against him, once more watching him closely. Before he could say anything, his lover ran a blunt nail along his spent cock and his eyes slammed shut with a guttural groan at the feel of it on raw, over-sensitized skin. It stopped before it could become too much and he was left shuddering in pleasure. The tiny movements had him brushing against his lover and that was enough to feel Castiel's erection pressing against him.  
  
"What do you want me to do, Cas?" Dean asked, eyes opening partway. What he saw in his angel's gaze made him blink and frown slightly as he didn't immediately recognize it. "Cas?"  
  
"I want... I'd like..."  
  
"What, Cas?"  
  
"I'd like to have you."  
  
Even in his sated state, body and mind awash in endorphins, Dean instantly knew what his lover was asking. "Yeah, okay."  
  
His response caught Dean by surprise, not only with his agreement, but by the speed that he'd given it. It wasn't that he hadn't thought about this before, but he'd always shied away from doing so too closely. He didn't wish to deny Castiel this, but it was just that it brought up so many absolutely awful memories for him from Hell. Alastair had been a master torturer, one didn't become the chief inquisitor of Hell by being anything less, and he had left absolutely no stone left unturned when it came to trying to break him. He also figured that, given his record when it came to sex, rape had been almost inevitable, but nothing could have prepared him for what Alastair had done. Even now just the mere word was enough to make him blanch, let alone thinking about what had actually happened.  
  
"Dean?"  
  
"It's just that I... I've never done this much and the last time was... Alastair," Dean admitted, eyes shut and swallowing thickly as he tried to fight off the memories.  
  
Yeah, he knew that hadn't happened to his real, physical body, but it had been real to him and that was all that mattered. Despite all of that, however, he wanted to give his lover this, not to mention the fact that he didn't want to let Alastair win and to never bottom again would be doing exactly that. When he opened his eyes again, it was to find the most furious and thunderous expression on Castiel's face that he'd ever seen before and he knew if he were to be on the receiving end of it, he'd definitely fear for his life. As it was, it provided only comfort as he knew it for what it was.  
  
Castiel's next touch was far more gentle then those that had come before, but his lover didn't ask him if he was really sure and for that Dean was grateful. He'd already given his permission and he meant it. The fact that his answer had come out as quickly as it had was merely a sign of how absolutely he trusted his angel. It was almost scary, the instinctiveness of his reply, especially when he considered how often he'd pushed aside the decision whenever it had come up before.  
  
Then Castiel's hand found the scar he'd left and gripped the skin as if to remind them both that Dean was no longer in Hell. The handprint was a souvenir not only of his rescue, but also of their first encounter and while he had hated it at first, he had come to secretly cherish it. It now symbolized their connection and was a physical reminder that someone had deemed him worthy of salvation. He closed his eyes and focused on the touch before returning the gentle kiss when it came. He resolutely ignored the sound of his lover fishing out their tube of lube and opening it.  
  
Normally Dean would resent the careful and gentle way Castiel was treating him, as if he were made of glass or would break at any moment, but not now. This was a minefield of sorts and he didn't want a flashback triggered, not only because that would royally suck, but also because this was Cas' first time topping and he was afraid that if it went wrong, his angel wouldn't want to try again, in case it happened a second time. Instead he focused on his lover; the sight of him, the smell of him and the taste of him as a slick finger circled his entrance before slowly breaching the ring of muscles.  
  
"Talk to me, Cas," Dean requested.  
  
The meaning of his lover's reply wasn't as important to Dean as the language itself as it was all in Enochian, which was perfect for what he wanted. Enochian was the one language he'd never heard in Hell and he let the now familiar and musical words flow over him, concentrating on his angel's voice as Castiel slowly and carefully prepared him, mimicking exactly all that he'd done on Cas' first time. He groaned when his prostate was touched and amazing pleasure washed over him. His angel soon had him bucking and writhing beneath him, desperate for more. When they reached the point where it was time for his lover to actually fuck him, he was so lost in pleasure that all thoughts of Alastair and Hell were gone and he was begging for more.  
  
Castiel eagerly complied, gasping and groaning as he slowly sank into him and Dean threw his head back at the sensation of being filled up so completely while his lover muttered his name like a prayer. The look in Cas' eyes was almost too much for him to bear when their gazes met, full of amazement, wonder and reverence. He swallowed thickly, but was unable to look away as his body adjusted and it wasn't long before he was ready for more. Unable to find his voice, he merely nodded and Castiel pulled almost all the way out as slowly as he'd entered. After a few such thrusts, he adjusted the angle of his hips a little and then cried out as the next thrust hit his prostate.  
  
"Cas, shit!"  
  
"Dean."  
  
His name was still being breathed like he was something precious and it was sending a thrill down Dean's spine every time. His hips started snapping up and Castiel took it as a sign to start speeding up his thrusts and soon all he could do was hang on. Distantly he was aware he was making all kinds of embarrassing little noises, but he couldn't bring himself to care. His whole world was narrowed to his angel and the feel of him moving within him. In addition to his never having done this much before Hell, he had definitely never done it bareback and the feel of his lover's cock within him, skin to skin was indescribable. Then Castiel stiffened above him and came inside of him, cock pulsing as his insides were coated with slick wetness. It was enough to make Dean come for a second time, untouched, to the sound of his own name.  
  
Dean had hoped to be able to see his angel's face as he came but figured he could do that the next time. Instead, he basked in the feel of having Castiel on top of him for once, finally seeing why his lover so enjoyed holding him after they came. He ran a hand up and down Cas' sweat-slicked back as he let himself drift on a sated haze.  
  
"Nuh uh," Dean protested, tightening his arms when Castiel made to shift off of him.  
  
His angel may be stronger than him, but Dean was more than capable of supporting his slighter weight for a while. He hummed in contentment when his lover started tracing random patterns over his chest, slowly drifting off to sleep.  
  


* * *

  
Castiel relaxed on Dean's chest, happy to remain there if that was what his mate wanted. He smiled again at the irony of Dean's body being bigger and stronger than that of his vessel. Not only was it one of his Father's many little wonders, but he suspected now that it had been necessary to help allay some of his mate's initial worries even if his true power had been proven during their first meeting on Earth. It would have been difficult to be otherwise, though, as Dean was very tall even by human standards, it was just easy to forget as Sam was so much taller.  
  
He absently ran his finger over his mate's skin as he felt Dean start to drift off to sleep once more. Castiel's own body felt pleasantly relaxed and he basked in the feeling, closing his eyes so he could savor the memory of what they'd just done. The feeling of being in his mate with Dean clenching down around him had been unbelievable and though he'd already been able to see why his hunter had always loved sex, he could now understand it even more. Just the memory of it was enough to make him want to do it again, but he willed himself not to harden once more and instead reluctantly slipped from his mate's body. With a thought, he cleaned them and then rolled them so he was the one holding Dean, not quite sure at what point he'd become too heavy for his human and not wanting him to wake because of that.  
  
Almost inevitably, Castiel's thoughts went back to Dean's confession and his arms tightened around his mate as he suppressed a growl of rage. Alastair's death had been far too clean for the crimes he'd committed and he wished he could bring him back just so he could deal with him properly now that he had the power to do so. It still shamed him that he'd been too weak to take him before. The demon had put his mate through unimaginable tortures and he'd been almost helpless to defend him when Dean had needed it.  
  
Although Castiel knew rape happened in Hell, he'd hoped his mate had been spared that particular horror, but clearly he hadn't. As his anger grew, he had to be careful not to accidentally hurt Dean, but he really wanted to  _do_ something. It was a foreign desire, this need to protect a loved one like this. His Father had always been invulnerable and his brothers and sisters either safe or well able to take care of themselves. Though his mate would be displeased to hear him say so, he knew how very fragile he was. So very breakable despite how fearlessly Dean faced almost any dangerous situation he came up against and it made him fear for his mate.  
  
At the same time, however, Castiel couldn't help but marvel at the durability of the human body and soul. They could take so much abuse and still carry on, Dean in particular. He could easily see how humans were the pinnacle of his Father's work. Though his mate still berated himself for having broken in Hell, he couldn't help but look at these same events in wonder. Although Dean had broken, it had taken Alastair thirty years to do so,  _thirty years_. Though that wasn't long for an angel, it could be a whole lifetime for a human. It had been a whole lifetime for his mate. Dean had held out under intense and expert torture for longer then he'd been alive.  _That_ was an amazing feat, especially when he'd had the particular attention of Hell's chief inquisitor for that entire time. No other soul had lasted that long, not when faced with Alastair every single day. It spoke volumes for Dean's stubbornness and strength of character though he wished desperately that he could have spared his mate all of that.  
  
On the other hand, however, human beings also all had a breaking point. Dean had reached his at the end of thirty years and then again only a few months ago. Castiel was now ashamed of the way he'd reacted at that time, recognizing his own reaction now for what it had been. He'd put too much on his mate, almost using him as a substitute for the Father whom he'd lost faith in and he'd then been angry and surprised when his hunter had been unable to measure up. He'd forgotten that humans, mortals, were inherently flawed and that it was often those flaws that made them so unique and special. Dean's loss of faith and inability to see another way had been inevitable after two years of constant fighting following right on the heels of forty years in Hell. It had been his own lack of faith in his Father that had really angered him and he'd taken it out on his mate.  
  
Castiel winced at the memory of how he'd hit Dean, everything still as clear to him as if it had happened yesterday, as with all of his memories. The way his human's body had given way beneath the force of his blows had him running hands over Dean's chest and face now, though he knew any damage had long since healed. It was a very human reaction, but he didn't care. He had used his superior strength against his mate and he couldn't quite believe how readily Dean had accepted his touch even immediately afterwards without the slightest trace of hesitation or unconscious reaction. It made him feel all the worse for what he'd done even if he was grateful for Dean's easy forgiveness, though it exasperated him at times.  
  
He let the thought go as his mate shifted against him and Castiel smiled, watching him. Dean's face was always so much more peaceful when he slept well and so relaxed that it made him seem far younger then he actually was. He often wished that he could ensure that his mate was always like that but knew it was unlikely to happen anytime soon. Instead he'd just have to content himself with being able to put it there whenever they spent time alone together. And if that meant more chances to have his mate, then that was merely a bonus in his opinion. He'd enjoyed it very much and definitely wanted to do it again.  
  



	37. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael questions Dean about the nature of his relationship with Castiel.

**PAST**  
  
  
If the past few months hadn't been half filled with hunts that veered towards the impossible, Dean would never have seriously been researching pixies of all things. Instead he'd have laughed the mere suggestion off as ludicrous, but not now, not after everything he'd seen lately. Hell, it was just only a little over two years ago that he'd thought angels nothing more then figments of the imagination and now look at him. These days he almost saw more with angels than humans and he definitely spent far more time with them. He smiled at the thought of what his reaction would have been if someone in the past had told him that he'd be in a somewhat stable relationship with an angel. And a male angel at that.  
  
His good humor vanished as he looked at the books arrayed around him on the table. On some level, Dean still couldn't believe he was hunting Tinkerbell and her band of merry pixies. After all, seriously, pixies! At least the lore on them was turning out to be a lot darker than Disney's version of them. He didn't think his reputation could take chasing down pink kids' toy look-alikes. Not that he'd leave a hunt for something like that, but still, a guy had to have some standards after all.  
  
The ringing of his phone was a welcome relief for Dean even if with his luck it would turn out to be Bobby. A quick glance at the caller ID, though, nixed that notion.  
  
"Michael," Dean said.  
  
A brief pause. "How did you know it was me?"  
  
"Magic."  
  
The pause was a bit longer this time and Dean couldn't help but smile. Score one for today's tally of 'confuse and frustrate the archangel'. He didn't normally get to start scoring points until at least a few more minutes into their interaction.  
  
"You are neither a witch nor a warlock."  
  
"Nope, you catch on real fast there, Mikey."  
  
"I have asked you to not call me that."  
  
"And I have decided to do so anyway."  
  
"You are a frustrating creature, Dean Winchester."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"Where are you?"  
  
"What, just like that? No sweet talking or offers for dinner first? I know I'm easy, but I'm not  _that_  easy."  
  
"I do not understand what you mean. I need to speak with you."  
  
Dean hesitated but then looked at the books he'd spent the past few hours looking through without much success. "You know anything about pixies?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Fine. Southern Maine, Belle View Lodge, room fourteen."  
  
Since he'd gotten used to the complete and utter lack of phone manners angels had, Dean had already put away his cell by the time Michael appeared in the room. He briefly wondered where the archangel had gotten the clothes Deirdre wore as they were neither hospital issue nor PJs, but then he dismissed it as unimportant.  
  
"There are no pixies here," Michael stated.  
  
"No, they're across town at the old abandoned railroad stat-" Before Dean could even finish the word, he found himself alone in the room once more. "What the hell?"  
  
Then Michael was back, looking none the worse for wear. "There, now there are no more pixies in this town."  
  
Dean blinked. "You smote the pixies?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"What, just like that?"  
  
"I am more than capable of handling a nest of pixies, Dean."  
  
"Whoa, whoa, slow down there big guy," Dean stated, hands raised as if he were dealing with a human. "I didn't mean to insult your manhood, eh angelhood, there. I'm just not used to any angel but Cas helping me on a hunt."  
  
"Would you have listened to me otherwise, if you still had a hunt to attend to?"  
  
"No, though I don't suppose you could have shown up several hours ago, before I'd spent so much time looking up pixies of all things?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Of course not."  
  
Despite his attitude, Dean was happy that the hunt was done, wasted time or not. Although he was sure he'd have found a way to deal with the nest, Michael's way was not only a lot faster and easier, but also a lot safer too. For being such small things, pixies were by all accounts damn vicious and he'd most likely have been injured at some point while taking out the nest. He was just about to thank the archangel, wanting to encourage all forms of good behavior (and this had been that even if Michael had done it for selfish reasons. At the very least it showed an awareness of Dean's own time and priorities that hadn't been there before) but the words caught in his throat as he saw how the archangel was looking at him. It wasn't the possessive and appreciative gaze from before, but rather something far more critical.  
  
"What?" Dean finally demanded, tired of the silent judgment. "If you have something to say, just spit it out. I never pictured you as one to be afraid to speak your mind."  
  
Michael regarded him for another moment or two before responding. "You are in a sexual relationship with Castiel."  
  
The words were so unexpected that Dean could only sputter and stare at the archangel in shock. "Excuse me?"  
  
"You are in a sexual relationship with Castiel."  
  
This time there was no mistaking the disapproval in Michael's tone and Dean felt his defenses going up. Yes, he knew that his and Cas' relationship was unusual and he'd be the first to admit that Castiel could do far better than him, but for whatever reason the angel wanted him and he was not going to let Michael belittle him for that. Nor was he going to let the archangel tell him what he could and couldn't do. He had no right whatsoever to do that.  
  
"What's it to you?"  
  
"Why did you do it? Did you think it would be entertaining to corrupt an angel; to bring one so low?"  
  
"Excuse me?" Dean demanded in disbelief.  
  
"You heard me."  
  
His anger and shock were so great that Dean couldn't respond right away. How dare he? How dare Michael accuse him of that? Yes, he had a certain reputation when it came to sex due to his past encounters, but did the archangel really think he was notching some frigging post? Or that Castiel would be so easily tempted into bed against his nature? As far as he knew, his lover had never shown any kind of interest in sex before him and even then it had come secondary to his feelings for him. Did Michael really not know his brother at all?  
  
"Look, I tried to avert this, to not tempt Castiel into something that seemed so against his nature to me," Dean replied. "I did, but he wouldn't let me."  
  
Michael gave him a scornful look. "Are you trying to tell me Castiel pursued you sexually?"  
  
"No, but this isn't about sex."  
  
"With you-"  
  
"If you dare say humans next, I will not be responsible for my actions!" Dean threatened. "Really, is that all you can come up with all the time? You're like a frigging record stuck on repeat."  
  
"You like sex."  
  
Dean really, really,  _really_  didn't want to know what Michael had seen or done to have the absolute conviction in his voice that he did. Really, he didn't.  
  
"Yeah, most humans do, it is an inherently pleasurable activity. That doesn't mean it drives everything I do. I'm with Cas because I like him, a lot, and that is the same reason why I wasn't going to pursue him or tell him what it was that he was feeling."  
  
"He didn't know?"  
  
"No, he had no experience with this."  
  
"Then what changed your mind?" Michael questioned.  
  
"His feelings were starting to interfere with things. He was getting jealous and didn't know it, but it was still affecting his interactions with other humans. I had to make him aware of what was going on and then figured that, since we both felt the same way, we might as well see where things went. But I never, never, pushed him into something he didn't want or wasn't ready for."  
  
"You mean to tell me Castiel wished for this on his own?"  
  
"I did."  
  
The words were Dean's first indication that his lover was in the room and, given the way Michael's head snapped around, he wasn't alone in that. Nevertheless, there stood Castiel, a clearly displeased expression on his face as he regarded his brother.  
  
"How?" Michael demanded. "Why?"  
  
"How about you keep your nose out of things that don't concern you?" Dead demanded.  
  
"No, it's okay, Dean," Castiel stated. "It's simple, Michael, I care deeply for Dean and desire to be close to him."  
  
The face Michael pulled made it more than clear what the archangel thought of that sentiment and Dean just couldn't let that lie. "Dude, you want to climb inside me!"  
  
That earned him a dismissive glance. "That is different."  
  
"He is right, Dean," Castiel said. "The taking of a vessel normally involves only a minimum of contact between an angel and the destined vessel, just that needed to obtain permission. What we have far transcends that as the mind and consciousness of the human is normally suppressed and dormant while a vessel."  
  
"Yes, I know, Jimmy said as much," Dean replied.  
  
"I still do not see how you decided sex was a good idea, Castiel."  
  
Dean was tempted to tell Michael that it was none of his business again, but his lover seemed to want to try explaining it even if he didn't think it would do any good. Another part of him also couldn't help but sympathize with the archangel on some level. He knew what it was like to watch a younger brother make what he considered to be a dubious choice when it came to a sexual partner and, while the thought that Michael might see him the way he had Ruby pissed him off, he was also aware of how lucky he'd been that the archangel had even bothered to question him about it instead of smiting him outright.  
  
"It is intimate and pleasurable," Castiel replied. "I do not know how else to describe it. And see."  
  
If Dean expected his angel to elaborate, he was disappointed as all his lover did was touch his shoulder, thumb caressing the side of his neck. He leaned in towards the touch automatically before he froze and his eyes snapped back towards Michael. The archangel had a frown on his face and his head was tilted in an all too familiar angelic manner. The expected retort never came and instead an uneasy silence descended on the room. Or at least that's how it seemed to him, though it didn't appear to affect either angel that way.  
  
"Eh, so, anything new, Cas?" Dean asked, looking back at his lover. "About the Apocalypse, I mean. Any more news on those books or the Virties?"  
  
"Virties?" Michael questioned.  
  
"Dean's name for the Virtues," Castiel explained. "And no. Belliel has had no further luck finding the missing books and our efforts to track down who might have caused the ripples has proven to be futile."  
  
"What ripples?"  
  
Dean tuned Castiel's explanation out in favor of some colorful, though silent, cursing. That was just great. They were working their asses off trying to find a way to end this damn Apocalypse and kept hitting nothing but wall after damn wall. Despite all of that, he simply refused to believe that killing millions of innocent people and ending the world as they knew it was the only option. There  _had_  to be another way and he would damn well find it even if it killed him.  
  
"When did this happen?" Michael asked.  
  
"The first was nearly two months ago, the second a few weeks after that," Castiel replied. "And the final one was when you broke free from the cage."  
  
Because he was watching Michael, Dean caught the slight tightening of muscles around the archangel's eyes. He opened his mouth to call Michael on it and to demand what he knew, but his lover beat him to it.  
  
"What is it, Michael?"  
  
"I may not have been entirely truthful about how I got out of the cage," Michael finally admitted.  
  
"What?" Dean thundered, face darkening. "You lied to us? Sonovabitch! And then you wonder why we don't trust you."  
  
"I had to be sure that I could trust you," Michael explained. "You would not have revealed everything right away either had you been in my position, Dean."  
  
Grudgingly, Dean had to give him that.  
  
"Especially if it meant protecting a brother."  
  
The words brought Dean to full attention and he could see the subtle shift in Castiel's posture as well.  
  
"One of our brothers helped you out?" Castiel demanded.  
  
"Yes," Michael confirmed, indicating behind him.  
  
Even as Dean was cursing, his suspicions of the remaining angels confirmed, there was a flutter of wings and then a man stood behind the archangel.  
  
"You!" Dean snarled, on his feet in an instant.  
  
What happened next all occurred so fast that Dean wasn't sure who moved first or in what order. He'd taken a few intuitive steps back, the newcomer's old threats still clear in his mind and he knew how vulnerable he was at the moment with only a gun and knife on him. Surely reacting to that same realization, Castiel had zapped in front of him, his sword suddenly in his hand as he took up a protective stance. Michael, meanwhile, had taken a step back and to the right, solidly placing himself before the newcomer, blocking his lover's access to him.  
  
"No," Michael said, firmly. "Let us explain."  
  
The newcomer was the only one who hadn't moved, remaining in the position he'd arrived in, his gaze locked on Dean in the same way it had in an abandoned house just over a year ago.  
  
Raphael.


	38. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael's point of view.

**PAST**  
  
  
Michael held his position before Raphael as he waited to see what would happen next. He disliked being so passive, but he was afraid that anything he might do or say would only make things worse than they already were. He understood so little about his vessel and seemed to be constantly aggravating him without meaning to do so. Not that he didn't do so on purpose on occasion, but most the time he didn't.  
  
It was amazing and fascinating to watch his vessel sometimes and, although Michael increasingly found himself growing fond of Dean and even coming to admire him and his spirit, at times it took all of his patience not to show his vessel what he truly was and exactly how insignificant and frail the human was in comparison. Only he wasn't, insignificant that was, his Father had made that quite clear already and more than once. It merely shamed him that he'd misinterpreted his Father's wishes so badly and that he had not learned his lesson after the first instance.  
  
Dean's significance was what made Michael keep an eye on his vessel as well as his brother as he waited for their next move. Although Dean didn't have the Jewel of Abel on him at the moment and thus couldn't truly hurt Raphael or himself, he had learned not to underestimate the human's resourcefulness and stubbornness. If they didn't work against him so often, he'd almost admire his vessel for them. Such tenacity in a human despite such formidable odds was a very rare thing indeed. It made him curious about the hunter in a way he hadn't been about a human in a very long time, even if he took the brunt of that stubbornness.  
  
All of that made his vessel dangerous despite the odds stacked against him and thus Michael knew to keep an eye on him. On top of all of that, he knew that Castiel listened to Dean- had nearly  _fallen_  for his vessel- so Dean could make his brother act even if Castiel wouldn't have on his own. The thought angered him for a moment, to think of any of his brothers and sisters brought so low as to take orders from a human, but then he immediately tried to reign it back in again. His Father had rewarded Castiel in a completely unprecedented manner for what he'd done, so there was something there that he needed to learn, something he was quite sure had to do with his vessel.  
  
"Raphael pulled you out of the cage?" Castiel finally questioned.  
  
"Yes," Michael replied. "The dates you mentioned for the ripples the Virtues felt correspond roughly to when Raphael broke free from the holy fire you left him in, his decision to pull me out and my rescue, respectively."  
  
"That would definitely explain them."  
  
"How the hell did he get out?" Dean demanded. "We secured that room."  
  
"It took a while, but with enough determination most traps can be overcome," Michael replied for his brother.  
  
Michael didn't feel like he could move aside yet and thus didn't think it wise to allow Raphael to speak. His brother hadn't liked it, but he'd agreed, deferring to him to him as always when it really counted. As did most angels, a fact which had made his shock all the greater when Zachariah had told him that Castiel had betrayed them for his sword. Although Lucifer had taken his fair share of their brothers and sisters with him when he rebelled and was cast down, almost none had left since. Just a small handful and each fresh betrayal always came as such a shock to him. He couldn't see why they were doing it; why they were choosing to leave their home and family for either the darkness of Hell or the drudgery and monotony of Earth. He just wanted to keep them together and provide them with the best that he could, hence his and Raphael's original desire to see Paradise opened to everyone who deserved it.  
  
This connection to family was why he'd come to enjoy the training sessions with Castiel. Thinking back on it now, Michael knew he should have expected it, but he hadn't really thought about it. It was strange, needing to think about  _how_  he performed certain tasks so he could tell his brother how to do them. He supposed it was something like how human parents and older siblings felt and that parallel wasn't lost on him. Dean had been right when he'd pointed out that Father must have intended for either himself or Raphael to teach Castiel as otherwise He would have granted him the knowledge as well as the power. That connection, however, was what made the current situation all the more painful; to see the brother he'd started to know standing before him with his weapon drawn. It was a smart on Castiel's part, though, because he didn't really know the younger angel's moves with the sword too well, there brief duel notwithstanding and so he wouldn't be able to predict them unlike what they'd been practicing. Plus, he'd heard Castiel was quite proficient with the sword from Zachariah's reports.  
  
Dean shifted slightly, but his eyes didn't move and Michael feared that Raphael was staring him down. He knew his brother's pride has been hurt, being trapped as he had by a human and a Seraph, but he'd hoped Raphael would be able to control himself in light of Father's actions. The reminder of the incident didn't fail to arouse a certain amount of pride within him though. It was no small feat to trap an archangel and yet Dean and Castiel had managed it with some careful planning. It made him wonder what else they were capable of as they'd also managed to evade Zachariah for an impressive amount of time as well.  
  
"Why'd you pull Mikey from the cage?" Dean demanded, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had fallen.  
  
As it had been directly asked of Raphael, Michael kept quiet and chose to see it as progress.  
  
' _Mikey?_ ' Raphael questioned privately, scandalized.  
  
' _Not now, Brother._ '  
  
At least he wasn't alone in disliking that ridiculous moniker Dean had given him. Michael felt Castiel took far too much amusement from it, though he seemed to have no objection to his own moniker. He wondered what it was about them Dean liked so much as he'd overheard him referring to his brother as Sammy once, so it wasn't merely about shortening a name. The other thing that he had noticed was that there was none of the malice and contempt in his vessel's voice when he used Castiel's moniker that there was when he was addressed as 'Mikey.' He was sure that difference had something to do with why his brother seemed to accept the alteration of his name. He wasn't sure why it would make such a difference, but he was surprised to discover that he wished he knew. It was a foreign desire that he wasn't sure what to do with and thus chose to push it aside for the moment.  
  
"He is my brother," Raphael replied aloud.  
  
Because he was watching Dean, Michael saw the flicker of emotions in his vessel's eyes and he was pretty sure his brother had said the right thing. He filed it away for future reference.  
  


* * *

  
The words hit Dean with a force he hadn't thought possible and he had to swallow down the swell of emotions that rose within him. This was not the time for this and he knew it. Doing so now would only give Raphael a weakness to exploit and he had no intention of giving the archangel the chance to do so. Not after all the bastard had said he'd do to him nor the way he had threatened Castiel. Despite all of that, he couldn't seem to make his throat work.  
  
"So is Lucifer," Castiel pointed out and Dean was silently thankful for how well his lover knew him.  
  
Raphael's response was to stop glaring at him and to turn his scornful gaze to his brother. The action was enough to spur Dean back on track, not wanting the archangel- and how the hell had he ended up with  _three_  of them in his motel room?- to remember what he'd said to Castiel at the end of their last meeting.  
  
"Lucifer betrayed us and is deserving of his situation," Raphael stated  
  
"So why'd you let him out in the first place?" Dean demanded, knowing exactly how to bring the bastard's attention back to himself. "You that eager to see him killed?"  
  
As expected, those words were enough to make him the sole focus of Raphael's attention once more, not to mention Michael's as well. The ferociousness of their combined gazes was enough to give Dean pause, but then he shoved it aside. It wasn't like he hadn't stood up to two archangels before and then he'd had less backup then he did now. He only wished that he'd thought to get out the Jewel of Abel before telling Michael where he was.  
  
"You had better learn to watch your tongue, mu-" Raphael began.  
  
"Raphael!" Michael barked, instantly silencing the younger angel and Dean couldn't help but be kinda impressed. "As for you, Dean Winchester, cease attempting to aggravate him. You know very well neither of us wish to see our brother dead."  
  
Dean's eyebrows rose and he felt anger coil within him. "No, I know no such thing. All I know is that the two of you conspired to let Lucy free with the intention of killing him shortly afterwards in order to attain your goals. As far as I'm concerned, that equates to wanting to see him dead."  
  
The small step backwards that Castiel took could have been construed as a retreat but for the fact that it allowed his lover to come within touching distance of him and Dean knew his angel was preparing for a quick exit, should it become necessary. Abruptly it reminded him of how he'd felt when Castiel had shot off his mouth to Michael when the archangel had first appeared and he briefly felt bad at putting his lover through that. The thing was, it really infuriated him, the way Michael and Raphael tried to explain away their actions at times. It was like that first conversation with Raphael all over again. He could still clearly recall the shock he'd felt when the archangel had declared God dead and subsequently why they'd decided to start the Apocalypse.  
  
For a moment it seemed to Dean like they really would need to make a fast escape as Michael's face went dark and dangerous again, but then it cleared and the archangel seemed to almost slump. Well, as far as an angel would slump, which was not at all if one applied human standards, but he'd learned to ignore those when dealing with Heaven's residents and started measuring their responses based on what he'd learned from Castiel.  
  
"I would give anything to have my brother back with us," Michael stated. "Anything, but that is not possible. Lucifer has made his views quite clear and I know now there is no changing his mind, not after everything that has happened. Regardless of that, I have no desire to either kill him or see him dead by another's hand."  
  
"Call me stupid, but if I had the choice between keeping my brother locked up or having to kill him, I'd keep him locked up. That's like a no-brainer."  
  
"I was trying to help my other brothers and sisters."  
  
Castiel shifted slightly, drawing Dean's attention back to him. The fact that his lover felt safe enough to glance back at him, thus taking his eyes off his brothers, made him relax a little and he met the blue gaze head-on. Cheesy as it sounded, he felt they could communicate quite a lot without any words passing between them and he was currently quite thankful for that as it let them reach a decision without Michael or Raphael overhearing it. In fact, all it took was one good look at his angel's eyes to know that Castiel wanted to at least give his brother's the benefit of the doubt.  
  
Dean sighed even as he knew that he'd do it. Not only did he find it hard to deny his lover anything, but Castiel had been mostly right when it came to Michael. Although the archangel had lied to them, it hadn't been to betray or use them and had instead been for a reason that he was forced to admit he understood. If their situations had been reversed, he just  _knew_  that he'd have lied to keep his brother safe. Damnit, but he hated being able to see where Michael was coming from, it made it harder to remain angry with him.  
  
"So, what? You just want us to believe that you now wish to avert the Apocalypse?" Dean finally inquired.  
  
"Yes," Michael replied  
  
"You're the ones who started it in the first place!"  
  
"Of this I am very much aware, as I am of Father's disapproval."  
  
Dean snorted. "That's one way of putting it."  
  
"Nevertheless, we now wish to help you," Michael stated.  
  
"How?" Dean demanded.  
  
"What we need is to gather together as many archangels as possible," Raphael said.  
  
"There aren't any others left who'll help us," Castiel replied. "We're it."  
  
"Not true," Michael countered. "There is Gabriel."  
  
"Gabriel abandoned his post, you know this," Castiel shot back, lip curling.  
  
"Yes, I do."  
  
"And do you know that he's spent his time on Earth pretending to be a pagan god?"  
  
"Yes, I am aware," Michael replied calmly.  
  
"You are?" Castiel blinked.  
  
"Zachariah's angels picked up traces of his presence when they managed to briefly track the Winchester brothers. They were too late, but we did learn the truth at that point."  
  
"Our problem has been locating him," Raphael added. "Gabriel has always been good at hiding, so we have attempted to track down the other pagans that he would normally hang out with, but we have had no luck there so far either."  
  
"That's 'cause they're almost all dead," Dean stated, sorely tempted not to say anything given the sheer frustration this failure had apparently caused Raphael, but he knew he couldn't. The situation was far too grave for such childish tactics. "Baldur, Ganesh, Odin, Mercury, Baron Samedi and Zao Shen, they're all dead. Only Kali remains."  
  
"What? How?" Michael demanded.  
  
"Lucifer."  
  
"Why would Lucifer want to kill them?" Castiel inquired.  
  
It caught Dean slightly off-guard, but then he remembered that all of this had transpired when his lover had been... wherever the angel banishing sigil had sent him. When they'd finally gotten him back there had been so much going on and the events hadn't been truly significant apart from the knowledge of the rings that they'd never gotten around to telling his angel about it. He swallowed as he realized that Castiel didn't know that another of his brothers was dead.  
  
"Because they wanted to stop the Apocalypse and were planning to kill him."  
  
Raphael snorted. "As if they could. What were they planning to do, use their powers on him?"  
  
"No, they were going to use Gabriel's sword," Dean explained.  
  
"How do you know all of this?" Castiel asked.  
  
His lover stepped closer, almost as if he already knew the answer and Dean took his hand reassuringly. "Because they set a trap for Sam and me. They wanted to use us as bait to lure Lucifer in."  
  
"Let me guess, he slaughtered them," Raphael said.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"How did you get out?" Michael asked, regarding him steadily.  
  
"Gabriel," Dean said, watching the surprise and shock blossom on all of their faces. "He decided at the last minute that he wasn't just going to sit around and let Lucifer kill all of his friends and then destroy Earth. He was too late to save the others, but he managed to distract Lucifer long enough to save Kali, Sam and me."  
  
The silence that fell over the room was heavy and made Dean want to fidget but he refrained from doing so. He also swallowed the impulse to make some smartass remark. The three angels could be in no doubt as to how the encounter between Lucifer and Gabriel had ended and, insensitive though he could be at times, even he couldn't make light of the death of a brother. And if the archangels had once stuck together as he'd assumed they probably had, then this came as a heavy blow to Raphael and Michael. Besides, though Gabriel had been a royal pain in the ass and an unbearable jerk most of the time, he'd come through for them in the end and Dean could respect that.  
  
"This was after he told you about the fact that you could use the Horseman rings to reopen Lucifer's cage?" Castiel finally inquired.  
  
"No, before," Dean said and then rushed on to explain before he got anyone's hopes up. "Just before he faced Lucifer, Gabriel gave me a DVD and told me to guard it with my life. On it was a recording of himself in which he told us what we needed to know."  
  
"Do you still possess of this... DVD?" Michael asked.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"May we see it?"  
  
"Ah... I don't really think you'd want to," Dean replied, trying to think of how they'd react to witnessing Gabriel reenacting a porno.  
  
"Yes, we do," Raphael declared.  
  
Dean could already tell by that tone alone that Castiel wasn't the only angel who had trouble distinguishing shades of meaning from human voices.  
  
"Okay, but don't say I didn't warn ya."  
  
In retrospect, Dean thought that he really shouldn't have hesitated to show them the DVD. The twin looks of horror and disbelief on Michael and Raphael's faces were priceless whereas Castiel's curious little head tilt made him wonder what exactly was going through his lover's mind. Maybe he was glad to know that he wasn't the first angel to have enjoyed sex so much, or maybe Gabriel's performance was giving him ideas. Although he had no interest in watching the former Trickster doing  _that_ , Casa Erotica 13 was one of his favorites and it did have some interesting positions in it, even if Mikey and Raph seemed completely unable to appreciate that particular fact.


	39. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean manages to find trouble while out hustling.

**PAST**  
  
  
"Sorry, but I'm already with someone."  
  
Although he'd been using that line or one quite similar to it for a while now whenever he got hit on at a bar while hustling or just winding down with a beer or two, Dean still wasn't used to it. It went against a lifetime's worth of habit but, while he still flirted in return if it was clearly harmless enjoyment without any further intent, it had now become standard. And really, it was all worth it for the look that had been on his lover's face when Castiel had overheard him saying it when he'd been unaware of the angel's presence until turning around. This time, however, it didn't seem to be enough which kinda surprised Dean as most women seemed to take an existing relationship as more than enough to steer clear of him. This chick, though, was smoking hot and probably just wasn't used to being turned down and he knew that before he'd have been all over her at the first sign of interest in him. Now, however, all he could do was appreciate her beauty as the rest left him cold. He wasn't even so much as tempted, the mere thought of cheating on Castiel making him feel physically ill.  
  
None of which seemed to make the least bit of difference to her as Dean could see her still watching him out of the corner of his eye. Every so often, she'd adjust her position to get the best view possible as he leaned over the pool table to take a shot and it was starting to make him feel uncomfortable. Even he'd never been so persistent in light of such obvious rejection. Sex had always been all about having a good time for him and there were more than enough people to leave those alone who weren't interested, or in a relationship. That was one boundary he'd always respected, the only one his father had insisted upon when he'd first started showing an interest in sex. He was so distracted by the continued unwanted attention that he nearly lost the game and he was forced to turn down the offer for a rematch even though he could really use the money. His head wasn't with it and he knew when to quit.  
  
He made a beeline for the men's room, hoping she'd wander off if he stayed there a while. Dean felt kind of pathetic doing it, but he didn't always know what to do when it came to humans. Give him a supernatural creature that was harming people and he knew precisely what to do, but humans? He knew that they pulled some crazy shit at times, but he didn't really have the first clue what to do with them if they weren't actively trying to kill him or anyone else. More then once, he'd simply tied them up and left them for the cops to deal with, but he couldn't exactly do that in this case. He could only hope that she'd either lose interest or leave him alone in face of his continued refusal. If worst came to worst, he supposed he could call Castiel and prove exactly how not interested he was, but he'd rather avoid that if at all possible given the jealousy issues his lover had already displayed at the start of their relationship and then again recently with the reminder of his previous relationship with Lisa. He didn't really know if those had gotten even worse and he didn't want to test that this way.  
  
To his relief, Dean couldn't immediately spot her when he came out of the men's room and he quickly made his escape. Outside, he breathed a sigh of relief and walked the short distance to his motel. Despite getting away, he still felt oddly restless, so much so that it took him three tries to get his key into the lock. The hair at the back of his neck prickled too late and he turned around only to be pinned against the door as she was suddenly there, invading his personal space.  
  
"Hello again, Gorgeous, did you really think you'd lost me that easily?"  
  
Creature, he finally realized, instincts kicking in far too late and he found he couldn't really do anything. He was in thrall, Dean realized, cursing himself for not noticing it earlier. Before he could even begin to try and fight it off her lips was on his, kissing him and her tongue swept into his mouth as her hand on his jaw forced it open. He could taste something passing into his mouth and it hit his blood right away, rapidly clouding his mind. He was only dimly aware of her one hand sliding down to the small of is back, relieving him of his gun, while the other turned the knob, opening the door and making him fall backwards into the room. He must have broken the salt line as he fell as she followed him in, shutting the door behind her.  
  
"Ha! I knew you were a hunter," she crowed triumphantly. "I haven't had one of you before."  
  
"Still not interested, Bitch!"  
  
That gave her pause and Dean used the opportunity to try and regain his senses somewhat. He hated fucking sirens or succubi or whatever the hell she was with her goddamn mind control shit. Or more like hormone control, he realized as he felt arousal flood through him, hardening his cock so fast it was physically painful and he latched onto the pain to help him clear his head somewhat. It wasn't enough, though, not by a long shot and before he could do anything, she was lowering herself onto him, straddling his hips.  
  
"We'll see about that, Pretty," she purred, running her hands over his chest. "So perfect, I'm glad now that I missed the other hunter as you were worth waiting for."  
  
"Fuck you!"  
  
"That's the whole point, Gorgeous. Now, come on, you know you want me."  
  
The venom or liquid arousal or whatever the hell it was burned hot and fast through Dean's veins and it was so tempting to just give into it and what she was offering. To just let himself go and bury his cock balls deep in her, but he fought it off. No, this was  _not_  what he wanted and he wouldn't give into her.  
  
"No, I really don't."  
  
Her face turned ugly for a moment, briefly revealing her true form before it returned a more normal pouty expression. "Come on, Darling, whoever she is, you don't like her that much."  
  
"Yes, I do," Dean declared, not bothering to correct her, but clinging to the image and memory of Castiel.  
  
"You think she can give you what I can?"  
  
She rolled her hips and Dean couldn't help but moan at the pressure and heat on his throbbing cock, even through the layers of clothing separating them. He felt ready to burst at the slightest touch but knew it didn't work that way. Although he didn't know exactly what she was, he did know that all of the likely candidates fed off of sexual energy and rode their victims long and hard before sucking them dry after they'd finally come. And, even if he could fight off her influence long enough to kill her, he'd still be screwed as she'd gotten her poison into him. But that was getting ahead of himself as, at the moment, he couldn't so much as raise a finger against her.  
  
"I can make it better for you than you've ever had it before. Just think, someone who's had decades to perfect their technique."  
  
"Thanks, but I think I'll pass."  
  
Permission, she seemed to be asking for it, or no, not permission, admission. She needed a foothold, Dean realized, something with which to worm her way deeper into him as her venom alone didn't seem to be working. He pulled his lips into a caricature of a smile at that, though it cost him dearly. He took heart from the fact that if he could just keep fighting her that she wouldn't be able to get what she needed from him. But then what? He doubted she'd just leave him and she probably had all night and, unless Castiel happened to drop by, he didn't have any backup.  
  
 _Shit._  
  
"What? Do you love her, is that it?" she wheedled.  
  
"Yes."  
  
The word was out of Dean's mouth before he'd even thought about it and it shocked him to his very core. He  _loved_  Castiel. Suddenly everything took on a surreal edge and a nuke could have gone off in the room and he'd never have noticed it. That was how deeply shaken he was just then. Logically he knew that love didn't just sneak up on someone, that it had to build and grow, to flourish, but it seemed to have done so in some hidden part of him that he was unaware of as this was the first that he knew of it. Yeah, he'd known that he'd come to care for Cas more then he had about anyone else he'd slept with, but still...  _love_? That just seemed so huge and unbelievable and yet it was true. Now that he thought about it, he knew it right down to his very bones and it scared the living shit out of him.  
  
Love like this was not a good thing, not for him. Dean wanted to shove it aside and bury it and pretend that he'd never realized it, but he already knew he wouldn't be able to. If he hadn't been able to ignore his sexual attraction to Castiel, then how could he possibly hope to ignore  _this_?  
  
"You do?" she demanded, clearly caught off-guard before she laughed. "How lovely, a hunter in love. So, what, you think you can protect her from all of the big bad out there that'll come after you?"  
  
Cas, Cas, Cas, Cas. Dean hoped that if he thought about his lover enough, he'd be able to fight off this thrall she had over him long enough to kill her. He could worry about what to do with his newfound knowledge and the aftereffects of her poison later, he just needed to concentrate on killing her first.  
  
"Doesn't need... protection," Dean managed to force out.  
  
She tried to kiss him again, but Dean turned his head away and she satisfied herself by licking and biting his ear instead. "Does she love you, this girl of yours?"  
  
Dean nearly snorted at the very thought. An angel in love with a human, yeah, he wasn't that stupid. Sure, his lover clearly cared about him, but love? He wasn't going to flatter himself. The thought had hardly even occurred to him before the arousal swamped his mind, rushing in over his suddenly weakened defenses. A part of him cried out in protest as he turned back to face her, his mouth seeking hers out for a hungry, brutal kiss, but it was lost in the haze now shrouding his mind. One hand came up to grab the back of her neck, while his other wrapped around her waist, holding her down as he ground up against her, moaning helplessly.  
  
His whole world was reduced to a haze of  _need, want, lust_  so all-consuming that Dean felt dizzy with it all. He was so hard and he wanted it so bad that it hurt and all he was aware of was the warm body on top of him, holding him down and teasing him.  _More_. He needed more, now, but his attempts to turn them over were thwarted and he whined.  
  
"Shh, not so fast, Pretty," a voice told him. "I want to savor this."  
  
This wasn't right. The thought came to Dean out of nowhere and he wanted to ignore it, to focus on his need and on the pleasure-pain, to get what he needed and wanted so bad, but he couldn't. This was important, he just didn't know why. The feel of hands on his bare skin as his shirt was removed nearly derailed the thought, but ultimately just added to it. Something was wrong about those hands too, they were so small. Too small. The feel of a hot mouth on his nipple made him buck and cry out, dislodging the body atop him briefly and he nearly managed to turn them before he was pushed back down again. No, this was wrong. Very wrong.  
  
The feeling solidified when he caught sight of cold brown eyes. They shouldn't be brown, Dean thought, they should be blue. Warm and blue, not cold and brown. Warm and blue and  _Castiel_! The memory was like a sudden jolt to his system, but it wasn't enough to penetrate the haze clouding his mind and he still felt himself responding to her. No, stop, wrong! He struggled to regain control but couldn't quite make it. Cas! Cas, Cas, Cas, Cas! He screamed the name in his mind, but it was no use, his angel couldn't hear him as he was hidden. Hidden by the sigils Cas had given him. Cas, Cas, Cas.  
  
Castiel!  
  
Her hands slid down his chest towards his pants and Dean struggled all the harder in his mind. No, bad! Bad and no and wrong. Wrong! That was it, wrong. The thought confused him and distracted him. Cas, Cas, Cas. Wrong. Cas, wrong? No, creature, woman, wrong, bad. So why Cas and wrong? She pulled at the buckle, starting to loosen his belt. No! Need angel.  
  
Oh! That was it. Not Cas wrong. But Cas wrong angel. To call. Not call Cas, Cas couldn't hear. Angel. Vessel. Angel to vessel bond. Sigils can't hide, not if called. So Cas wrong angel to call. Call... other angel. Vessely one. Dean's brow furrowed as he tried to recall the other angel. Not Cas angel, other angel. His belt was loosened and worked open and that sent another spike of panic and dread through him and then he had it.  
  
"Michael!"  
  
His voice had come out hardly louder than a lust filled croak and he could only hope it would be enough.  
  



	40. Chapter 39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Did Dean manage to summon Michael or not?

**PAST**  
  
  
"Who's Michael, Gorgeous?" she demanded, nibbling on his ear. "He someone who you think can protect you? No one can save you now, you're mine."  
  
She ground down on him again and Dean was lost in the fog of desire and arousal clouding his mind. He keened and mewled pitifully, desperate for release. Then there was a screech above him, a new voice that sounded familiar and suddenly the weight atop him was just gone. He whined pathetically, wanting it back,  _needing_  it back, but then the part of him that had broken through before was back.  
  
Cas!  
  
No, wrong, bad. Castiel, he needed his angel. The next pair of hands that touched his were larger than the creature's but they were still wrong and he rocked back with a cry. No! Bad, wrong. Cas. Cas, Cas, Cas, Cas! No one else, just Castiel. His. His angel, his lover,  _his_  Cas. But the  _need, arousal, lust_  was building and he was afraid that he'd lose himself again and take anyone. He whined in distress and tried to roll himself into a ball for protection and to keep others- bad!- away. He thought he heard his name called but the voice was wrong, bad.  
  
"Cas," Dean managed to moan.  
  


* * *

  
' _Brother, Dean needs you. Now._ '  
  
That had been all Michael needed to say for Castiel to abandon his task and fly towards his brother at once. It took him only a few seconds to assess the motel room he'd landed in, but what he found caused fury to explode to life within him. His mate was curled into a protective ball, whimpering and keening in distress at the foot of the bed. His brother was crouched on the ground about a yard away, looking more hesitant then he'd ever seen him before, which could only mean that his own attempts to help had been solidly rebuffed. On the floor across the room, about as far away from Dean was it was possible to get in the small space, was the burned-out husk of what to any human would appear to be a regular woman. To him, however, she was so much more, a copniry succubus and an incredibly powerful one based on the pheromones weighing down the air. Also in evidence were a broken salt line at the door and Dean's favored pearl handled Colt, the latter of which was carelessly discarded on the floor.  
  
It hardly took a genius to figure out what had transpired here, especially with his mate topless and it was all that Castiel could do not to completely incinerate the creature's corpse. Instead, he cleaned the air with a thought to prevent Dean from breathing in any more of the pheromones.  
  
"Castiel, he won't let me touch him," Michael stated, rising to his feet.  
  
With three strides, Castiel was at Dean's side and reaching out to touch him. At first his mate froze and he was just starting to wonder if he'd made a mistake before Dean launched himself at him and he had an armful of only partially aware, but heavily aroused human who was also shaking with adrenaline and fear.  
  
"Cas, Cas, Cas, Cas," Dean muttered, barely audible.  
  
His mate then proceeded to bury his face into his clothing, trembling a few times before seeming to settle somewhat. Castiel looked down at him with a frown, very able to sense how heavily drugged and doused Dean was with venom and not liking it in the slightest. As it was, it was a miracle that the hunter had been able to surface from the creature's thrall long enough to realize that something was wrong, much less to formulate a plan to call for help and let alone follow it through. Well, if that was what had happened.  
  
"He called you?" Castiel questioned, pained that his mate hadn't been able to summon him when he so desperately needed help, but glad that there had been at least one option available to him.  
  
"If you can call it that, yes," Michael replied. "It was more a wave of chaotic emotions, half of which I couldn't even understand, but the desperation and fear were enough for me to realize exactly how serious the situation was."  
  
Not that a call from Dean wouldn't have had his brother rushing to his side anyway, Castiel knew. The bond between a vessel and their angel was strong for many angels, but for archangels who only had a very limited number of true vessels over the course of the millennia, it was that much stronger. On top of which was the fact that Michael had been trying to gain their trust and the fact that Dean had never summoned him before. So, all together, it had been pretty much guaranteed that a call to Michael would summon help for his mate. He was just amazed that the hunter had managed to do so given how heavily poisoned he was.  
  
Castiel felt another surge of love and admiration for his mate as he gently stroked the back of his head, trying to calm the remaining fear. That Dean was aware of who he was- or wasn't as evidenced by Michael's rejection- was even more amazing and it warmed him greatly. Those more positive emotions helped him to control the sheer rage that still swirled within him at the creature and what had so nearly happened. As if his mate hadn't already gone through enough in the past and didn't have enough to deal with now, he still got something like this added to his burdens.  
  
Glancing up at his brother to ask for advice, he found Michael frowning down at Dean and something about his expression set him on edge.  
  
"What?" Castiel demanded.  
  
"That was a copniry succubus."  
  
"Yes, and?"  
  
"Copniry succubi need an opening in order to get a human to the point he is now."  
  
Ah, of course. Michael was right, naturally, and since he didn't know Dean as well as Castiel did, he was drawing the wrong conclusions from the evidence he had available to him. He didn't begrudge his brother the mistake, though, as he knew well how difficult his mate could be to understand. If he'd never held Dean's soul in his own hands, he didn't think he'd know him nearly as well as he did. Even as it was, there were still times when he felt like he hardly knew the hunter at all. In some ways it was part of the attraction, the complex and multifaceted soul that could always surprise and amuse him, but at other times it was frustrating. He could easily understand why Michael found it so hard to understand the man who'd been destined to be his vessel.  
  
"Yes, they do."  
  
"Yet he is supposed to be with you," Michael stated. "Does it not bother you, this sign that he has doubts?"  
  
"No, because I do not think that it was his feelings for me that let her in."  
  
"I do not understand. You care for him deeply, have done things for him that defied logical thought and explanation, how could it possibly be your feelings for him that let her gain a foothold in his mind?"  
  
"Because Dean has very little sense of self-worth." Michael merely continued to look at him without understanding, so Castiel elaborated. "He does not think that he deserves anything good that happens to him. He thinks that what he did in Hell has tainted him forever and looks at anything good with suspicion."  
  
"He believes himself unworthy of you?"  
  
"Yes. Though Dean does not think highly of angels overall, he still seems to class those of us he does like as far outside of his reach."  
  
"That does not make any sense."  
  
"It is one of the many complexities of Dean Winchester. I fear that he may think that I cannot like him as much as I do as he does not see himself as deserving of that kind of emotion."  
  
"Even after all that you have done for him?" Michael questioned.  
  
"He would say that I did it for humanity as a whole and because it was right."  
  
"But you did not."  
  
"Not all of the time, no." The considering look on his brother's face was a major step forwards and Castiel was glad for it, even as he turned his thoughts towards his mate. "I have seen you looking at his soul."  
  
"It is unbelievably bright. I do not think I have seen another that matches it."  
  
"Famine told him he was immune to him because there was nothing inside of him, that he was empty and broken."  
  
Michael's face darkened as Castiel had expected it would.  
  
"He believes this?"  
  
"That and worse. He used to think he only had tattered remnants of it left, sullied and more demonized than anything else. I have done my best to remedy this situation, but it is difficult as he truly believes this."  
  
"I see. Thank you for telling me this, Brother."  
  
"You saved him and I believe you can help me make him come to view himself as he truly is."  
  
"I shall try."  
  
Dean's fists tightened in his clothing and Castiel could feel a change overcoming his mate. As his fear had faded, so had his ability to cling to whatever it was that had allowed him to fight off the creature's thrall for as long as he had. Now his control was crumbling and the venom was reasserting itself over his mate. He took it as a compliment, that Dean felt safe enough in his arms for his control to slip so far from his grasp. That reminded him of his initial question for his brother.  
  
"Can you banish the venom? I have never tried to remove something that has wound itself so tightly around a human mind before."  
  
"It is possible," Michael stated, stepping closer. "But it would be a very difficult and painful procedure and there are risks, especially given how aware he is of angelic powers. He might sense the intrusion and misconstrue it as something harmful, which would cause him to resist it."  
  
Castiel's hands tightened protectively on Dean's body. "What is the alternative?"  
  
"To let it runs its course. You are his mate and I doubt he would mind."  
  
"Would that not harm him?"  
  
"Not without the succubus there to drain his life energy from him or to draw out the effects of the poison. The venom itself is merely a tool to render the succubi irresistible to their victims, the rest is all the succubi themselves."  
  
"Very well."  
  
With a final nod, Michael vanished, taking the corpse of the creature with him. Castiel shifted his hold on his mate, the whine of protest Dean made making him wish once more that he'd been able to be the one that had saved his hunter and killed the succubus.  
  
"Cas, Cas, Cas, Cas."  
  
The continued chanting of his name, steadily getting more desperate caused the fury to rise within Castiel once more. His mate was all but totally gone under the venom, his eyes glazed and unseeing and his body reacting widely to every small touch. While it was true that Dean's trust touched him deeply, he didn't like the fact that his hunter was so out of it as to hardly even be aware of his surroundings and what was going on. If there had been a safe way to remove the venom from his system, he'd have chosen that way in a heartbeat, but there was no way he was risking Dean for his own comfort with the situation.  
  
Now that he had a better grip, Castiel rose to his feet easily, cradling his mate close to him before he lowered him onto the bed. It was in doing so that he noticed Dean's belt had been unbuckled and he felt another wave of fury wash over him, mixed with fear at exactly how close it had been. If his hunter hadn't been able to reach out to Michael... The possibility was too horrific to truly contemplate and he was merely thankful that it was only one of those 'what if' scenarios he'd discussed with Sam once. Then he pulled back a bit, so that with a twist of his Grace their clothes were gone, but the brief lack of contact had resulted in pitiful keening and mewling that had him simultaneously experiencing heartache and fury.  
  
Without another moment's hesitation, he lowered himself atop his mate.  
  


* * *

  
The  _need, want, lust_  was almost all that Dean knew, only a tiny fraction of his mind aware of the touch, warmth and scent that enveloped him.  
  
"Cas, Cas, Cas, Cas."  
  
When it suddenly vanished, every part of him cried out for more, his whole world thrown into disarray and panic. Quickly, however, it returned and he moaned in relief and satisfaction at the feel of so much naked skin pressing up against his own. It drove him wild, so good and yet not enough, never enough. He bucked up into Cas, wanting more,  _needing_  him, and touching him everywhere he could. He also latched onto the nearest available surface of skin he could find with his mouth and started to  _lick, suck, bite_. It tasted Heavenly and he looked for more, protesting when his head was pulled away from his treat but then mewling when Cas' mouth found his.  
  
Pleasure was sizzling along his nerves from every point where Dean touched his Cas and he loved it but wanted  _more_. "Cas! Cas, Cas, Cas, please!"  
  
"Shh."  
  
The soothing sound reached him, but all the rest was lost to the haze in his mind and he keened when Cas touched his cock, taking it in hand and stroking it from root to tip. The touch was unexpectedly cool and Dean whined in confusion even as his hips continued to thrust through those delicious fingers until they vanished. Before he could protest, though, they were replaced with something else, a heat that threatened to burn him up and then there was tightness and he tried to thrust up, further into it, but couldn't. His hips were pinned to the bed and he cried out in dismay, but it turned to sounds of delight as the rest of his cock was slowly engulfed in the glorious heat until he was completely sheathed in it. More, more, more, move, move, move.  
  
"Cas, Cas, Cas, Cas."  
  
When he was finally allowed to move, Dean nearly cried in relief, keening as he began to thrust, mouth once again taken in a kiss. All thoughts left him but for the  _need, want, lust_  and pleasure as it sizzled and sang through his veins as he writhed and thrust beneath the angel atop him. It all built within him until it was just pleasure/pain and then he was coming, awareness shattering and scattering away from him.


	41. Chapter 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after the attack.

**PAST**  
  
  
Consciousness returned to Dean slowly as it did so often lately. As a result, he didn't immediately worry or realize that something wasn't right. When he did, it was to notice that the haze around his mind wasn't due to slowly receding sleep, but rather as a result of a drug. The realization caused panic to flare deep in his gut and he immediately started to struggle against it, trying desperately to recall what had happened.  
  
"Shh, it's okay, Dean, shh," Castiel's voice suddenly penetrated the haze as fingers carted softly through his hair.  
  
Dean was surprised at how quickly he reacted, the terror vanishing almost immediately. He still fought to wake up as it was obvious that something had gone wrong, but his lover's presence clearly indicated that any danger had passed. Then two fingers touched his forehead and the haze cleared, allowing him to open his eyes. When he did so, it was to look right into Castiel's as the angel was leaning over him, observing him with a slight frown on his face.  
  
"What happened?" Dean inquired, still not able to remember much.  
  
A careful check of his body led him to the discovery that while he wasn't hurt- an unlikely possibility given his lover's penchant for healing any and all injuries he had, no matter how small-, he ached pleasantly in a very familiar way. He'd had sex recently, vigorous sex and, based on where he  _didn't_  ache, he'd topped. Although it wasn't his first time not remembering having had sex, it was his first with Castiel and he didn't like that. At all. It wasn't just about having a good time with his angel and he didn't like the thought that he might have done something or taken something that would have affected his memory.  
  
He blinked at the thought. Dean had been serious when he'd told Castiel that he'd drink less and, so far, had not only managed to keep his promise, but planned to keep doing so. So what the hell else could have made him lose time like that? Especially since he'd done something so good as having sex? If he'd woken up without the pleasant muscle aches, he'd have thought it was the result of a hunt gone bad, but he just couldn't see his angel allowing him to distract him with sex if that was the case. Most especially if he'd been drugged or poisoned somehow.  
  
"You don't remember," Castiel stated.  
  
The mixed look of relief and concern on his angel's face worried Dean even more. What could possibly be good about him not remembering what had happened? Surely it couldn't have been  _that_  bad.  
  
"Cas, what happened?"  
  
Castiel looked unhappy, as if he'd rather not tell him, but Dean could already detect resignation on his face as well. It made his heart clench and a wave of what he now recognized as love to wash over him at how well his lover knew him. If it had been Sam or Bobby in Castiel's place, he knew he'd have to beg or cajole to get the full story out of them regardless of the fact that it had happened to him and he had a right to know about it. They had no right to make those kinds of decisions for him. His angel, though, knew him well enough not to do so even if perhaps he wanted to. The desire to protect him didn't go unnoticed and it warmed him on a level he didn't really want to look too closely at, new revelation or not.  
  
The thought froze him in his mental tracks and Dean's eyes opened wide and the breath caught in his throat as he thought back over his internal musings. New revelation. Wave of love.  _What the hell?_  His breathing sped up all of a sudden as bits and pieces of the previous evening came rushing back to him. The bar where he'd gone to hustle pool. The stunning chick who hadn't taken no for an answer. His fleeing to the bathroom. The thrall. The burning  _need, want, lust_  that had risen within him and seemed to consume him whole. The absolutely desperate urge to fuck someone,  _anyone_. This last filled him with cold, horror and dread, nearly choking him as he remembered having her on top of him, undoing his belt, followed swiftly by the memory of having someone riding him.  
  
The memories at the end were all blurry though, no more than half-remembered images and fragments, so a lot of it was unclear and hazy to the point that he didn't actually know  _who_  he'd fucked and that caused panic to flare in his gut once more.  
  
"Oh, God!" Dean said, completely forgetting not to blaspheme before his angel. "Cas, tell me I didn't- shit, fuck. Just..."  
  
"Dean-"  
  
"Please tell me I didn't cheat on you!"  
  
Castiel's face became fierce and a hand shot out to grab his chin so that Dean couldn't turn his head away. Couldn't do anything but meet his lover's eye and crap, but he hated it sometimes that his angel knew him so well.  
  
"You were in thrall and poisoned with her venom, Dean," Castiel started. "It would not have been cheating if you had lain with her. It would have been rape."  
  
Even though his eyes were wide at the absolute conviction, fierceness and underlying rage in Castiel's voice, Dean didn't miss the keywords in his speech.  _Would have been._  It was amazing and damn near unbelievable, the sheer relief those words managed to produce within him and he deflated back onto the bed. Now that his panic had bled away, he realized that not only were they both naked, but they were laying on top of the sheets, a sure sign that they'd fallen into bed quite frantic.  
  
"How much do you remember?"  
  
"Just bits and pieces," Dean replied. "Everything's pretty clear up to getting back to the room, but then it starts to get patchy."  
  
"She had you in thrall at least long enough to douse you with her venom."  
  
"Yeah, I know, I didn't realize what she was until far too late. Thought she was just a human, someone who didn't want to take no for an answer."  
  
"She approached you before the attack?"  
  
Castiel's word choice wasn't lost on Dean, but he chose to let it go, not wanting to argue about it now. "Yeah, at the bar where I was hustling," somehow it was important to add in that latter detail as he didn't want his lover to think he'd been out drinking, not after what he'd promised. "Thought she was just another chick. Stupid, fucking, rookie mistake!"  
  
"Enough, Dean," Castiel commanded firmly. "She was a copniry succubus and they are experts at blending in. Without a trail of victims, you had no way of knowing what she was."  
  
"I'm a hunter, dammit, I should be able to tell a creature from a human!"  
  
"Dean-"  
  
"She knew what I was!" The words were out of his mouth as soon as the memory came to him. "Fuck, I wish I could remember it all." Not only did he hate not knowing what had happened to him, but he knew something important had transpired. Something that had put the word 'love' into his head. "What happened to her anyway? Did you drop by just in time to rescue me?"  
  
"No, you saved yourself, really."  
  
"Huh? I know that I can't remember all of it, Cas, but I know I was in no condition to do anything."  
  
"You shouldn't have been," Castiel corrected. "Not with the amount of venom in your system and the pheromones in the air. Yet despite that, you managed to stay coherent enough to realize how to summon help and then to do so."  
  
The words stirred another vague memory, but it wasn't enough for him. He wanted more, he  _needed_  more. "Michael? I called Michael?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"He killed her?"  
  
"Yes, and then he summoned me when you wouldn't let him help you. That was something else you shouldn't have been able to do, differentiate between people and show a preference, but you did."  
  
The words allowed Dean to relax enough to actually close his eyes and he tried desperately to remember more of what had happened. The memories, though, refused to come and it frustrated him to no end. He must have made a face as there was a sigh above him before fingers brushed his forehead. Something seemed to click in his mind and everything came rushing back to him, but it wasn't like his Hell flashbacks that had at times seemed to be a literal reliving of the events. Though he now recalled everything that had happened to him last night, it all had some distance to it so it didn't overwhelm him as it otherwise might have.  
  
Grateful beyond words, Dean surged up to kiss his lover, trying to convey his thanks to Castiel in the only way that he could. What started out fevered and borderline frantic as he sought to show his lover the depth of his feelings slowly mellowed and became far slower, but also far more tender. The change reminded him of his realization and he struggled to focus on it even as his angel's nearness and nakedness threatened to rob him of all rational thought. Despite that, it  _fit_  so well that he couldn't believe how he'd missed it all before; how he'd managed to delude himself into thinking it was anything less than what it truly was.  
  
When Castiel pulled back so that he could breathe, Dean struggled to do so, all of his attention focused so completely on his lover. Wonder and awe filled him as he never thought he'd ever be able to really love someone the way his father had his mother or the way Sam had clearly loved Jess. But there was also fear, it pulsed hard and fast beneath all of the other emotions, but no less strong because of that. He'd seen the way his father and brother had ended up because of their love and that had been when Mom and Jess had been snatched from them. How much worse would it be for him when Castiel left voluntarily to go back to Heaven?  
  
"I'm sorry," Castiel said suddenly, voice gone grave.  
  
Dean blinked in confusion, frowning as he tried to figure out what had just happened and where the mood had gone. "what?"  
  
Although they both could stop instantly if the need arose- their close encounter down in Mississippi when Castiel had surprised him outside a bar for one only for them to nearly be interrupted by a group leaving the bar- neither of them had ever turned off so fast before for no apparent reason. Dean didn't like this change of events in the slightest and felt a deep pang of hurt at it.  
  
"If I had realized how poorly you understood my feelings for you, I would have remedied the situation far sooner."  
  
And what? Dean was totally lost now, completely unable to follow what his lover was trying to say. "Uh, Cas? What do you mean? I know you like me."  
  
Apparently that was the wrong thing to say as Castiel's face tightened and Dean tried desperately to figure out how he'd fucked it up now. He'd never been good with words and that was why he hated chick flick moments with such a vengeance; he inevitably said the wrong thing and pissed someone off without intending to do so at all. Sam, in particular, had always seemed frustrated and annoyed with him at those times.  
  
"Why can you never see yourself for what you truly are?" Castiel questioned in frustration.  
  
"Uh... is this about the succubus? Because I know I fucked up there."  
  
"No, Dean, you didn't. The fault was mine."  
  
"Yours? How the hell do you figure that?" Dean demanded, anger flickering to life within him. " _I'm_  the one that was weak enough to give her the opening she needed."  
  
"And I am the reason why that opening existed. If I had only made sure that you knew how I felt about you, she would not have been able to rob you of your reason."  
  
"Cas?"  
  
Dean didn't like the uncertainty even he could detect in his own voice, but he couldn't help it. Castiel clearly disagreed with his assessment of the angel's feelings for him and that caused fear to rise within him. Had he been wrong to think that his lover cared for him? Surely he hadn't gotten that wrong. He couldn't imagine that he had, not after everything that had transpired between them, but what else could his angel mean?  
  
"Dean, I love you."  
  
Those four words were enough to completely freeze Dean in his tracks, leaving him to stare at Castiel in shock and disbelief. "I- you-  _what_?!"  
  
Anger briefly flickered in Castiel's eyes, but it was gone again almost just as quickly and Dean had no brain cells free to even think about trying to process that. All of them were still stuck on his lover's declaration, completely unable to process it. It was as if his entire ability to think had just shut down completely and gone offline for an indeterminate amount of time.  
  
"I don't merely like or care for you, Dean, I love you," Castiel said slowly and carefully, pronouncing each word separately as if afraid that he would miss them.  
  
Despite that, Dean was still no more able to process or comprehend them then he was earlier. He felt like he was in shock, the meaning of the words far too big and significant for him to take them in. What it would mean... They changed everything in a way that he wasn't yet able to deal with and thus his mind rejected them. Refuted them as impossible even in light of the fact that he couldn't think of a single instance in which his lover had lied to him about something like this. Time ticked by as he struggled to find a way to react and restart his mind and-  
  
"I love you," Dean stated before he even realized he was going to speak.  
  
Castiel's face softened and a hand came up to touch his face. "I know."  
  
He knew? How the hell could his lover know that when he himself hadn't known? Dean felt himself adrift in a wash of emotions and truths he wasn't sure how to deal with or take in and it was a wonder that he didn't begin to panic or feel the need to start spouting off hurtful and defensive words as he tried to raise one of his fallen shields. He found it next to impossible to conjure up those emotions, though, his mind and body far too used to the safety and security Castiel offered for them to kick in now when another threat was so clearly lacking.  
  
The silence was just starting to stretch out too far when the sudden, unexpected flutter of wings had Dean's eyes darting towards the sound, senses instantly going on full alert. The only angel he completely trusted was already in the room with him and thus the sound was cause for caution at the very least. Michael's sudden appearance in the room had him relaxing just before he recalled his and Castiel's naked state and self-consciousness kicked in. His face flushed and he tried to roll away so he could scramble about for some clothing when his lover's hands stopped him.  
  
"Dean, it's okay, he cannot see you," Castiel declared.  
  
"What do you mean he can't see me? He's right there!"  
  
"I have extended my wing to cover you."  
  
The words caught Dean so off-guard that he could only stare at his lover, mouth hanging open, for a few seconds. "You- what?"  
  
"I am covering you with my wing, he cannot see anything other than your head."  
  
Dean's eyes darted back towards Michael, desperately seeking some hint of what his angel was saying, but finding absolutely none. There wasn't even so much as a shadow to be seen and it filled him with a sudden aching sense of loss though, logically, he knew that he hadn't lost anything. It was a sharp reminder that Castiel was neither human nor able to share his true form with him and it both saddened and hurt him in a way he hadn't imagined was possible. It also caused a sudden fierce longing to really see and know his lover as he truly was instead of filtered via a human vessel, though he knew it wasn't possible. Out of nowhere he wondered if he could convince Castiel to show him his true form and for his angel to then heal the resulting damage afterwards, but he sincerely doubted he'd be able to talk his lover into doing that even if he begged for it.  
  
The moment seemed to pass when he suddenly found himself clothed once more and Castiel shifted on the bed, turning his attention towards his brother. Despite that, Dean carefully filed the knowledge and his reactions to it away for further contemplation when he had the time. Right after he thought of the other stuff first.  
  
"The venom is gone, I see," Michael stated, face curiously closed off for him.  
  
"Yes," Castiel confirmed.  
  
And what? Dean shook his head a little, hoping to force aside all of the thoughts and realizations that were overwhelming him in order to focus on what was happening now. "Huh?"  
  
"The succubus' venom was still in your system when I left before," Michael explained.  
  
"Oh, you get rid of it, Cas?" Dean asked.  
  
"We were unable to remove it in the manner you mean," Castiel replied. "You were too far gone under its influence to recognize that we intended to help and therefore you would probably have resisted, resulting in you being damaged and hurt."  
  
"So how'd you get rid of it?" Before either angel could answer, Dean's eyes widened as he suddenly got it. "Oh, wait, you mean...?"  
  
"Yes, Dean."  
  
"Ah, I see."  
  
Unable to help himself, Dean's eyes darted to Michael, expecting to find either fury and disgust- or both- on his face, but he couldn't detect traces of either emotion. Instead the archangel's expression was blank and nonjudgmental, a fact which really surprised him.  
  
"Was there something you needed, Brother?" Castiel asked.  
  
"No, I merely realized that you did not know how to make an exception to the sigils cloaking Dean from our sight and thought it best to rectify the situation as quickly as possible."  
  
"An exception?" Dean questioned, right hand automatically coming up to touch his chest.  
  
"Yes. It is possible to adjust the sigils so that specific angels are still able to find you."  
  
"How?" Castiel demanded, rising to his feet.  
  
"It would be easier to show you. If Dean does not object."  
  
"To letting Cas know where I am?" Dean said. "No, of course not."  
  
He tilted his head consideringly, only realizing after he'd done it how Castiel-like of a thing it was to do (as if he didn't have enough things to think about later!). Michael had already stepped closer and placed a hand on his chest before Dean came to a decision.  
  
"Add yourself in there as well."  
  
Dean met his lover's eyes as he said it, wondering if he'd find disapproval, but Castiel merely nodded in agreement. Michael had proven himself as far as he was concerned and he was glad his angel agreed. Sure, the guy was still a bastard most of the time and infuriated him more often than not, but he'd definitely come through for him when he'd needed him the most and he figured it was the least he could do in return.  
  
The emotion that flashed through Michael's eyes was gone too quickly for Dean to decipher and the archangel was speaking before he could think to question it. "Raphael?"  
  
"No," Dean replied immediately.  
  
"Very well."  
  



	42. Chapter 41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rest of the meeting in the desert between Sam, Dean and the others.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
"The hell?" Samuel whispered questioningly.  
  
Sam shrugged. "It's a Dean and Cas thing, they used to do it all the time, sometimes for minutes on end."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I don't know. I just chalked it up as an angel thing along with Cas' complete inability to respect personal space."  
  
"I noticed that."  
  
The tone of his grandfather's voice nearly made Sam smile, but he stilled the impulse as it was completely inappropriate given the situation.  
  
"We haven't told you before as there was no reason for you to know," Michael suddenly declared.  
  
"No reason?" Christian repeated in disbelief, voice rising sharply. "How about so we could try and stop this fucking Apocalypse!"  
  
"We are already working on that and have no need for your... assistance, such as it is."  
  
The archangel's arrogant and dismissive tone alone would have angered Sam, but his brother' aborted laugh made it even worse. "Excuse me? In case you've forgotten, I've been involved in this from the start, unlike you."  
  
"Yes, and you have been such a big help. No, if this Apocalypse is going to be ended, it will be with Dean's assistance, not yours."  
  
"Oh for G- crying out loud! There you go again with all that prophecy bullshit, surely you've learned by now how worthless that is. Dean is br-"  
  
"You had better think very carefully about what you plan to say next, Sam Winchester," Castiel interrupted, his voice steel.  
  
"No, that's okay, Cas, I think I know exactly what he wants to say anyway," Dean replied. "What was it again? Oh, right, you didn't think I'd be up to the task, that I was too weak and couldn't make the tough decisions anymore. Well, guess what, Sam, I did make a tough decision, I chose to leave you out of this."  
  
"That's not true," Christian weighed in. "We would always have welcomed another hunter, especially one with your experience."  
  
"Oh, please," Dean scoffed, looking at his cousin. "You thought I'd be rusty and didn't want the help of a - what did you call me again? - oh, yeah, 'a master torturer'."  
  
"How the hell do you know about that?" Christian asked, stunned.  
  
The look Castiel threw Christian was about as smug as Sam had ever seen the angel. "I am more than capable of cloaking both my own presence and that of Dean from human perception."  
  
"You were spying on us?"  
  
"No, Dean merely wished to see his brother with his own two eyes after learning the truth. It was a very enlightening trip."  
  
That particular revelation threw Sam for another loop. At least it explained a number of the unanswered questions he'd had. The thought of Dean having been there for any of the discussions they'd had about him was unnerving. Just because that was what he thought of his older brother and what he'd needed to tell his family about him, didn't mean he wanted Dean to hear that. His brother took things far too personally.  
  
"If you don't think we can help you win the Apocalypse, then why did you call us here?" Samuel asked, getting to the heart of the matter.  
  
"To warn you," Michael stated.  
  
"About what?"  
  
"Good ol' Lucy," Dean answered. "Now that he's out, he'll be looking for a vessel again."  
  
The words froze Sam once more, the mere thought of the devil slipping inside him again too horrible to really think about. Once had been more than enough, he really didn't want to experience it again.  
  
"I won't let him in, I won't say yes," Sam declared.  
  
"You don't have a choice," Castiel replied. "You've already given him your permission, that's all he needs to take you whenever he wants."  
  
"What? Isn't there some way of nullifying that?" Samuel demanded.  
  
"There is, but it is a difficult and painful ritual to complete."  
  
"I'll do it," Sam stated without hesitation.  
  
"Very well, we shall collect all we need and come find you."  
  
"Good, but that's only the first part of why we're here," Dean said. "Mike says that-"  
  
"Mike? Mike!" Samuel exclaimed in disbelief, looking at the archangel. "You let him call you that?"  
  
Michael gave a long-suffering sigh and shot Dean an exasperated look. "No, but he persists in calling me that regardless."  
  
"And what, you're just going to let him get away with that?" Christian demanded.  
  
"He is my vessel," Michael replied with a shrug and Sam couldn't help but notice how human the archangel was, much more so than Castiel had ever been, even after nearly two years of interacting with humans. "In any case, it is preferable to the Mikey he started out with."  
  
Mickey? Sam nearly gaped at his brother in disbelief but was able contain the impulse just in time. The rest of his family wasn't and that alone told him all he needed to know about how well his grandfather knew his brother. Though Dean managed to catch him off-guard time and again with his complete irreverence, the fact that Dean felt the impulse to do so and then acted on it had long since ceased to surprise him. Of course his older brother would feel the need to nickname the oldest and possibly the strongest archangel after a children's cartoon mouse. No, what was surprising is that he had not only survived doing so, but had gotten said archangel to agree to another nickname in its stead.  
  
Dean snorted. "Oh, you know you like it."  
  
The words and teasing tone did make Sam gape this time. They were so casual and friendly, and spoke of a much deeper bond then he could possibly picture between Dean and Michael. Hell, the angel had just called his brother his vessel! Surely Dean wasn't just going to let him get away with that? And why on Earth wasn't Castiel all over his brother for those words? He'd definitely made his opinion on the matter clear to Dean when he'd been stupid enough to try saying yes to Michael.  
  
"But, as I was saying, Mike said that the rest of you need to be on guard as well as Lucifer may try you if he can't get at Sam," Dean said.  
  
"Wait, how would he be able to take them?" Bobby questioned. "You said it was a bloodline thing and they're not related to John."  
  
"No, the ability to be  _my_  vessel comes down from Abel through the Winchester bloodline to Dean," Michael explained. "That is how I was able to use both Adam and Deirdre be my vessels. The ability to house Lucifer, however, came to Sam via his mother. That runs through the Campbell bloodline."  
  
" _What?_ " Christian demanded in disbelief.  
  
The news had Sam looking at his grandfather and cousins in fear. When he'd first found them, he'd been so happy to have discovered that he not only had family he hadn't known about, but that they were ones completely unconnected to the whole Apocalypse fiasco. Apparently he'd been wrong, horribly so. Never once had it occurred to him that his ability to house Lucifer hadn't come from his father, not after Dean's little chat with Michael during their trip to the past.  
  
"With the exception of Bobby, you are all able to become vessels, though imperfect ones, for Lucifer," Castiel reiterated.  
  
"How?" Gwen asked, speaking up for the first time.  
  
"That's a question best posed to Sam, I think," Dean responded.  
  
"Michael, Castiel," it was the African-American man, or angel most likely.  
  
Sam's suspicions were confirmed when both Castiel and Michael turned towards him and seemed to hold an entirely silent conversation with the guy.  
  
"What?" Dean demanded, looking between the three angels.  
  
"We need to go," Castiel stated.  
  
Instead of arguing or demanding more information, Dean took one look at Castiel's eyes and nodded his assent. The action made Sam frown, not liking the trust his older brother was giving the angel so readily. True, in the past he'd trusted the little nerdy angel himself, but things had clearly changed since then. They were calmly standing there with  _Michael_  of all pe- angels! The king douchebag himself for whom Zachariah had worked and who'd tried to force Dean into becoming a puppet so his body could be used to kill millions of innocent people. Things had clearly gone horribly wrong here and his older brother needed saving from himself once more. This whole situation reminded him far too strongly of Ruby for his comfort, couldn't Dean see that? He'd been the one to try and warn Sam off of her in the first place. He supposed it was more difficult when the shoe was on the other foot.  
  
"Okay, let's blow this joint," Dean replied.  
  
"No, wai-" Sam began, but in the blink of an eye it was already too late.  
  
Dean, the three angels and the Impala were all just gone; disappearing into thin air without a trace.  
  
"The hell?" Christian exclaimed, looking around sharply. "What just happened?"  
  
"Angels can just appear and disappear like demons," Sam explained wearily. "They call it flying as they really do have wings, apparently."  
  
"And they can take humans with them?"  
  
"Yes, though it's not a particularly pleasant experience."  
  
"I've never seen them transport something as big as the Impala, though," Bobby said. "And none of them were even touching it."  
  
"Must be an archangel thing then, as you're right, Cas never seemed to be able to do any of that."  
  
"My question is what do we do now?" Samuel demanded. "How much do you two know about the Apocalypse and what we're supposed to expect?"  
  
"What don't we know about it would be a better bet," Bobby replied wearily. "We only spent two years researching it."  
  
"Yeah, but nothing we found said anything about this, of Lucifer being able to get out of his cage like this."  
  
"From the sounds of it, you altered things pretty thoroughly when you pulled Michael into that cage with Lucifer," Gwen stated. "I'm not sure there'd be anything out there that can help us anyway."  
  
"Not to mention the fact that we don't have much information on how he got out and what he's been up to since then," Mark added, speaking up for once.  
  
"What we need to do is get somewhere that we can organize all that we know and start coming up with a plan," Sam stated.  
  
"I take it we're not going to do as Dean wants then," Bobby concluded.  
  
"What, and just sit back and do nothing while the end of the world could be upon us? Come on, Bobby."  
  
"I was just checking, is all."  
  
"Do you really think it's a good idea to leave it to him seeing who Dean's hanging out with now?" Sam demanded, incredulous. "How long before Michael talks Dean into being his vessel, do you think?"  
  
"Castiel would never allow it, you saw what he did to Dean the last time he tried that."  
  
"What if he's changed his mind? What if Cas now thinks that Dean should do it? Dean wasn't the only one who'd lost almost all hope at the end there, if Cas were to think it was their only way, I don't think he'd hesitate for a moment to let Dean do it."  
  
"I think you're underestimating how much he cares for your brother."  
  
"What does that have to do with it? Michael's already promised to leave Dean fully functional, perhaps that's all Castiel cares about."  
  
"Stop, Sam, didn't you say that there was something like several million lives at stake here?" Samuel questioned. "That if Dean said yes and Michael defeated Lucifer that they'd still destroy half the planet in their fight?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Well then we can't take that risk," Christian declared. "Especially not with Dean in charge of making that choice."  
  
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Bobby demanded sharply.  
  
"Just that he doesn't seem to be the best hunter to begin with and then you've got all the added stuff from Hell. I just don't think you can trust anyone who's done some of the things he has, is all."  
  
"Christian," Samuel said warningly.  
  
Sam swallowed as Bobby turned a furious gaze his way. It had been quite a while since he'd seen the older hunter so enraged, not since he'd run Dad off his property with a loaded gun.  
  
"Sam Winchester, we need to talk. Now."  
  


* * *

  
"What?" Sam demanded the moment Bobby had dragged him far enough away from the others that he was sure they could no longer hear them.  
  
"What do you mean, what?" Bobby snapped back. "You know exactly what I've got a problem with, ya idjit."  
  
"Look, Bobby can we not do this now? We apparently have an Apocalypse to deal with again."  
  
"No, we are doing this now. How could you, Sam?"  
  
"How could I what?"  
  
"Betray your brother's trust like that?"  
  
"I didn't."  
  
"Then how does Christian know about what Dean did in Hell?"  
  
"I thought they had a right to know."  
  
"A right to know?!" Bobby exclaimed. "Your brother told you that in confidence, Sam Winchester! He told you that trusting that you wouldn't just go around telling other people."  
  
"They aren't just other people, they're family!"  
  
"Which almost makes it even worse."  
  
"Damnit, Bobby, they can be trusted."  
  
"Oh, and how long after you met them did you wait to tell them about this?"  
  
"Bobby-"  
  
"How long."  
  
"Long enough."  
  
There were times when Bobby could understand what Dean was thinking when he slugged his baby brother, Lord knew he wanted to sometimes. Like right now. Instead he took a deep breath and tried to avoid letting his own hurt at the elder Winchester's behavior color his interaction with the younger.  
  
"You still had no right to tell them about that," Bobby stated.  
  
"Yeah, well, we're just going to have to agree to disagree on that."  
  
"You might want to rethink that assessment if you want to have any hope of reconciling with your brother."  
  
"What the hell do you mean with that?"  
  
"Just that I don't think Dean will be the one to bridge the gap this time and you have one huge apology to give if you want to get your brother back."  
  
" _I_  have an apology to give? What about the one he owes me, huh?" Sam demanded, furious. "We did what was best for him, we gave him the best opportunity a hunter can have to get out of this life and be happy. It's not our fault that he fucked it up."


	43. Chapter 42

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What dreams may come... and reveal to us.

**PAST**  
  
  
" _I never loved you, you were my burden. I was shackled to you. Look what it got me._ "  
  
Despite knowing that he was dreaming and that it wasn't really his mother standing before him, her eyes yellow, Dean flinched, the words cutting deep. He closed his own eyes, but couldn't block out the look of hate and disgust he'd seen on her face directed at him.  
  
" _And then, finally, I was dead. The one silver lining, is that at least I was away from you._ "  
  
This time, Dean whimpered. He couldn't help it, knowing from past experience that covering his ears did nothing to stop the venomous diatribe from reaching him. In fact, nothing he did ever made any difference whatsoever, so it was useless to even try, something which went against every instinct he had. The thing was, he just didn't know if he could do anything, knowing how pointless it was when all he'd get for his efforts was more disdain and scorn. His mind was more than ready and willing to add and expand upon what Zachariah had made the illusion of his mother say to him in Heaven.   
  
If it had merely been an illusion, which he dearly hoped it was. The thing was, Dean just didn't know, not for sure. Yeah, Zachariah had claimed that it wasn't, but he knew the bastard would lie just to hurt him more. There was, however, the possibility that he hadn't been lying and that option ate away at him. The thought of that filthy bastard putting his paws on her... it was worse than anything an illusion of his mother could say to him. Alastair had taught him well how the power of truth could be used to hurt someone far more deeply than any lie ever could and he wouldn't put it past Zachariah to know about this as well. It was like the fact that demons lied, except when they didn't as they knew the truth would cut more deeply than anything they could invent.  
  
" _Everybody leaves you, Dean, you noticed? Mommy, Daddy, even Sam. Ever ask yourself why? Maybe it's not them, maybe, it's you._ "  
  
The words were like bullets and Dean felt as if he were bleeding out here. He wished that he could curl himself up into a small ball and shut out the outside world and all of the pain and torment that came with it.  
  
"Dean."  
  
The new female voice made Dean turn to find Michael standing just a few feet away from him. The archangel looked angry, but for once he didn't think it was directed at him as the glare seemed to be focused on the dream version of his mother.  
  
"Michael," Dean replied, grateful for the distraction.  
  
"You should leave this."  
  
"Yeah, see, it's called a nightmare and humans don't exactly have control over their dreams like that."  
  
In the blink of an eye, the world had changed around them and Dean found himself standing in a small but cozy living room in what appeared to be a log cabin of some kind. The decor was definitely feminine, but he could detect more masculine touches worked in as well.  
  
"Where are we?" Dean asked, not recognizing the place in the slightest.  
  
"I am not entirely sure," Michael admitted. "It is a residual memory I got from Deirdre's mind. I thought this might be more comforting for you then something from my own experience."  
  
"Oh."  
  
The new knowledge made Dean take a second look around the place and he stepped closer to the fireplace to inspect the pictures frames atop it. Most of them were of Deirdre and a man that he could only assume was her husband. He felt a brief pang of regret for what the man must be going through right now, to have his wife's body simply disappear from the hospital right after whatever had happened to her. The fact that she'd still been on life support or had been kept alive despite being brain dead clearly said that he'd not yet given up hope, so her disappearance must have been a devastating blow. He was half tempted to tell Michael to put her back, to let the poor guy get some peace and closure, but then what? He wasn't willing to let the archangel take him as a vessel and he didn't think he had any other family that Michael could use. Not that he'd subject anyone to that, but some people clearly thought it an honor, like Jimmy originally had.  
  
Difficult as it was to accept, Dean knew that this was one of the many sacrifices that would have to be made if they were going to win or at least avert this Apocalypse. Deirdre was technically dead, they really couldn't find a better vessel then that. To distract himself, he turned to the last photo on the mantel. It was one that had been taken decades ago, as evidenced by how young both his father and aunt looked. If he had to guess, he'd say that they were both in their late teens, the clothing and hairstyles backing up his assessment. They looked happy and carefree, standing at the edge of some lake next to a canoe.  
  
"Here, look at this one."  
  
Michael was suddenly standing quite close beside him, holding out a picture frame. Dean accepted it despite his surprise and found himself looking at an old photograph of himself together with his mother and aunt. His father wasn't in the shot, probably because he'd been the one to take it. He couldn't quite remember this scene and from how small he himself was and how skinny his mom looked, he'd guess that he was about two years old. He was holding a toy and beaming with joy up at his aunt while his mother looked on fondly with love in her eyes. He felt his own eyes tear up and he rubbed his face with his free hand to get rid of the evidence. He would not cry in front of this archangel, dammit!  
  
"She loved you," Michael said softly, but with complete conviction.  
  
"Yeah," Dean replied.  
  
He might not have many memories of his mother left after all of those years and he had been very young when she'd died, but that had never been in doubt. In point of fact, that feeling of love, comfort and security that he could remember experiencing in her arms had been something he'd strived to reclaim all his life but had failed to find until Castiel. He'd tried his best to pretend otherwise, but he knew when he was honest with himself that his lover could make him feel all those things he'd missed since Azazel had come into their home and changed things forever. It wasn't that he didn't want to feel it all again, but simply that it had been so very long and so much had happened since that he just didn't know how to deal with experiencing all of it again. Not when he'd been so sure that he never would.  
  
"If you know this, then why do you dream of her saying otherwise?"  
  
The words caused a surge of anger within him and Michael was clearly aware of his mood enough to take a step back warily. Briefly, Dean wondered if he actually had the power to hurt the archangel here, in his dream, to cause that reaction but then discarded the thought as unimportant for now.  
  
"Why do I dream of her like that? Zachariah, that's why!" Dean spat, unconsciously clutching the photo frame tightly to his chest like a shield.  
  
Michael's face instantly darkened at the words. "He used the memory of her against you?"  
  
"Yeah. I can't even remember what memory it was now, but it must have been a good one as it started like any other on your little loop in Heaven before it changed and morphed into what you saw. Or part of it anyway, the original went on for a bit longer before Joshua got us out of there."  
  
If he'd thought the archangel's expression was bad before, it was nothing compared to what it was now. Michael looked positively thunderous and Dean was secretly glad that it wasn't directed at him, even if he was currently the center of the archangel's attention.  
  
"Zachariah turned your Heaven into that?"  
  
"You didn't know," Dean realized with surprise.  
  
"No, of course not!" Michael replied, indignant. "Angels are not supposed to interfere with souls in their resting place."  
  
"Are you saying you would have left Sam and me there?"  
  
"No, you were both needed on Earth, but that does not justify this monstrosity!"  
  
The realization that Michael was well and truly pissed at Zachariah for what he'd done, stunned Dean. He'd always assumed that everything Castiel's old boss had done had been condoned by the archangel, so to discover otherwise now was a real eye-opener. It was always possible that Michael was putting on an act, but his outrage seemed genuine enough.  
  
"Dean, I give you my word that if Castiel hadn't killed Zachariah, I would see him severely punished for this unjustifiable transgression."  
  
He was already opening his mouth to say that he'd probably been the one to push Zachariah that far when Dean realized what Michael had said. "Hey, wait a minute, Cas didn't kill Zachariah."  
  
"What? But he was dead when I arrived."  
  
"Yeah, 'cause I ganked him."  
  
"You what?"  
  
"I stabbed him through the throat with one of your swords, killing him."  
  
Even as he said it, Dean could read the disbelief in the archangel's eyes and it caused a swell of indignation within him. What the hell was Michael's problem? He seemed determined to think the absolute worst of humans and that they were nothing more than weak little creatures to be used or dismissed at will. Raphael and Zachariah'd had much the same attitude and look where that had gotten them. Even Uriel had shared in their opinion. Was Castiel really one of the only angels that looked at them in any kind of good light?  
  
"No, that's impossible."  
  
"Dude, get over yourself! Look, I know you have a really low opinion of us mud monkeys, but-"  
  
"That's not what I meant," Michael interrupted. "Only an angel can kill another angel."  
  
Dean blinked, vaguely recalling that Castiel had said something similar to him once. "But what about demons, surely they can gank you as well?"  
  
"Only those that are fallen angels. All of the others can hurt or torture us, but they cannot actually kill us and neither can humans."  
  
"Yeah, well, that's obviously not right because I'm the one that killed Zachariah. Cas wasn't anywhere near there anymore, he'd banished himself and the other angels Zach had with him so that Sam and I could rescue Adam."  
  
"Impossible," Michael muttered, more to himself than anything before he turned his full attention back to Dean. "Where are you at the moment?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Your body, where is it?"  
  
Dean had gotten so caught up in what was going on that he'd totally forgotten that he was still technically asleep, dreaming, and that the archangel was dream walking with him. "Wait a minute, how are you even here anyway?"  
  
"You were in severe distress."  
  
"No, I wasn't!"  
  
"Emotional distress is still distress, so I used the bond to find your mind."  
  
"Great."  
  
"Dean, where are you?"  
  
"Can't you tell?"  
  
"Not while dream walking, I would need to leave this realm to do so. Where are you?"  
  
"Why?"  
  
"You are the most stubborn human I have ever dealt with," Michael pronounced, placing his hand on Dean's forehead.  
  


* * *

  
With a gasp, Dean woke, jerking into an upright position in bed. He'd hardly had the time to reorient himself before his lover was suddenly there, followed closely by Michael.  
  
"Cas?"  
  
"Are you alright?" Castiel demanded, stepping close to check him over. "Michael said something was wrong."  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine," Dean waved off the concern and squirmed away from his angel's hands to glare at Michael. "Dude, what the hell?"  
  
"He killed an angel," Michael stated, his attention on his brother.  
  
"What?" Castiel demanded.  
  
"Zachariah."  
  
"Was that not you?"  
  
"No, I thought it was you."  
  
Castiel's attention was suddenly back on him and Dean didn't like the disbelief he saw there. His lover should know him better than that by now.  
  
"You really killed Zachariah?" Castiel asked.  
  
"Oh for!" Dean shoved back the blankets, having actually gotten changed and under the covers for once.  
  
He walked over to the weapons bag he'd brought inside with him and fished out the angel sword he'd used. Turning around, he threw it at Castiel who, of course, managed to catch it effortlessly.  
  
"There, that's the sword I used."  
  
"No, Dean, it is not that I do not believe you," Castiel began, handing the weapon over to Michael without even glancing at it. "It is just that it should not even be possible. No one other than an angel or a former angel should be able to kill one of us. Trust me, demons have been trying for millennia to achieve this without success."  
  
"Oh, great. So this is not just a superiority complex thing?"  
  
Now it was Castiel's turn to look at him in displeasure and Dean felt bad for doubting his lover like that. It was just with Michael and Raphael's constant condescension, it was the first thing to come to mind when an archangel told him something couldn't be done. Still, he shouldn't have let that color his opinion of what Cas told him.  
  
"Sorry."  
  
Castiel's face instantly softened and he stepped closer to squeeze his shoulder. It was the first time his angel had done that and Dean couldn't help but smile at him for it before his thoughts turned back to the matter at hand.  
  
"So, basically, I can do something else humans shouldn't be able to."  
  
"Yes," Michael confirmed, looking up from the sword, perturbed.  
  
"Say, you or one your brothers didn't happen to stand over my crib and bleed into my mouth when I was a baby, did you?"  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"It is how his brother was first exposed to demon blood," Castiel explained before looking back at him. "No, Dean, nothing like that happened."  
  
"Then how do you explain all of these freaky abilities?"  
  
"They are not freaky, but rather a blessing."  
  
"Potato, potahto, tomato, tomahto." Both angels looked at him in confusion and Dean sighed. "Never mind."  
  
"I have said it before, but you are not what you seem, Dean Winchester," Michael stated, handing him back the sword without a moment's hesitation and Dean took it as yet another small step forwards. "Exactly what Father had in mind when he created you I do not yet know, but I am looking forward to discovering it."  
  



	44. Chapter 43

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas Day.

**PAST**  
  
  
The wonderful aroma that Dean could smell as soon as he stepped out of the shower told him that his lover had stopped by and he hurried to dry himself off and get dressed. If he'd known that Castiel was planning to come by, he'd have showered faster, but the combined effects of a good water heater and decent pressure had meant that he'd indulged himself for once. The motel he'd chosen several days ago when the snow had started to come down a little too heavily for his liking was slightly more upscale then was normal for him, but as it was coming up on Christmas, he'd decided it was worth it just this once. Especially since it was close to the town center so he could reach the dinners, shops and library all on foot instead of risking his baby in the increasingly worsening conditions.  
  
"Hey, Cas," Dean greeted, stepping out of the bathroom.  
  
"Hello, Dean. Merry Christmas."  
  
Dean beamed at his lover, giving him a kiss before pulling back. "Wait, I thought we humans had it completely wrong with Christmas?"  
  
"You do," Castiel confirmed. "But I know it is traditional for you to spend this day with those closest to you and I didn't wish for you to be alone."  
  
The admission made Dean swallow thickly and he was unsure of how to reply. Luckily he was saved from an embarrassingly chick flick moment by his stomach which chose then to growl loudly at the mouthwatering smell that drifted his way from the table. His lover's lips twitched and he mock-scowled.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, laugh at the human. Do I even want to know where this is from?"  
  
"France," Castiel replied and then continued when Dean caught sight of the plate. "Eggs Benedict."  
  
"Bene-what?"  
  
"Benedict. I believe you will like the hollandaise sauce and I requested bacon instead of the usual ham."  
  
"You're gonna make me fat, you do realize this, don't you?" Dean demanded with a fond smile.  
  
Although it sounded like something fancy that he'd normally never order himself, Dean had found that Castiel'd become surprisingly good at figuring out what he'd like even if he'd never had it before. He was not proven wrong and made various approving noises as the first bite hit his taste buds.  
  
"I'm sure we can find a way of working off any excess calories," Castiel stated.  
  
Dean snorted before taking a sip of coffee. Although his lover had come far when it came to sex and dirty talk, there were still times when something like this would pop out. Strangely, he found himself hoping that it never entirely disappeared, it was so quintessentially Castiel that he was sure he'd miss it if it never happened anymore.  
  
"I'm sure we can," Dean said instead.  
  
As he ate, he watched Castiel examine the spare Christmas balls that he'd left on the table among the books he'd been looking through. After his arrival, he'd gone into the nearby woods on impulse with his machete and put the weapon to its most decidedly mundane task ever though it was the one it had originally been made to do: chopping down a tree. Oh it wasn't anything big or impressive, was rather pathetic actually if he was honest with himself, but it was a Christmas tree nonetheless. And, well, once he'd had the tree, he'd really needed some stuff to decorate it with even if he knew that he'd just have to leave it all behind when he moved on. Still, he'd gone to the nearest thrift shop and bought a box of mixed decorations to hang up.  
  
"Did you put up these decorations yourself?" Castiel inquired.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"I am surprised by how much they alt-" Castiel broke off just as Dean took his last bite of his trans-Atlantic breakfast.  
  
He looked up to see what was wrong and nearly choked as he wanted to laugh with the food still in his mouth. Dean swallowed the eggs and bacon as quickly as possible as he watched his lover stand stock still, eyes narrowed as he looked at the ornament at the top of his pathetic little excuse for a Christmas tree. It had been a completely impulsive buy, but once the idea had occurred to him, he hadn't been able to resist it, especially not when the girl behind the helpdesk counter had seemed absolutely thrilled at the idea when he'd mentioned it to her. Apparently she was an art student at the local college and thought the challenge a perfect excuse to do what she loved at work.  
  
The end result was stunning and Dean had made sure to leave her a healthy tip. What had once been a generic blue-eyed, blond haired angel ornament, now bore a striking resemblance to his lover. Or, well, as striking a resemblance as could be gotten with something like that. Between the black spray paint that had been used on its hair and wings, an impromptu haircut, the tan cloth now wrapped over its white robe, the small blue tie and the miniature silver sword it held, it was unmistakable exactly who the little angel was meant to represent.  
  
He'd wondered how long it would take his angel to spot it when he'd put it up and it had made Dean laugh every time he'd looked at it.  
  
"Dean," Castiel said, turning his narrow-eyed gaze towards him.  
  
The tone of voice and look didn't fool Dean for an instant and he casually leaned back in his chair, a huge goofy grin on his face. "Yeah, Cas?"  
  
His lover seemed to try for a little longer before giving up and allowing his expression to fall into a bemused sort of exasperation. "Why is there a representation of a warrior of God on your pagan tree?"  
  
"Eh, because it's tradition to put an angel at the top of the tree?" Dean wasn't quite sure how that had come out sounding like a question, but it definitely had. His attempt at an innocent smile wasn't helping matters either.  
  
"And why was it altered to look like me?"  
  
"Ah, well, I didn't think you'd want me to put just any old angel on my tree, but if you'd rather I put one of your sisters up there, then I'm sure I can still find another one."  
  
Dean could see it the moment Castiel got what he was saying and the way his angel shifted his stance before  _stalking_  towards him was enough to make him start getting hard in his pants.  
  
"No," Castiel stated, leaning down and trapping him in the chair as if his lover thought that he might even want to try and escape. "You will not get another."  
  
"Yeah?" Dean challenged, unable to resist.  
  
The next thing he knew, Dean was hauled to his feet and pulled into a fierce kiss. He moaned, bucking his hips and then gasping as Castiel palmed his cock through his jeans before dragging him towards the bed. And to think he'd only just gotten out of that bed an hour ago. Not that he was complaining, not at all.   
  
There was absolutely no finesse to what happened next, nor did they make it as far as actual fucking, coming instead from frantic rutting against each other, guided along by Castiel's hand on both their cocks. Dean couldn't find it in himself to care as he lay panting on the rumpled sheets. The day was still young and, besides, it brought up many enjoyable memories of the beginning of their relationship, before they'd worked up to proper sex. Or penetration as Cas had called it, he recalled with a smile.  
  
It amazed Dean how content he was to just lie there next to his lover, dozing a little as he came down from his endorphin high. He was never in danger of truly falling asleep, but was rather just luxuriating in the fact that he didn't need to get up and get going for once. It was surprisingly refreshing.  
  
"What do you normally do on Christmas?" Castiel finally asked, breaking the comfortable silence.  
  
Dean snorted. "We didn't normally celebrate Christmas, not really. Sometimes we'd put up crappy decorations like these, exchange some gifts and drink some eggnog, but that's it really."  
  
"Would now be an appropriate time for me to give you your gift?"  
  
"My gift?" Dean questioned, sitting up against the headboard, an odd mix of exhilaration and childish joy rising within him. "You got me a gift?"  
  
"It is custom to give those close to you gifts on Christmas, is it not?"  
  
"Yes, but..."  
  
Dean didn't really know what else to say as he watched his lover lean over the side of the bed for his coat and pull a small present from one of the pockets. The wrapping was clumsily done, as if wrapped by a small child or, in this case, someone who had never wrapped a gift before in their lives. That Castiel had not only taken the time to do so, but had attempted it the human way touched him deeply and he felt the emotions rising within him. Wordlessly, he accepted the present and felt it gently with his fingers, trying to guess what it was.  
  
"Is something wrong?" Castiel inquired.  
  
"No, no!" Dean hastened to reassure. "I was just seeing if I could figure out what it was, that's half the fun with presents. But, no, I'm coming up blank."  
  
Whatever it was, it felt oddly shapeless, or rather like it was shifting within its packaging. There seemed to be another layer of wrapping- clothe if he wasn't mistaken- between the paper and the gift itself. Unable to be sure of anything beyond the fact that it was made up of several different shapes, Dean eagerly ripped off the wrapping paper only to be confronted with a little jewellery bag. His eyebrows rose in surprise and he looked at his angel.  
  
"You got me jewellery?"  
  
Castiel merely smiled indulgently at him before he motioned for him to continue, eyes glued to his face. "You'll see."  
  
His lover's quiet assurance and words made the small bubble of doubt that had risen within him vanish and Dean undid the knot in the bag's strings. Once he got it open, he tipped the contents into his palm and felt his breath catch in his throat and his eyes widen in surprise and shock as he realized exactly what it was that he held.  
  
"Mom," Dean whispered hoarsely, instantly recognizing the charm bracelet that had alerted him to the fact that she was a hunter.  
  
Or at least it looked exactly like the one that she had worn. The thought had Dean looking up at Castiel, unable to get his voice to work again to ask the question and hoping his lover would be able to tell what he wanted to know. He didn't think his angel would just get him a look-alike, but how on Earth could he possibly have gotten hold of the original?  
  
"Yes, it is the same one that your mother used to own," Castiel confirmed.  
  
"How?"  
  
"It took some effort, but I was able to track it down in the end. It is a magical object, heavily endowed with protection spells and thus easier to find than a normal bracelet."  
  
But still a needle in a haystack, Dean suspected and leaned across to kiss his lover. "Thank you."  
  
"It was my pleasure. Would you like me to put it on you? I took the liberty of enlarging it just enough so it would fit your wrist."  
  
"Yeah, sure."  
  
It wasn't like he'd never worn bracelets before and even if this one was far more girly than anything he'd ever gotten for himself, Dean wasn't going to let that stop him. He'd never had much of his mother's, the fire having destroyed most of their belongings, and he wasn't going to let some stupid sentiment of what guys should and shouldn't wear stop him from holding on to what he did have.  
  
"Thanks," Dean said again, once his angel had put the bracelet on.  
  
The look Castiel gave him told Dean that his lover also heard the words that he couldn't seem to say just now. He still wasn't sure how they'd slipped out so easily before, but he was just glad that he'd gotten the sentiment across.  
  
"I got you a gift," the words were out of Dean's mouth before he even realized he was going to say them and it made him wince internally.  
  
He still wasn't sure what had possessed him to try and find a gift for Castiel in the first place, but once he'd made the decision, he'd been determined to follow it through. Now he was thankful for that inherent stubbornness of his even as the memory of what he'd gotten made him wince. It was so freaking inadequate and worthless, especially compared to what he'd just received, but he hadn't been able to think of anything else. What did you get an angel that didn't seem to value material possessions and was able to get anything he did want with almost no effort?  
  
Castiel must have followed his gaze as he'd looked towards the pathetic little tree because the next thing Dean knew, his lover stood beside it before flitting back to the bed. Even his choice of wrapping paper seemed hopelessly juvenile and stupid now that he looked at it. His lover had taken the time to get some genuine stuff somewhere and he'd used the comics section of a random newspaper.  
  
"Dean, do you recall telling me once never to change?" Castiel asked softly.  
  
Dean's eyes snapped up to his angel's face only to find himself the center of Cas' focus. "Yeah, of course."  
  
"Have you considered that perhaps I would like the same of you?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"This," Castiel said, holding up his present, thumb and forefinger stroking the newspaper. "Is you. The use of this wrapping paper tells me that you took the time to wrap it yourself instead of having someone else do it for you."  
  
"Still coulda gotten something better," Dean replied, though a reluctant smile tugged at his lips.  
  
"And what use would you have for the rest of the roll? It wouldn't have lasted in the trunk of the Impala until the next time you'd want to use it and we both know it."  
  
"No," Dean admitted, shaking his head. Only Castiel. "So, you gonna open it or what?"  
  
With one final look at him, his lover turned his attention back to his gift and started carefully opening it, undoing each bit of tape instead of ripping right into it. If Dean had felt any more confident about his choice of present, he would have teased Castiel about it, as he felt strongly that gifts should be opened with a little more fanfare, but as it was he let it go. Perhaps he should have gone with the new wardrobe idea after all? Give his angel some style of his own instead of the holy tax accountant garb he still wore over two years after arriving on Earth.  
  
"Dean."  
  
Castiel's voice snapped him out of his thoughts and Dean looked over to see his lover carefully pick up the key ring from the center of the sheet of newspaper he'd used to wrap it in. On it was just one key, but it was a duplicate of the most important one in his life seeing as he hadn't had a real home since he was four and thus no house key.  
  
"Look, I... eh, know that you don't really need it to get around or anything," Dean stammered. "And that you can just zap yourself in and out without it, but... well, I-"  
  
Dean finally managed to cut himself off as his lover ran his fingers gently over the key itself before looking up at him. "The Impala?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
The look that crossed Castiel's face now was one that Dean had seen before, but generally only after they'd had sex and his lover was watching over him afterwards as he started to drift off to sleep. It made him think that perhaps he hadn't been so far off with his choice of present after all.  
  
"I am honored," Castiel stated, before his lips twitched. "Though I must confess to being unable to drive."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"It is not a skill Father deemed necessary to endow us with at creation."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Though I could acquire it."  
  
As he said that, his lover brushed his fingers lightly across his forehead, far too lightly to actually be doing anything, but Dean understood what he meant perfectly. "Yeah? Well why don't you grab that knowledge now and we'll see about getting you some practical experience later, when we're somewhere where the roads aren't covered in snow and ice."  
  
"I would like that very much."  
  
This time when the fingers brushed his temple, there was more force behind it and then Dean could feel something else, inside of him. In most ways it was almost exactly like when Castiel had downloaded Enochian into his brain, only without the accompanying pain. Probably because nothing was being dumped into his mind this time he figured. He still must have lost a little time, though, as when he blinked his eyes open, he was leaning against his angel with his head resting on his shoulder. One of Cas' arms was wrapped securely around him while his lover toyed with the two key rings he'd chosen. Well, only one was truly a key ring, the second was merely clipped to the ring of the first. He hadn't been able to resist the latter as it was of a wing and he'd loved the irony. The first was a simple little black plastic square with the words 'Rebel with a Cause' carved into it.  
  
"Thank you for sharing your home with me," Castiel stated when Dean looked up at his face.  
  
Dean ducked his head and shrugged. "Thanks for taking the time to join me today."  
  
"If we lose track of why we are fighting, then Lucifer will have won even if we defeat him."  
  
Now there was a philosophy he could get behind. Unable to help himself, Dean had a flash of one of the bitch faces Sam had given him once when he'd tried to argue for a day off back during their hunt for Lilith. Quickly, though, he shoved the thought aside. He would not let the memories of his little brother taint today of all days.  
  
"What do other people do on Christmas?" Castiel asked.  
  
"Eh, similar stuff, I guess, though they'd normally do some kind of family get together, with those who live further away coming home to celebrate. Some people go out and sing Christmas carols or go sleighing or build a snowman..." Dean trailed off as something else occurred to him and a large grin formed on his face. "Or they might make snow angels."  
  
As expected, his lover's head tilted to one side as he considered this. "What are snow angels and how does one make them?"  
  
Dean laughed even as he had to admit that Castiel was showing great progress by realizing that he hadn't meant the words literally or meant him or one of his siblings. Excitement rose within him and he got out of bed. "Come on, get dressed and we'll go outside so that I can show you!"  
  
Once they were bundled up, and Dean had not let Castiel get away without doing so by pointing out that though the cold might not affect him, nobody else knew that and he'd draw far too much attention to them if he didn't at least look like he was dressed for the weather. Not that he didn't think two grown men making snow angels wouldn't draw a certain amount of attention on its own, but that would be more the kind of 'haven't they grown up yet?' attention instead of the 'look at that freak over there' kind. It was an important distinction as far as he was concerned.  
  
"Here's good," Dean decided when he'd found a nice patch of pristine snow. "Now watch."  
  
With those words, Dean lowered himself onto his ass in the snow, wincing slightly as the cold started to seep through his clothing immediately. Castiel was watching him with a frown that he figured would only grown when he lay down completely, but he was far too excited to care. He hadn't made a snow angel in years, not since Sammy had declared himself too old to do such childish things anymore and he found that he'd missed it. He'd used to make them with Mom all of the time as she'd had no problems getting down into the snow.  
  
"Dean?"  
  
"Just watch."  
  
Once flat, Dean stated moving his arms up and down and his legs side to side until he was satisfied that he'd properly flattened or pushed aside all of the snow. Sitting up, he turned around slightly so he could draw a halo above the snow angel's head before turning back to face his lover and holding out his hand. Castiel obligingly pulled him up and he jumped a little so that he wouldn't put too many boot marks in his creation.  
  
"See?" Dean said, brushing the snow off the back of his head. "That's a snow angel." Castiel was looking at it with a slight frown and Dean sighed. "The bit where my arms were are supposed to be the wings."  
  
"And what you did with your legs?"  
  
"Well, the robe, obviously," Dean replied, shooting his lover a mischievous grin. " _Everyone_  knows that angels wear robes, duh."  
  
Castiel looked from the snow angel to him and back again before a smile spread across his face. "Of course they do. How silly of me to forget."  
  
Dean laughed. "Go on, your turn," he said with a little push.  
  
For a moment, he thought Castiel wouldn't do it, but then his lover moved to the side a little and lay down in the snow. Instead of imitating what he'd done before, though, Cas simply got back up again.  
  
"There, I have made a snow human."  
  
Unable to come up with a good reply for that, Dean fell back on his usual response when there was snow about; he threw a snowball. It wasn't until he called a halt to their impromptu war forty-five minutes later when his fingers felt frozen even in his gloves, that he paused to think of what they must have looked like, running around having a massive snowball fight, but he found that he just didn't care. Castiel had the biggest smile on his face that he'd ever seen and he himself was really happy, if both cold and wet.  
  
He didn't see the kiss coming, but Dean didn't mind it in the slightest, especially when he was able to pull Castiel closer as his angel seemed as warm as always, completely unaffected by the cold. The next instant they were back in the motel room, though it took him a second longer to realize that not only were they in the bed once more, but they were both naked. A wicked grin crossed his face as he looked up at his lover.  
  
"Dude, you're awesome!"  
  
Castiel merely smiled before he leaned down for a kiss, covering Dean's body with his own.


	45. Chapter 44

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean still doesn't trust Raphael.

**PAST**  
  
  
Dean cranked up the volume of his music as his favorite AC/DC tape started playing "Back in Black" and he began singing along loudly. He had a brief flash of the bitchface Sam had thrown his way the last time he'd done this when they'd been together, before shoving it aside. Clearly there were some advantages to not having his brother with him. His grin turned dirty as he thought of other ways in which it was nice not have Sam about. He'd hate to have to be discrete about his relationship with Castiel and he just didn't know how his brother would take that. Nor did he care much for the idea of having to think about the fact that someone could walk in on them at any time. It took the spontaneity out of things.  
  
Thoughts of his lover merely increased Dean's good mood and he began drumming along with the music on the steering wheel. Castiel had said that he'd come by in the late afternoon and he was already planning on where he could order food from so that they wouldn't have to leave the room. He'd ganked the ghouls he'd come to town to hunt and thus had the rest of the day free before he moved on to his next hunt tomorrow. Well, if none of the archangels had an alternate assignment for him anyway.  
  
The thought still had the power to amaze him even months after not only Castiel's return to Earth, but after Michael's as well. But therein lay the crux of the matter. Michael had already been out of the cage for just ever two months and the cage was rapidly deteriorating. It was just a matter of time before Lucifer broke free and then no one- not even God he was pretty sure- knew what would happen next. They'd had multiple discussions on the matter and both Michael and Raphael had been adamant that they couldn't kill Lucifer, not as in it was impossible to do, but as in that doing so- ending the Apocalypse as it had been originally been intended even if the rest of the details were off- they would be ending the world as it currently was.  
  
So, basically, if they wanted to prevent Paradise from being forced upon everyone, not to mention the undoubtedly bloody and cataclysmic battle that would lead up to Lucifer's death, they had to find another way. The problem was, other than locking Lucifer back in his cage, they were all coming up blank. With Michael unable to create a new cage without God's help, Dean was really starting to worry that they wouldn't find an alternative option in time to prevent the devil from walking free once more and it was always enough to put a damper on his spirits.  
  
With a frustrated sigh, Dean turned down the volume of his music and wished, not for the first time, that something would simply fall into their laps. Oh, he had no real illusions that it would be that simple, but everyone could have their little fantasies, couldn't they? He just wanted it to be over, it had been one thing after another for so long that he had a hard time remembering what life was like without feeling like the weight world was resting on his shoulders, something not helped by the fact that it currently really was. Literally. The fact that Castiel kept saying he had no plans of leaving anytime soon only made him wish all the harder for an end to this Apocalypse, though there was still fear there as well. Could he handle a real relationship without something this huge eating up most of their time? If he was honest with himself, he knew that he wasn't sure but, surprisingly for the first time in his life, he wanted to try it and see.  
  
"Well, that's great," Dean muttered, pulling into the motel's parking lot.  
  
His good mood was officially gone now, making him jittery with the residual adrenaline from the hunt. Dean hated feeling like this, especially when he'd been in such high spirits only a short while ago. He'd drop his stuff off inside and then perhaps go for a run, see if he couldn't work it off in a constructive manner. He generally had so many hunts and fights lately that he didn't need to worry about doing too much additional training to stay in shape, but it never hurt and now it might help take his thoughts off such depressing and deep things.  
  
He was aware of another presence in the room as soon as the door opened, but wasn't immediately alarmed until he caught sight of Raphael sitting in the room's sole chair.  
  
"What the hell are yo- oh, hey, Cas," Dean said.  
  
He felt kinda sheepish just then for his outburst. Of course either Michael or Castiel needed to be around if Raphael was present. Unlike the other two, Raphael wasn't able to track him at will and would have needed to call him in order to show up here without one of his brothers. It was because of this mild embarrassment that it took him half a minute longer than normal to realize that not only had his lover not returned his greeting, but he hadn't moved a muscle.  
  
"Cas?" Dean questioned, horror and dread flooding his system.  
  
"He cannot answer you," Raphael stated.  
  
"Why not?"  
  
The purpose of the question was purely to distract the archangel as Dean tried desperately to remember where the hell he had left the Jewel of Abel. He'd become lax as of late with it, the sudden unexpected reversal of Michael's stance on the Apocalypse having lulled him into a stupid sense of security. Although he still knew what a serious threat Lucifer was and he was doing everything in his power to prevent his escape from the cage, the sheer power of his lover and their new ally made it difficult to remember at times that he might be attacked in such a way as to need the Jewel of Abel on him at all times. If he made it through this, he'd make sure to rectify that oversight. Christ, but his father would tear him a new one if he were still here!  
  
"I have trapped him, his Grace and vessel alike, freezing him in place," Raphael explained.  
  
The moment Dean was sure the Jewel of Abel was in the front pocket of his duffel, he lunged for it, sailing past his lover who was seated at the foot of the bed. He'd been too well trained to even hesitate, knowing that to deviate from his goal, from acquiring the only weapon in the room that would work against Raphael, if even for a second, would result in failure. His only hope was to have caught the archangel off-guard enough for him to get to his duffel and put the freaking thing on before Raphael managed to react.  
  
He failed.  
  
The impact of another body knocking into him, sent Dean against the wall where he was easily pinned by Raphael's superior strength. He half expected to be hit or further slammed into the wall, but neither happened. That didn't deter him from trying to break free even though he knew, rationally, that he had no hope against the archangel's strength. The fucking bastard was attacking Castiel!  _Again_. He was damned if he was just going to stand about idly, letting Raphael hurt his lover.  
  
"Enough!" Raphael ordered. "Cease this ridiculous behavior at once."  
  
"Let me go!"  
  
"Not until you obey."  
  
"Over my dead body!"  
  
"I am not hurting him, this is part of his training."  
  
"Like hell it is!" Dean snapped back. "Michael is training Cas, not you."  
  
Before Dean could say anything else, Raphael's hard gaze softened fractionally and he nodded his head once, decisively. "Well done, Brother."  
  
"Release him, Raphael," Castiel commanded quietly.  
  
Dean's eyes widened in surprise and he craned his neck to see past the archangel pinning him to the wall. "Cas?"  
  
He wasn't sure why he even asked as he was in no doubt as to who had spoken. He'd recognize his lover's voice anywhere and that particular tone Castiel was using was also very familiar to him. It had been burned into his memory less from hearing it often and more from the threat it had conveyed the first time he'd heard it, that night at Bobby's house when his angel had first told him about the seals and Lucifer. It was a tone that promised violence and Heavenly retribution if disobeyed.  
  
"I have not harmed him, merely prevented him from acquiring the means with which to attack me," Raphael replied.  
  
"I know, but you will release him immediately. Dean, he was telling you the truth, this was part of a training session."  
  
The words made Dean scowl, especially when Raphael's face took on a distinctly unangelic look of superiority. Well, at least it would be unangelic to anyone who didn't really know angels, for him it was an entirely natural thing to see on a Heavenly douchebag.  
  
"Training for what?" Dean demanded.  
  
"To prevent Lucifer from trapping him in that manner, of course," Raphael stated.  
  
Dean narrowed his eyes at the bastard, ready to tell him he wasn't asking him, but a feminine voice from outside cut him off.  
  
"Excuse me, hello?" the words were accompanied by a tentative knock on the door and all of them froze. "Is everything alright in there?"  
  
He blinked as he realized that the slamming and shouting must have attracted the attention of the people next door, but Dean couldn't fathom why this woman had thought it a good idea to come by in person. Most people would simply have called the front desk or the cops instead of taking the risk of interrupting what could have been a really ugly situation.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Shit, I'll take this," Dean hissed. "You two behave." Raphael looked like he was ready to start sputtering in anger, but Dean didn't think the archangel knew enough about human reactions to actually follow through on that. Oh, well, his loss really. Raising his voice he called out. "Just a minute!"  
  


* * *

  
Castiel raised a finger to stop his brother from speaking as soon as the door closed behind his mate. He had no desire to make whatever explanations Dean would have to give the woman any more difficult then they already were. Once he was sure his hunter'd had the time to steer her a bit further away from the door, he turned his attention back to the other archangel.  
  
"Why does he still distrust me so much?" Raphael demanded of him. "He's forgiven Michael and has appeared to start trusting him."  
  
"You killed me."  
  
Raphael appeared genuinely confused and Castiel knew that his brother truly didn't know his mate. So it was no surprise to him that his brother had never quite managed to catch Dean or even seen what was coming that night they'd trapped him in the holy fire.  
  
"I have apologized to you for that already," Raphael stated.  
  
"Yes, and I have forgiven you for it, but have you told Dean of this?"  
  
"Why would I need to do that?"  
  
"Because Dean cares far more for others then he does about himself. If it had been him you'd killed, he'd probably already have forgiven you for it and moved on."  
  
"That is not the human way."  
  
"Perhaps not," Castiel conceded. "But it is Dean's way."  
  
"He does not think much of himself," Michael stated from behind Castiel, startling him as he hadn't sensed the arrival of his other brother. "He does not see his own worth."  
  
"No, he does not," Castiel confirmed for Raphael who was looking at Michael in disbelief.  
  
He hesitated, knowing that his mate wouldn't appreciate him telling his brothers too much about him, but Castiel felt that things would work better if they knew Dean better. It was by getting to know his hunter that he'd come to realize that what Zachariah and his brothers and sisters were doing was wrong. His mate might think himself worthless, much to his eternal dismay and regret, but he was the noblest and most righteous being he'd ever met. If only he could show Dean his own soul, then he'd never be able to doubt himself again.  
  
"When I was pulling him from Hell, he resisted as he did not think that he deserved to be saved," Castiel finally said. "On some level he still does not think that he deserved it."  
  
The expression on Raphael's face was peculiar and Castiel wished once more that he was better at reading human expressions. He felt like he was missing a whole side of his mate without this skill, but with Dean at least he knew how to read his soul, with his brother he didn't have this advantage.  
  
"The righteous man did not think he was worth saving?" Raphael questioned incredulously.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Then why did he resist Michael so vehemently and for so long? If he does not consider himself worth what he was given?"  
  
"Because it was the right thing to do. Dean, as the Righteous Man, has a highly developed sense of what is just and as much as he won't do something for himself, he will go to extraordinary lengths for others and for what is right. He said no and would have kept saying no because he simply could not accept the deaths of everyone who would die in Lucifer and Michael's fight."  
  
"And he does not want Paradise," Michael added darkly.  
  
"Yes, that too," Castiel agreed.  
  
It still pained him greatly to know his mate viewed Heaven with such trepidation and resignation. That Dean didn't view it as a well-deserved reward, but rather as an inevitable destination; a better alternative to Hell but nothing desirable in its own right. It pained Castiel, but he could definitely understand why his hunter thought so negatively of his home after his experience there. All he could do was reassure Dean that things were now done differently and then show his mate what Heaven was really like when his time came. The thought of Dean's inevitable mortal death filled him with all manner of conflicting emotions. On the one hand, the mere idea of it filled him with horror and dread as he knew that with his mate's occupation, he was unlikely to die either peaceably or easy, but on the other hand, he knew that Dean was destined for Heaven. Once there, his mate would finally be able to lay down his weapons to rest and enjoy himself, and he planned to make sure that Dean got the best of what his home had to offer. It was an odd mixture of conflicting emotions and he found it easiest to shove them all aside and focus on the present. The rest would come when it did and in the meantime he planned to ensure that his mate lived as long as he could because Earth was clearly Dean's favorite place to be.  
  
"And this has to do with why he will not forgive me?" Raphael asked.  
  
"I do not know about will not, but definitely why he has not yet done so," Castiel replied.  
  
"You attacked and killed someone very important to him," Michael added. "Even though Father brought Castiel back, that is a very grave offense in his eyes."  
  
Castiel felt what he was sure was a surge of hope and pride at his brother's words. Although he had been ready to refuse Michael's original plea to be heard, he had since come to know the first archangel far better and started to view him as a true brother instead of an enemy as he had been. It thus pleased him greatly to see that Michael had not only started to understand him, as evidenced during their training sessions, but Dean as well.  
  
It made him more hopeful that they could end this war favorably.


	46. Chapter 45

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team Angel needs to figure out where they stand.

**PAST**  
  
  
Dean was just leaning over the sink to spit out a mouthful of foaming toothpaste when he heard the distinctive sound of fluttering wings behind him. When his mouth was clear, he looked up into the mirror and was surprised to find Michael standing next to the shower, watching him.  
  
"What are you doing?" Michael asked, head tilted slightly to one side.  
  
"Uh, brushing my teeth," Dean replied, looking down at his toothbrush and then back up at the mirror before he just turned around to make things easier.  
  
"Brushing your teeth?"  
  
"Yes, to keep them clean and prevent cavities, uh, holes in them, I guess."  
  
Michael merely regarded him with the expression Dean was starting to learn meant that he was trying to process that and make some sense of it. The thought made him pause as he realized that he'd spent enough time with the archangel to be able to begin picking out patterns in what had once been a pretty inscrutable face, well, when it wasn't twisted in anger or disgust anyway. He was sure his familiarity with Castiel's mannerisms helped, but still, it came as a shock how easily he was starting to read Michael. He wondered if the converse were true as well. There had been a lot less friction between them of late, though that could easily be due to Raphael being present and being a greater douchebag, but he didn't think that was entirely it.  
  
It was with a start that Dean realized that he didn't exactly mind the archangel's presence anymore. Sure, Michael could still get on his nerves and enrage him quickly, but for the rest of the time, he didn't view their encounters with trepidation and dismay anymore. Just when exactly had that happened?  
  
"Why would they have... cavities?" Michael questioned.  
  
"Because of the sugar and stuff in food. Brushing my teeth also gets rid of any bits of food still stuck between my teeth that can cause bad breath."  
  
The face Michael pulled at this startled a laugh out of Dean and he quickly rinsed his toothbrush and mouth. Seeing the archangel glancing around the bathroom when he turned back to face him did remind him of something else.  
  
"Dude, you can't just fly into the bathroom in the future."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because I could just as easily have been taking a piss or having a shower."  
  
"And?"  
  
"And that stuff's private, meaning others, like you, don't just get to come in without any warning."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because, just because," Dean said, caught between frustration and amusement. If he hadn't gone through this whole song and dance with Castiel, he'd think that Michael was being deliberately difficult, but as it was, he knew better. "Look, just zap into the main room and knock on the door, alright? If it's okay for you to come in, then I'll let you know, otherwise you stay out, okay?"  
  
Michael regarded him for a few seconds, no doubt trying to read more of the reason why this was important, but Dean just didn't know how to explain it. As it was, he still thought Castiel had respected these boundaries more due to the fact that he'd asked him to rather than out of a true understanding of the reasoning behind them. And if his angel didn't get it after coming so close to being human, then what chance in hell did he have of making  _Michael_  understand it?  
  
Finally the archangel nodded. "So long as I do not think you are in danger, I shall do this."  
  
"Fair enough. So, what brings you by?"  
  
"I believe we need to discuss what we know and what we plan to do next. Lucifer's cage is weakening fast now and it will not be long before he manages to break free if we do not find anything to prevent him from doing so."  
  
"Yeah, okay. You wanna do this now?"  
  
"Preferably."  
  
"Great, call the others, I don't have a hunt just now and I'm not getting anywhere with the latest set of books Cas dropped off."  
  
If there was one thing that Dean hated more then researching something when he had no clue what he was looking for, it was doing so and finding diddly squat. He'd long since lost count of the number of books he'd gone through, but if Enochian had been at all fragile in his brain, it was now well and truly entrenched. He'd read more in Enochian just the past few weeks then he had in English for the past few months.  
  
With that thought in mind, Dean stepped past Michael out into the main room and collected together all of the books he'd already gone through so that Castiel could take them back to Heaven with him. The seemingly endless flow of books had him wondering just how large of a library there was upstairs, but it was a question he'd never dared ask of his lover, somehow far too afraid of the answer. If he hadn't already disliked Heaven, he'd definitely have started questioning what it was like up there quickly. His idea of Paradise just didn't have that many books, period.  
  
The fluttering of wings had him looking up and Dean scowled as he saw that Michael was the only angel present. "Dude, did you just zap yourself here from the bathroom?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Dean goggled. "Why? It was only a few steps."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
Okay, now the bastard was being deliberately obtuse, Dean just knew it. "I've said it before and I'll say it again, you guys are going to get flabby at this rate."  
  
Two could play at that game. If Michael wanted to pretend to be confused by what he was saying, then he was more then happy to give him something to be confused about. Somehow he couldn't quite see either of them backing down and it gave him a little thrill like the rush of satisfaction he used to get when baiting Sammy. The thought threw him for a loop but luckily he was saved by Castiel's arrival in the room.  
  
"Dean, Michael."  
  
"Hey, Cas," Dean smiled at his lover. "Mike wants to talk strategy."  
  
The slight narrowing of Michael's eyes caused another little thrill to run through him, but Dean tried to show it aside, not wanting to examine it too closely or start thinking about his brother right now.  
  
"That is a good idea," Castiel said, saving him once more.  
  
Dean wasn't sure if his angel had done it intentionally or not, but he was grateful for it nonetheless even though the urge to stick his tongue out at Michael from behind Castiel's back rose within him once more. What exactly was going on here? It wasn't even three months ago that he'd hated the bastard's proverbial guts with a vengeance. Then Raphael was there and Michael seemed to turn his thoughts to other matters. They started off rehashing what they'd already done before turning to what they could do from here.  
  
"I merely wish that we knew what Father wanted," Raphael stated. "It would be so easier to decide on the best course of action if we knew that."  
  
"Perhaps that is why He isn't telling us," Castiel replied. "To avoid letting us take the easiest course."  
  
"There must be more to it than that," Michael argued. "I refuse to believe Father would do all of this without a greater purpose."  
  
"So you believe Father meant for us to be here like this?"  
  
"Careful, Castiel, that is bordering on blasphemy," Raphael warned  
  
"I am merely questioning what He could be gaining from this."  
  
"Father must have wanted us to be here," Michael stated.  
  
"Does it even really matter?" Dean questioned.  
  
"Excuse me?" Raphael demanded, clearly scandalized. "Of course it matters!"  
  
"How? I mean, really, how would it matter? If it's not true, then we have no guidance and need to figure it out for ourselves. Whereas if it is true, then you need to accept that everything that has already happened so far was also part of God's plan," Dean said, catching how the two older archangels flinched at those words. In a way he felt sorry for them, if things really did turn out to be like that, then they'd basically been set up by their own father while He knew that they'd fail. If that were his dad doing that, he'd be pissed to all hell and back, that was for sure. "And the only way that things have progressed so far was by Cas, Sam and I figuring things out for ourselves. Which would mean that we need to keep doing as we have been and figure things out for ourselves. So, basically, the end result is the same either way. So how does it matter which it is?"  
  
His words were met with dead silence and as it stretched, Dean was starting to get a little worried that perhaps he'd broken the angels. It all seemed quite logical and easy to grasp to him, but he was constantly forgetting that these were beings who'd been especially created to worship and blindly obey their Father's orders and Word. On top of all of that, he'd been spending the majority of his time with Castiel, the one angel who'd adjusted the most of all of his brothers and sisters to humanity and the concept of free will. Given how much trouble his lover had experienced, and still did sometimes, how could he possibly expect any better from Raphael and Michael?  
  
Before the moment could stretch, there was another flutter of wings and suddenly a very familiar angel was in the room with them.  
  
"Xarael," Dean greeted in relief.  
  
Hopefully her arrival could ease the growing tension. It seemed to work, although Dean suddenly found himself tensing as he realized that he didn't know if Michael and Raphael'd had any previous contact with an angel under Castiel's command since their revelation. Although he now knew and liked Michael a hell of a lot more then he used to, he couldn't help but be afraid that the archangel would attempt to take back control of both Heaven and his siblings, wrestling it away from his younger brother.  
  
"Michael, Raphael," Xarael greeted, giving them a funny little half-bow each before she looked at him. "Dean."  
  
Dean was just starting to bristle a little when he noticed that, despite greeting the other two archangels first, Xarael was standing beside Castiel. Like,  _really_  beside him, as in well within his lover's personal space. If it had been any other being, anything other than an angel, he knew that he'd be feeling a swell of jealousy right about now. He might not feel that way as easily as Castiel did, but he knew he had it in him to feel so and with anyone else, this kind of behavior would be a very definite sign of interest in what was his. All of his now significant experience with angels, however, had clearly taught him that among their kind, this type of behavior did not imply the same thing.  
  
Hell, right now Dean actually kind of liked it as it struck him like Xarael was proving her loyalty to Castiel by standing so obviously on his side. Perhaps he'd been a bit harsh in his thoughts about the rest of the angels before. Yes, he did think that most of them would still blindly follow orders, but while Michael had been leading them for forever, Castiel had clearly been given approval by God himself. Surely that would outweigh Michael's authority if they stopped to think about it, something made much more likely by the fact that Michael simply hadn't been around when the switchover had happened.  
  
"Castiel," Xarael finally finished her greetings.  
  
"Xarael," Castiel replied. "Is something wrong?"  
  
"I'm sorry to interrupt, Brother, but I have just received word that Cassiel came across Hizil while completing his task in Illinois."  
  
Cassiel? Seriously? Dean couldn't quite believe his ears for a moment there. As if angel names couldn't get confusing enough what with most of them ending in -el, now they had to have such similar ones as Castiel and Cassiel? His lover had better never expect him to keep all of his siblings straight as that was an impossible task if he ever heard one.  
  
"Has anyone else been assigned a task there that I was unaware of?" Castiel questioned.  
  
"No. Cassiel also reports that the amount of Hizil left behind is indicative of an archangel."  
  
Dean was totally lost, the word Hizil going completely over his head even with the Enochian Castiel had crammed into his skull. The best he could get was that it was a proper noun. Hizil clearly meant something to everyone else though, as Michael and Raphael both seemed to come to attention and something passed between them before Raphael vanished.  
  
"It was neither of you, I take it?" Castiel asked.  
  
"No, it was not," Michael confirmed.  
  
"Eh, excuse me, Hizil?" Dean interjected.  
  
"Traces of Grace use," Castiel explained.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Hizil is that which is left behind when a significant amount of Grace power has been used," Michael expanded. "Such an event impacts the life energy in such a manner as to leave a temporary imprint behind which other angels can detect."  
  
"Oh, okay. So something like what Gabriel did to us in the warehouse with the freaky TV land world would have left a Hizil?"  
  
"Yes," Castiel confirmed.  
  
Okay, so that made some sense, Dean just couldn't get why this news had worked all of the angels into such a frenzy. So some angel had used Grace in Illinois, big deal. He knew it probably hadn't been for anything good, but still, it was hardly something he would have thought would cause Michael and particularly Raphael so much concern. Angels were- oh, no wait, not just an angel, they'd said archangel. But that meant-  
  
With a flutter of wings Raphael was in the room again, his face grave. "Simiel's cage has been opened. She is gone."


	47. Chapter 46

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean finally decides to test his theory about Castiel's water kink.

**PAST**  
  
  
Dean sighed with relief as he opened the door and entered his current motel room. They'd managed to successfully clear out an unexpectedly large nest of vampires between the three of them without any injuries, though the latter had only been achieved by some quick action on Michael's part when one of the fanged bastards had tried to sneak up on him while he was dealing with another vampire. He'd even thanked the archangel before Michael had flown off, saying he had to do something. What, they didn't know, but he was just as glad to be left alone with his lover. He'd used the ride home to start teaching Castiel about driving, explaining everything he did and why.  
  
Inside, he pulled off his jacket and wrinkled his nose again in disgust at the way his shirts stuck to him. Despite housing a nest of the undead, the house had been absolutely boiling, like someone had cranked up the heat and then forgotten about it.  
  
"I need a shower," Dean announced.  
  
"Very well," Castiel replied.  
  
Before his angel could fly off, Dean turned and caught his wrist. "Nuh uh, you're coming with me."  
  
"I do not require a shower."  
  
"That's not the point."  
  
"It is not?"  
  
"Nope, just think about it. Me, naked, under all of that water."  
  
Oh yeah, he'd pegged that one right, Dean saw as he watched Castiel's eyes dilate at the thought. The next thing he knew, he was pinned up against the wall with an armful of horny angel.  
  
"I like that idea," Castiel stated, nipping at his ear.  
  
Dean laughed. "Yeah, I thought you would. Come on, bathroom, now."  
  
He wasn't quite sure how they managed it, but Dean was pretty sure that they never lost contact with each other all the way into the shower. They were both already fully aroused by the time he actually turned on the water and thus it was no real surprise to Dean when he once again found himself pinned to a wall when the water started pouring over him. His dick twitched as he realized that he was going to get fucked. He'd planned on it being the other way around, but found that he didn't really care about this change of plan. He loved it when his lover went all possessive on him.  
  
"Mine!" Castiel declared, biting at the base of his neck.  
  
Dean groaned and bucked against his angel, feeling his lover's hand running down his chest, tracing the flow of water along his muscles. With one hand he reached up and turned the shower head towards them, so that they were more fully under the spray. When Castiel pulled back enough for him to get a good view of his lover, he could start to see what it was that drew Cas to the whole water kink. It was fascinating to watch the rivulets trace his angel's muscles, teasingly highlighting them and drawing his eyes down his torso towards his hips and below.  
  
"So, like showers then?" Dean asked.  
  
"Yes."  
  
Castiel was looking around and Dean fumbled for one of the bottles of complimentary shower gel. "Here, use this."  
  
It wouldn't work as well as proper lube, but right now Dean didn't care. If anything, the thought of being able to feel this tomorrow turned him on even more. Either Castiel was of the same opinion or he didn't know, but he just accepted the bottle and closed the distance between them once more. He found his lover's mouth and wrapped a leg around Castiel's waist when his angel pulled it up against him. He had a brief thought of positions before his lover tugged at his other leg. He hesitated briefly, but then remembered who he was dealing with here and did as his angel wanted, letting Castiel take his full weight. It was a little disconcerting that it hardly seemed to make a difference to Cas, but also a hell of a turn on and he rolled his hips against Castiel's, brushing their erections together.  
  
His moan turned into a mewl as Dean felt a slick finger touching his entrance, circling it once, twice, before pressing in. His head dropped back against the wall and he tightened his arms around Castiel's neck before he clamped down on the finger, trying to urge it to move harder and faster within him.  
  


* * *

  
Castiel's breath hitched in his throat at the feel of Dean's inner muscles tightening around his finger and the expression that crossed his mate's face. It made him want to replace his finger with his cock right away, but the knowledge that he'd injure his hunter stilled the impulse. Despite that, he worked to open Dean as quickly as possible, making him writhe in his arms with pleasure.  
  
He found that he liked this location very much. Not only did it allow him to watch the water running over his mate's body like a second skin, but it also gave him an excuse to hold Dean in his arm, his mortal's weight a small but significant burden that he liked to carry. It was probably the only way he'd be allowed to hold his mate in this capacity as his little hunter was so very proud and determined to prove that he could do things himself. It merely increased his desire to be able to just soothe him and take his heavy burdens from him, if only for a short while.  
  
Almost involuntarily, his wings came forward to cocoon his mate and it was all that Castiel could do not to let them brush up against Dean. Experience had taught him that his hunter was completely unaware of them, to the point of walking straight through them if he wasn't careful about withdrawing them in time. He tried hard not to let that disappoint him too much, Dean was human after all and humans were not supposed to be able to see an angel's wings. Well, not those that couldn't stand to see an angel's true form anyway and the knowledge that his mate was not one of those hurt though he knew it wasn't the hunter's fault. For some reason his Father had chosen not to bless his Righteous Man thus and he would just have to accept this decision.  
  
Despite that, he could still clearly recall the look of disbelief and stunned awe on his mate's face when Dean had seen the shadows of his wings and it made Castiel ache to know what seeing his actual wings would evoke within his human. Especially now that he had so many more pairs of them. Would it be anything like what he felt whenever Dean so inadvertently touched his wings? Those emotions were still something of a wonder to him. With his wings existing on another plane from his mate and everything else on Earth, he shouldn't feel anything when they touched Dean. It should be the same lack of feeling he got when they went through anything, or anyone, else. Yet, somehow, it was different with his mate.  
  
The first time it had happened, it had surprised Castiel so badly that he'd just fled, not sure what it meant or how to cope with those startling sensations. It had been like holding Dean's soul all over again and he knew that was what he was reacting to; the hunter's soul. Back then, before he'd been brought back for the second time by his Father, that was all it had felt like and, overwhelming as it was, it was absolutely nothing compared to what it was like now. The first time that had happened, several weeks after returning to Dean's side, he'd simply assumed it had to do with his altered status. That the fact that he was now an archangel and possessed so many more pairs of wings was what was making the emotions and sensations provoked upon touching Dean's soul so very different.  
  
It wasn't until his mate had first kissed him and Castiel had realized what it was he was feeling for the hunter that he'd realized just how wrong he was. He'd often heard his brothers and sisters talking about how differently a mate's touch felt from that of anyone else, but he'd never had occasion to discover this for himself and thus hadn't recognized the feelings for what they were. Although part of him wanted nothing more than to make the greatest use of this discovery, the rest of him felt bad about that desire. His mate could neither feel it nor understand it and that made him feel like he'd be using Dean to indulge this. Besides, it wasn't like there weren't enough other enjoyable ways to have his mate that Dean  _could_  feel and desire.  
  
Therefore Castiel forced his largest set of wings to hover just outside of touching distance and ignored the smaller pairs arrayed around him as he focused on his mate. He was three fingers in now and Dean's face was one of bliss as he moaned despite the fact that he could not free his second hand to stroke his hunter's cock. It didn't seem to matter to his mate and he spent a few seconds simply watching him as he scissored his fingers deep within him. Dean had his head thrown back as far as the shower wall would allow and water ran down his face and neck. He couldn't resist leaning forward to lick a long stripe up that barred throat before he started to nibble at it.  
  
One of Dean's hand released its hold on his shoulder and came to tangle in his hair. "Shit, Cas... more, now!"  
  
Castiel hummed, pretending to consider the request for a moment before pulling back and extracting his fingers from his mate. Dean whined at the loss and it made him hurry to slick up his cock before grasping the hunter's thighs and raising him enough so that he could position himself at Dean's entrance. The movement made his mate gasp, green eyes flying open to lock with his own and he watched them closely as he slowly lowered the hunter onto his cock. Pleasure entered them before they fluttered shut and he buried his head in his mate's neck, inhaling his scent.  
  


* * *

  
It was when he was ready for Castiel to start moving that Dean suddenly realized how little control he had over the situation. Not only was his lover the one topping him, but by doing this up against a wall with his legs wrapped around his angel, he had no real leverage either. Castiel was completely in control here and the fact that knowing this didn't even cause so much as a twinge of fear within him was startling. He never thought he'd find someone he trusted so much or felt so much for.  
  
Dean lowered his lips to his lover's ear and nipped at it. "Love you," he muttered. "Now move."  
  
Castiel's response was instantaneous and Dean groaned as his angel started moving within him, pulling almost all the way out before thrusting back in. As he'd expected, the gel wasn't nearly as good as normal lube, but the burn only added to the pleasure and he found himself moving his hips as much as he could, trying to encourage his lover.  
  
"Love you too," Castiel whispered back fiercely, releasing one of his legs to start stroking his cock.  
  
It felt so good and his lover's lips on his own were so distracting that it took Dean a few moments to realize that Castiel was holding him up with just one hand. The realization nearly made him come right then and there, the thought of just how strong his angel was still as much of a turn on as always.  
  
Then all rational thought left Dean and all he could focus on were the increasingly fast and erratic thrusts, the feel of Castiel's cock within him and the hand stroking his own dick to completion. He clenched his inner muscles and called out his lover's name as he came, feeling his angel follow him across, his cock pulsing and emptying itself inside of him.  
  


* * *

  
Castiel had his face pressed back into his mate's neck and, more importantly, the wall behind him. His free hand was planted against the wall as well on the other side of Dean's body. His hunter was pretty much limp in his arms, breathing heavily as he came down and it caused a strange sense of possessive satisfaction to rise within him to know that he was the one who had done that to his mate. He was the one whom Dean trusted enough to let go so completely and become so vulnerable around.  
  
It didn't take him long to regain himself but when he did, Castiel rested where he was a moment longer, simply enjoying the feel of holding his mate in his arms and resting within him even if he was spent for now. He pulled back just far enough to observe Dean and it didn't take long before his mate's eyes opened slightly to gaze back at him. He stole a few lazy kisses before his attention was diverted down to Dean's shoulder by the water that was still running over his body. The rivulets traced the hunter's skin in random patterns until they hit the mark he'd left whereupon they were diverted one way or the other.  
  
Almost without thought, Castiel had moved his free hand to touch the scar tissue, tracing its outline. Glancing back at Dean's face, he found his lover watching him through half-lidded eyes. He leaned forward for another kiss, nipping at his mate's lower lip.  
  
"Mine," Castiel declared softly, slotting his hand into place on his mark.  
  



	48. Chapter 47

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In need of angelic transportation and loath to disturb one of Cas' lessons with Michael, Dean turns to Raphael instead.

**PAST**  
  
  
Dean finally admitted defeat when the third hunt he thought he'd spotted that morning at breakfast turned out to be a bust upon further inspection with the use of his newly acquired laptop. He'd clearly been far too distracted as he was normally really good at sniffing out his sort of cases with minimal information. He just couldn't help it, though. They were already January and still no closer to finding a way of ending the Apocalypse. The worst thing was that they couldn't just kill the damn bastard- if that could even be called 'just'- as that would only serve to end the world as it was. Not to mention the millions that would die in the crossfire.  
  
The memory of how easily Michael had talked about the deaths of so many just the other day still made Dean angry. The archangel had come so very far since he'd first shown up in his motel room two months ago, but there still was a long way to go. He forgot about that at times, which was his own fault, but it only served to make the times when Michael said or did something to prove he hadn't yet fully understood the lesson his Father wanted him to learn all the harder. Despite himself, he'd come to like the archangel and he knew that colored his reactions to a certain extent. He'd definitely not have blown up quite as fiercely with Raphael as he had Michael if Raphael had said it. It was just that in coming to like the oldest archangel, he'd come to expect more of him then of Raphael.  
  
Dean tried to shake off the memory and focused instead on deciding what to do next. His search for new hunts was clearly a bust, he had no more books to read for Castiel and no idea for other avenues of investigation. He supposed that he could search the internet for information, but didn't really think it would be at all useful. His brother was far better at that sort of stuff and if Sam hadn't been able to find anything useful in two years of searching, then how could he? He'd just be wasting his time. The irony of the fact that he didn't even want to visit porn sites anymore now that he actually had his own laptop wasn't lost on him and made him smile. The fact of the matter was that he simply didn't find porn appealing anymore. Sure, he had no doubt that if he watched it he'd get aroused, he was still a guy after all, but the desire to go watch it was gone.  
  
Yeah, he was so whipped and the worst thing was that Dean knew it and didn't even care. Not really anyway. All of his old thoughts and opinions on porn and long-term relationships were gone even if he still didn't think he'd be able to handle such a relationship fulltime without the distraction of the Apocalypse. The key difference now, though, was the fact that he wished that he could do it. These types of thoughts inevitably led to him thinking about Castiel and he wished that his lover were here right now. He was tempted to call him, but he knew that his angel was busy training with Michael right now. He'd heard the two of them talking about it yesterday, working it in alongside all of Castiel's commitments in Heaven. It had made him pause, knowing how much his lover had to do and he was more grateful than ever for all the time Cas managed to spend with him.  
  
The ringing of his cell startled Dean out of his thoughts just as he was putting his laptop away. A quick glance at the screen showed a really long number he didn't recognize.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Mr. Winchester? Mr. Dean Winchester?" a heavily accented male voice inquired, mangling his name slightly.  
  
"Yes," Dean frowned. "Who is this?"  
  
"I am Father Giordano with Vatican Archives."  
  
Dean's eyebrows shot up at that. He honestly hadn't given his impromptu little trip to Italy much thought since getting back other then the stray thought when he saw or handled the Jewel of Abel. He definitely couldn't remember giving anyone there his number, so Castiel must have done that at some point and forgotten to tell him. Well, either that or his angel had told him when he'd been far too occupied with something else for it to register. Both possibilities were likely enough.  
  
"Did you find something?"  
  
The words were out of his mouth before Dean realized that the guy might have been expecting something a bit more polite first. Oh well, it was the Apocalypse, he was sure they could understand his urgency and desire to get right down to business. And if part of that was because he still felt uncomfortable on some level in dealing with men of faith who had dedicated their entire lives to the service of a God he still loathed and whom he most definitely was still furious with, then that was just for him to know. The mere thought of being upheld and treated like a savior as the priest they'd met the last time had done also made his stomach turn. It just made him feel like such an imposter to keep his mouth shut and not correct their assumptions, not that Castiel would have allowed him to make this point clear to the guy, and what hope did he have of convincing the priest otherwise if an angel said he was one of God's chosen?  
  
"Yes, we find several things. You come look?"  
  
"Uh, in Italy?"  
  
"No, no, in Vatican, main display room of Archives."  
  
"Oh, okay," Dean replied. "Let me see if I can get there."  
  
"Okay, you call back if no?"  
  
Could he even do international numbers on his phone plan? He couldn't quite remember now. "Sure."  
  
"Ciao."  
  
"Uh, bye."  
  
Dean was then left blinking at his cell as he tried to process all that had just happened. Then, however, the fact that those in charge of the Archives thought that they had found some stuff on Lucifer they deemed interesting enough to contact him about hit him and he felt some cautious excitement flare to life within him. Yes, he knew that it could well be nothing, but on the other hand, these were the  _Vatican_  Archives they were talking about. It was probably the single biggest depository of religious knowledge on the planet and it was one that they hadn't even been able to so much as peer into before. If there was anywhere on the face of the planet that might contain some useful information, this was it.  
  
He already had his finger on the number one which would speed dial Castiel before he stopped. It was only a few minutes ago that Dean had decided to leave his lover alone for the moment as he didn't want to interrupt his training with Michael. If things continued on as they were now, then Castiel would need to know as much as possible about his new powers and he was not going to stand in the way of that. Not when he had other options available to him. Part of his mind was screaming at him for even considering Raphael, but the rest of him knew that it wasn't as stupid as it sounded. After all, Raphael'd had ample time and opportunity to betray him since joining Michael visibly and he hadn't. Besides, Michael was but a call away if anything were to go wrong.  
  
The truth of the matter was that while Raphael was clearly still a pro-angel jerk of the highest order, Dean knew for a fact that he stood with Michael. Not only did he listen to and obey the older archangel, but he had been the one to pull his brother from the cage. That alone told Dean that Raphael was on their side to some extent as otherwise he could just as easily have left Michael where he was or pulled Lucifer out instead. While none of this implied that he was on  _Dean's_  side per se, Michael was and that put Raphael there as well for the time being. Not to mention the fact that Raphael had shown clear signs of being as devoted to his Father as his older brother was. It was just too bad that he'd interpreted His will so horribly in the past.  
  
The knowledge that there were people waiting for him made Dean push another button and he gritted his teeth, determined not to let the archangel goad him into an argument, no matter how much he might want to instigate one himself. The phone rang long enough that he was beginning to wonder if Raphael was even going to answer it before he remembered how clumsily the archangel handled the damned thing in the past.  
  
"Winchester."  
  
Wow, Dean had to admit that Raphael really could pack a lot into just three syllables. It was impressive in a way. "Raphael, are you free at the moment?"  
  
"Why?"  
  
 _Don't react, don't let him provoke you_. "Because something's come up that needs to be checked, something that may help us, but I can't get there on my own. I'm in North Carolina, just outside of Chapel Hill at the Fairview Inn, room seventeen."  
  
With that, Dean hung up. He knew it was a bit childish, but it was better than letting the archangel take another swipe at him that he might not be able to resist returning. Maybe it was better to call Castiel? Or perhaps Michael, then maybe Raphael could take over teaching his lover whatever it was that he needed to learn now.  
  
No, he wanted Castiel to be taught by the best that there was and that was Michael himself. Not only were they fast approaching the time when Lucifer would break out, but there was already an evil archangel on the loose doing God knows what. The fact that they had yet to find any trace of Simiel's presence or what she had been up to since getting out- and oh yeah, they didn't even know  _when_  exactly that had happened, though they suspected Lucifer himself had broken her free- didn't mean that she wasn't willing to do some serious damage herself. If anything, the fact that she seemed to be bidding her time made him even more nervous. It made him think that she was purposefully staying off the radar so that she could achieve some unknown goal and that  _terrified_  him.  
  
How could they hope to fight something they didn't even know was being put into motion and coming?  
  
Dean's train of thought was interrupted by the abrupt arrival of Raphael on the other side of the room. Funny how this particular angel never seemed to crowd his personal space. Telling, even.  
  
"What is this about and where do you need to go?" Raphael demanded coldly.  
  
"Lucifer and the Vatican."  
  
Two could play at that game and Dean counted it a success when the archangel's eyes narrowed at him. Odd how Raphael and Michael never had any problems displaying their anger even as they appeared hopeless with all other emotions. Just what had God been thinking creating them like that?  
  
"Winchester."  
  
"Alright fine, don't get your panties into a twist," Dean replied before he explained what he knew.  
  
"You think that these priests might have something of value?" Raphael demanded, his sneer audible in his tone.  
  
"They had the Jewel of Abel."  
  
"Fine. Where do we need to go precisely?"  
  
"The main display room of Archives," Dean replied. "Now just remember to play nice."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because these are men who have devoted their lives to worshipping your Father and honoring you and your siblings. Do you really want to make them learn to regret that or come to think less of God?"  
  
Dean knew he'd made his point when he caught sight of the flare of emotion in the archangel's eyes. He didn't even know why he'd felt it so important to make that point, but if he could get Raphael to act less superior around others, then it was worth it. Besides, part of him didn't want those guys to think any less of angels like Castiel just because of his brother's attitude.  
  
It took all that Dean had not to step back or flinch as Raphael closed the distance between them and raised two fingers to jab at his forehead. God he hoped that he didn't come to regret this!  
  
The transition from one place to another wasn't nearly as smooth as Dean had become used to and he just knew that Raphael, the bastard, hadn't taken the effort to accommodate his body the way that Castiel did. He was distracted from that, though, by the startled exclamations of those gathered in the large display room. As the name indicated, a lot of the Archives' material actually was on display here within large cases build expressly for that purpose. Unlike the ones he'd seen before, though, these were far smaller and had been built so that someone standing before them could get a good look at the artefacts they contained. The majority of the room, though, consisted of large tables upon whose surfaces a multitude of books and other artefacts now lay. Normally this was probably used to show visitors the material they had come to study, but now it looked like the only people present were a small army from the Catholic church itself. Everyone that he could spot wore either the black cassocks of a priest or a variety of more colorful robes that all screamed clergy to him.  
  
"Uh, hello," Dean said, feeling uncomfortable with all of the eyes aimed at them.  
  
"Mr. Winchester?" a man who had to be Father Giordano from his voice asked, stepping forwards.  
  
"Please, just call me Dean."  
  
"It is honor to meet you, Dean. And this? Is Castiel?"  
  
"No, no, not Castiel. Castiel white."  
  
That was another voice Dean recognized and he turned slightly to greet the first Vatican priest he'd met, suddenly realizing that he'd never gotten his name. "Hello again, Father...?"  
  
"Mancini. And this not Castiel."  
  
"No," Dean agreed, surprised the archangel was staying quiet but he figured reserved aloofness was better than outright condescension. Besides, it was probably exactly what they were expecting anyway. "This is Raphael."  
  
The name caused a ripple of excitement and disbelief to wash through the room and Dean could almost feel the archangel beside him come to attention. It annoyed him a little, but if this show of reverence and obvious respect made Raphael rethink some of his opinions about humans, then who was he to complain? He should have figured that it would take a more ego stroking approach to get through to this particular angel.  
  
"Let me introduce," Father Giordano said and started before Dean could protest.  
  
Rossi, Moretti, da Pontedra, Prima, Ferrari, Aiello, Barale, Canavacciuolo, Lippucci, Toffoli... the names rushed over him, for the most part going in one ear and out the other except for a few- and seriously, Ferrari?- that stuck. And even then, Dean doubted that he'd be able to correctly put those he remembered with faces and hoped that he never had to. Raphael, he was sure, could keep them all straight without any effort if he chose to do so.  
  
"Thank you," Dean said when the man had finally finished. "Now could you please show us what you've found?"  
  
The next few hours were spent sorting through the material that the Vatican holy men had unearthed within their Archives. The breadth of the material was seriously impressive, but soon Dean found himself starting to hate it with a passion. If he didn't have the fucking Apocalypse hanging over his head, he'd say to hell with it and take a well deserved and long break, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it, not when the key to their success could be buried somewhere in this material. Their first order of business was to weed out all of the material that they had already gone over from that which was new. He took one of the tables and was surprised when Raphael took another without any prompting. Either the archangel was trying to impress his audience or he saw the use and potential of what they were doing. Despite the fact that they would need to check each other's work as he'd gone through books at Bobby's that Raphael hadn't and the archangel had seen material he hadn't, it definitely sped things up.  
  
"This we know not," Father Mancini said, bringing another book to him. "Is language unknown to us all. No one can translate very well but some say Lucifer mentioned in here."  
  
"Enochian," Dean breathed, needing but a glance at the text to recognize it for what it was.  
  
He hadn't realized that he'd said it aloud until he heard the sharp intake of breath beside him. Looking up, Dean found that several of the men had turned to stare at him, their eyes wide. His attention was drawn to the archangel though as Raphael was looking at him in surprise as well.  
  
"What is it called?" Raphael demanded.  
  
"A Treatise on the Origin of Demons."  
  
It wasn't until he heard the whispered comments from the holy men that Dean realized that he'd not translated the title but instead read it out as Enochian. He ignored the words 'savior' and 'chosen' that he heard in favor of the surprised expression on the archangel's face.  
  
"You let Castiel into your mind."  
  
"Yeah? So?" Dean asked, defensive and not entirely sure why.  
  
"But you have resisted Michael for so very long."  
  
"That's different. Now, have you read this book before?"  
  
"No, I do not believe that we have a copy of it in Heaven," Raphael replied after a moment. "That may have been the one original kept there."  
  
Okay, it was definitely going to the top of the pile then. Dean was more then a little interested in it even if most of him cringed at the memories of exactly how demons were created now. Besides, something on the original creation of demons just had to mention Lucifer in some detail at some point.  
  
It was shortly thereafter that one of the men whose name Dean had already forgotten suggested that they stop for dinner. It took him a few moments to remember that Europe was ahead of the US time wise, and that was why he seemed to have missed lunch, but he was hungry enough to take the guy up on the offer even if it looked like Raphael planned to continue sorting through the material. It wasn't like he had anything to prove to the archangel, now was it?


	49. Chapter 48

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobby mulls over what he's learned and regrets his past decisions.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
It had been two hours since he'd returned to his motel room, but Bobby was still as restless as when he'd gotten out of the car and separated from Sam and his family. The events from earlier that day kept running through his mind and he just couldn't forget the way Dean had looked at him with such betrayal and hurt clear in his eyes. That boy had never been able to disguise his emotions from those who knew him well. It was those damn expressive eyes of his and this time they'd spoken volumes, of pain and broken trust and he just couldn't get it out of his head.  
  
 _He_  had been the one to put it there. Well, both him and Sam, but right now all he cared about was his own involvement. Bobby knew he could be an idjit himself at times, but he'd always tried to do right by those two boys. From their very first meeting when John had needed help dealing with a case and a secure place to leave them, the two had wormed their way into his heart, Dean in particular. He just couldn't help it, there had been something especially vulnerable and wounded about him despite all the strength and resolve he presented to the world.  
  
It had taken several encounters with John before the stubborn hunter had felt safe enough with him to tell Bobby the full story. He'd known that there had been a demon attack, but he hadn't realized that it had happened in their home and that Dean had been old enough to remember some of it. John had never been quite clear on exactly how much his eldest had seen and he could partially understand the other man's inability to ask. To know that your firstborn had seen his mother pinned to the ceiling, bleeding and burning, was something no father wanted, but he was quite sure that Dean had seen that and he was pretty sure John had known it as well, deep down.  
  
After hearing that, Bobby had found his fondness for Dean deepening though he'd always tried to be fair with the boys. Not only was it not Sam's fault that Dean managed to tug at the heartstrings he'd long thought dead, but Dean would have taken it the wrong way, thinking he was slighting Sam. The thought would normally have been enough to tug a reluctant smile from him though it had always been tinged with remorse. Dean had always been such a brilliant big brother, taking care of Sam, but it had often been to his own detriment and the lack of self-worth behind that was something that had always bothered and worried him. He'd tried to do what he could to show Dean he was wanted in his own right, but he wasn't sure it had ever been enough.  
  
All of which made the contrast to what he'd seen today that much greater. Bobby was well aware of how deeply Dean cared for his brother, it was what had led him to making that trice damned deal of his. The mere thought of it, and of how he could have prevented it if he'd only acted differently, was still enough to pain him greatly, but he pushed it aside. The point was that Dean cared far more for Sam then was either normal or healthy, so the fact that the boy had not contacted his brother earlier and acted so coldly to him today spoke volumes for how deeply he'd been hurt by Sam's decision to not contact him when he'd gotten out of Hell.  
  
Given that he'd gone along with Sam's decision, had allowed the younger Winchester to convince him that it was a good idea, that meant that he'd also hurt Dean that badly. And the worst thing was, they'd only been trying to make Dean happy. He never should have agreed to keep the truth from him, Bobby saw that now but he'd never thought it would lead to this. In addition to the evidence he'd seen with his own eyes, he couldn't forget Castiel's words either, about the state he'd found Dean in. Although the boy had cut the angel off, he had no doubt what Castiel had been saying, Dean had a habit of forgetting to take care of himself when stressed and that included not eating much which, given how much he usually wolfed down, was always bad.  
  
Finally unable to resist any longer, Bobby picked up his cell and scrolled down to Dean's number. The worst that could happen was that Dean would ignore his call and he'd just have to deal with that if it happened.  
  
The phone rang once, twice.  
  
"What do you want, Bobby?"  
  
Dean's voice was anything but welcoming, but he'd picked up and for that Bobby was thankful.  
  
"Dean, can I talk to you, please?"  
  
"About what?"  
  
"About what happened." A pause. "About what I did wrong and I'd like to apologize."  
  
"Where are you?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Where are you right now, Bobby, and is Sam there?"  
  
"No, I'm alone in my room at the Sundown Motel."  
  
"What room?"  
  
"Seventeen, why?"  
  
"Because if we're going to do this, we might as well do it right," Dean stated from behind him, making Bobby start in surprise.  
  
"Are you trying to give me a heart attack, ya idjit?" Bobby clutched at his chest as he closed his cell and looked around. "How'd you get here?"  
  
"Angel air."  
  
"Yeah, but there's no angel here."  
  
"Cas dropped me off on his way elsewhere."  
  
"They can do that?"  
  
"Zachariah plucked both me and Adam from yours that way."  
  
"Right, I'd forgotten about that."  
  
"What do you want, Bobby?"  
  
"I'm sorry," Bobby blurted out.  
  
It wasn't what he'd intended to say, but it might be for the better. Of the three of them, Dean had always had the greatest dislike for so-called chick flick moments. Though he himself wasn't quite as bad as Sam, he was more prone to them then Dean as he knew how much talking could help at the right times.  
  
"For what?"  
  
"For not telling you about Sam's return and for thinking that I knew what was best for you."  
  
Dean was watching him closely now, probably trying to assess if he was being honest. Bobby could only hope the boy could see the truth in his eyes.  
  
"How did you find out about Sam? Was it Castiel?" Bobby asked.  
  
"Yeah, he found me on the road and asked where Sam's stuff was as he couldn't see it in the room."  
  
Bobby winced at that. It was a horrible way to discover the truth and he could only imagine how betrayed Dean had felt, learning about it like that from someone who'd clearly expected him to already know about it. But, wait a minute.  
  
"On the road? You were already away from Lisa?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Why the hell didn't you come to me then?"  
  
"What did you expect me to do? Just pick up the phone and say 'Hey, Bobby, I fucked up my one chance at an apple pie life and Lisa's kicked me out, mind if I swing by and be moody?' Come on!" Dean snapped. "I needed some time to deal with it all on my own, you know me. Or at least that's what I thought anyway, now I'm not so sure."  
  
"No, Dean, I-"  
  
"I needed time, Bobby, but I was planning on returning to yours eventually, I really was. Right up until I heard about your betrayal anyway."  
  
"Dean, please."  
  
"Please what?"  
  
"Just let me explain."  
  
Bobby almost couldn't believe how hard a time Dean was giving him. The older Winchester brother was normally far more easy-going then this and was known for being far too forgiving. On some level, he'd always thought that seemingly bottomless well would run dry some day and apparently now it had. He just hoped there was enough forgiveness left for one more trespass.  
  
He took Dean's silence as permission to continue.  
  
"See, from the way I saw it, you were finally able to have the life you'd always wanted. You were settling down with a family you cared about and who we thought cared for you."  
  
Dean snorted and Bobby could practically feel the pain behind it. He knew the boy and knew that he'd tried as much as he was able to with that woman and her child. The fact that it hadn't worked out was sure to have left its scars on his already battered psyche and suddenly he wanted nothing more for to head down to Cicero himself and give Lisa Braedon a piece of his mind.  
  
"No, that is the life you and Sam wanted," Dean countered. "And you superimposed it on me."  
  
"You had mentioned it."  
  
"I had been thinking about it and thought I wanted it, there's a big difference. Unlike you and Sam, I'd never had that, not really, so I had no real idea what I was asking for."  
  
"But Sam said-" Bobby cut himself off, already regretting it.  
  
"Sam said what?" Dean asked and the older hunter hesitated. "Bobby."  
  
"Fine, he went by Lisa's after he got out and said that he saw you with them, that you looked happy and settled."  
  
"Apparently I'm good at pretending, it's one of the things Lisa accused me of."  
  
The bitterness in that tone made Bobby wince, not only for the sentiment, but also for drudging all of it up again.  
  
"I just wanted you to be happy for once instead of constantly being on the road, hunting and dealing with all of this Apocalypse stuff. I realize now that was wrong of me and that we should have told you about Sam's return, but you have to believe that I did it thinking it was best for you."  
  
With a sigh, Dean sat down in one of the room's chairs and Bobby took it as a good sign.  
  
"You know what, Bobby? Everything seems to be going to hell in a handbasket: the Apocalypse has been restarted, Lucifer is out, I can hardly look at Sam without wanting to strangle him and yet..." Dean shrugged. "I don't know, in some odd way I'm happier now than I ever was with Lisa."  
  
Bobby stared at him in surprise. "How?"  
  
"I dunno. I guess it's 'cause I know that Sam's not being tortured in Hell and that I'm not helpless to do anything about it. And, yeah, while I really thought that I wanted the normal, apple pie life, it really wasn't for me. I was bored out of my skull and all but wishing for something supernatural to come to Cicero just so I'd have the excuse of hunting it. Not to mention that it really didn't work between Lisa and me, we're just too different I guess."  
  
"Still, to be happier now, with everything that's going on, is a little strange even for you."  
  
Dean shrugged loosely at that and it made Bobby smile to see it. There was something so light and almost carefree about it that he couldn't quite pin down but knew was there. Actually, now that he thought about it, Dean looked good, like really good. There were no bags under his eyes and he looked well rested, he looked to be a good weight and not suffering from the weight loss he sometimes got when he was stressed, and his skin had what his wife had always called a healthy glow.   
  
"Yeah, well, what can I say?" Dean said, ducking his head slightly before giving Bobby that little boy smile that he hadn't seen in years and which made his heart leap in his chest. "Let's just say things sometimes happen for a reason."  
  
The boy had found someone, Bobby realized in amazement. Despite having been kicked out of Lisa's and picking up hunting again, Dean had found someone. Who or how he didn't have the first clue and though he wanted to ask, he didn't feel it within his rights to pry just now. He was simply glad that there was someone and it explained a lot, not the least of which was Dean's otherwise bizarre confession.  
  
"Okay, that's good, no, it's very good and I'm glad for you."  
  
"Thanks, Bobby."  
  
He was just trying to decide what else it would be appropriate to say and ask about when the air to his left shifted and suddenly Castiel stood in the room with them.  
  
"Hey, Cas," Dean greeted, getting to his feet. "You done already?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Almost inevitably, the angel stepped closer to Dean, as if drawn by some invisible magnet. Bobby had always wondered what it was about the boy that drew Castiel in the way that it did. He'd never meant that in a negative light, it was just pure intellectual curiosity. He'd always been drawn to the classification side of hunting and just wanted to know what it was that angels liked so much.  
  
"Still haven't managed to teach him about personal space, I see," Bobby teased as he looked back at Dean.  
  
At those words, Castiel apparently noticed exactly how close he was standing to the boy and backed up to a more appropriate distance. Dean seemed to war with a decision for a moment, looking at him and Bobby dearly wished he could read minds just then, before reaching out, grabbing a handful of the angel's clothing and dragging him right back, even closer than before.  
  
The hell?  
  
"Dean?" Castiel questioned.  
  
"I think we should tell him, what do you think?" Dean asked.  
  
Castiel looked up and considered him for a moment and though he didn't move from Dean's side, Bobby could almost feel him peeling back the layers and looking at his very soul itself. It made him swallow and want to fidget, but he resisted the temptation, letting the angel do what he felt necessary. It had been Castiel and neither himself nor Sam who had been there when Dean had needed someone the most, so letting him see his sincerity now to stand by the boy was the least he could do.  
  
"No," Castiel finally replied and Bobby felt his heart drop for a second. "I think we should show him."  
  
"Show me what?" Bobby inquired, noting how Dean's eyes widened in surprise.  
  
Then, before he could do or say anything else, Castiel's hand closed around Dean's neck and pulled him down into a kiss and all rational thought abandoned Bobby. Instead he could only stand there and stare in disbelief at the two of them kissing without the slightest hint of hesitation on Dean's part despite having been caught off-guard. His first thought was that it wasn't possible, that he had to be hallucinating or something, but then things started to click into place. Dean and Castiel's behavior earlier during the confrontation, the angel's complete inability to respect Dean's personal space in the past, the boy's earlier confession that he was happier now then before with Lisa, Dean's apparent good health as if someone were clearly looking after him and the way Castiel had seemed prepared to ruin old friendships in Dean's defense.  
  
"You've been waiting to do that in front of someone other than your family, haven't you?" Dean accused when they separated.  
  
"Perhaps," Castiel replied, but Bobby could see a hint of smugness and self-satisfaction in his eyes when the angel looked back at him. "Will this be a problem for you?"  
  
"A problem? What, the fact this idjit finally has someone who seems to be looking after him right?" Bobby stated, pleased to see Dean scowl at that. "No, of course not."  
  
"Good."  
  
"I can take care of myself!" Dean protested.  
  
"No, you can't."  
  
The fact that both Castiel and himself said the same thing at about the same time, making Dean huff and scowl at them healed something inside of Bobby that had broken at Dean's abrupt and cold greeting that morning. He wasn't stupid enough to think that things would smooth out between them immediately, not after what had happened and how long Dean had probably been nursing the betrayal for, but it definitely looked like he was going to be given the chance to make it up to him and that was already more then he'd hoped for.  
  
"We need to go," Castiel said.  
  
"Wait, I'll see you again, right?" Despite his earlier thoughts, Bobby needed to be sure.  
  
"Yeah, you will," Dean reassured him. "You have both mine and Cas' numbers and we know where you live."  
  
"Is there anything I can do to help?"  
  
"Yeah, get the sasquatch prepared for the ritual. He'll need to go through a complete cleansing before we can start in earnest, so you might as well get that started now."  
  
"Okay, I'll do that."  
  
He'd been hoping for a bit more, but realized that he probably had to earn back some more trust before he was given any further information on what Dean and the angels were working on. And wasn't that something? Bobby would never have thought he'd ever be thinking something like that.  _Dean and the angels_. It wasn't that he didn't know the boy had a heart of gold buried beneath all of his bluster and macho bullshit, but Dean also dearly loved two of the seven deadly sins and had never been anything but scornful towards religion. Although it was probably just the one sin these days given his new relationship status, and wouldn't  _that_  take a while to really sink in?  
  
When Castiel raised his fingers to Dean's forehead, Bobby expected to be alone in the room within a fraction of a second, but instead found that only the boy had vanished.  
  
"If you hurt him again, I won't let you close enough to try a third time," Castiel warned before vanishing, leaving an astounded hunter behind.  
  



	50. Chapter 49

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While on a hunt, Dean's instincts start to act up big time.

**PAST**  
  
  
Dean stood in the shadows of the forest, eyes narrowed as he observed the old abandoned house illuminated by the light of the full moon. His every instinct was screaming at him that something wasn't right here; that something was very,  _very_  wrong. If there had been flashing lights and a blaring siren, his instincts would still have drowned it all out, that was how bad he felt about this situation and he wasn't one to ignore his instincts at the best of times.  
  
The hunt had started out simple enough and seemed straightforward. Maybe a little too straightforward now that he thought about it, Dean mused. The article in the paper had instantly caught his eye despite the lack of casualties and all but screamed poltergeist to him. All of his follow-up research had seemed to confirm this, eyewitness reports about an apparently haunted old house where the impossible happened but was written off by the authorities as the drunken antics of teenagers who'd snuck out at night where they shouldn't have.  
  
And just how often was any case he worked that easy? Dean could almost count on both his hands the number of times he'd had hunts that were so straightforward and obvious to solve that he went from reading about them to being prepared to gank the little sucker in under twenty-four hours. Which brought up another point. Just how often did a hunt just  _happen_  to be in the next town over from where he was at the time of learning about it?  
  
No, something was definitely not right here, but Dean just wasn't immediately sure what it was. The more he pondered it, though, the more he had the distinct impression that he was being lured into a trap here. That he was the one who was being hunted, but by something that was too afraid to come at him directly and was thus trying to do so from behind while he was occupied with the illusion in front of him. He wasn't sure what made him think of that in the first place, but all of the pieces definitely seemed to fit that scenario. The fact that the hunt just so happened to be nearby, the fact that he could immediately tell from the newspaper story that it was his type of case, the fact that no one had really died, the fact that this house was all the way out here in the woods, perfectly isolated from anyone who might happen to overhear something and foolishly rush in to help or run to call the cops.  
  
The one thing Dean didn't have the first clue about, though, was who or what he was dealing with here. Given his line of work, the list was long and varied, but nobody immediately sprang to mind and that bothered him. Nothing about the pattern thus far gave him any potential leads and while he wanted to just rush on in and find out, he knew that to do so could be lethal. Despite what many people thought, John Winchester hadn't raised fools and Dean didn't always rush in blindly. Especially not when there was nothing at stake. No one was missing or hurt, so he could take all the time he wanted, even waiting out here until his would-be attackers figured he wasn't coming and gave up.  
  
He could do that, if he had the patience for it. Thing was, though, Dean  _didn't_  possess a ton of that particular virtue at the best of times and just now his levels were particularly low. This hunt was supposed to be a reprieve, dammit! Just a quick little break from researching before he literally hit the books again, not some massively involved affair that took a ton of time. He'd just needed a breather before he started climbing the walls out of sheer boredom. Tempting as it was to use this as an excuse to prolong his break, he could all but hear an invisible clock ticking down and it reminded him far too much of those last few months before Hell for his comfort and peace of mind.  
  
Well, if he couldn't go in alone and he wouldn't wait out here, then he'd just have to shift the odds in his favor.  
  
"Dean," Castiel said, picking up on the first ring.  
  
"Hey, Cas. Do you have a minute or are you busy just now? I've got a situation and could use your help."  
  
The flutter of wings behind him had Dean turning around even as he put away his cell. It was nice that he now no longer had to rattle off his location every time he wanted his lover to join him, but in cases like this it was particularly helpful as he'd left the last road sign a ways back.  
  
Castiel looked surprised upon appearing before him and Dean frowned. "Something wrong, Cas?"  
  
"You knew exactly where to look to see me arrive."  
  
"Well, yeah."  
  
"How did you know?"  
  
Dean's eyebrows raised as he tried to figure out why this was an issue. "I know how tall you are, Cas."  
  
"No, I meant where I would appear."  
  
"Oh, well, I heard your wings behind me," Dean explained and felt the bottom of his stomach drop out at the slight widening of his lover's eyes. "Shit, let me guess, I'm not supposed to be able to do that, right?"  
  
"No, Dean, you are not. My wings are a manifestation of my Grace and are thus on a different plane of existence from my vessel or yourself. Therefore they, and all aspects of them, should be beyond your abilities to perceive, be it visual or auditory."  
  
"Well that's just dandy!"  
  
"You cannot see them, right?"  
  
There was a foreign note in Castiel's voice as he asked this and it made Dean pause, trying to figure out what it was but failing to do so. He filed it away for further contemplation when he had the time- yeah, right!- though it bugged him that he couldn't immediately decipher something about his angel. It had been far too long since that had last happened and made him feel some of the distance that remained between them and on some level always would simply by nature of the fact that they were different... hell, what was the right word anyway? Species? Creatures? Beings?  
  
Crap, classification had never been his thing anyway, but even if Dean couldn't put it into words, he could still feel that distance and it bothered him. He couldn't even see Castiel's true form for God's sake! What the hell did that say for their relationship chances anyway? He had a brief vision of himself and his lover on Dr. Phil's show before he shoved it aside, far too uncomfortable with the whole issue to dwell on it any longer.  
  
"No, I can only hear them," Dean replied.  
  
"Were you always able to do so?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"You used to startle quite badly when I flew to your side, but now you no longer do."  
  
That was a good point. Dean bit his bottom lip as he tried to remember. "No, now that you mention it, I don't think I used to be able to hear you coming. But I can't remember just suddenly being able to do so either. I'd just always figured I'd gotten used to you popping in all over the damn place."  
  
Castiel made a noncommittal noise, head tilted as he studied him closely and Dean fought the impulse to start shifting under that intense focus. It wasn't at all like when they were alone together somewhere private and things were about to get heated real fast. No, this was completely different and instead made him think of Michael and the scrutiny the archangel had subjected him to on more then one occasion as he tried to figure him out. It didn't make him uncomfortable exactly, he trusted his lover far too much for it to do that, but it did make him self-conscious in a way he hadn't felt in a long time. A surprisingly long time now that he actually thought about it. With Michael it had never made him feel that way as he'd always been far too angry or amused for it to edge into that and it was ironic that it was his angel that was now evoking the emotion within him after being the one to all but banish it in the first place.  
  
"Well?" Dean finally demanded.  
  
"I do not know, we will have to mention it to Michael, but I doubt he will know what it means either," Castiel replied before his lips quirked. "I am beginning to think that my brother is correct, you really are far more then you seem, even more so then I had always assumed."  
  
Dean scowled at those words. "Dude!"  
  
"And I too look forward to discovering exactly what Father intended when He created you."  
  
"No, not cool, Cas,  _so_  not cool."  
  
"Then how would you explain all of this, Dean?"  
  
"I dunno, but that doesn't mean that this is all part of some larger destiny crap thingy!"  
  
"No, of course not."  
  
He narrowed his eyes at his lover, sure that he was being humored but Dean knew that he couldn't take it any further because if there was one thing Castiel was good at, it was talking him around in circles until he ended up saying or agreeing to something he totally didn't mean to.  
  
"So," Castiel said, apparently having mercy on him. "What was it you required my help for?"  
  
Glad for the distraction, Dean quickly filled him in on what he knew and his suspicions.  
  
"You are right that there is nothing supernatural at work here," Castiel stated as he observed the house. "All I can detect is the presence of two humans, adult males if I am not mistaken, and they are filled with malice towards you."  
  
"You can tell that?"  
  
Castiel shrugged a little and Dean couldn't help but grin at that as he knew it was entirely due to his influence.  
  
"I may be a little more sensitive with regards to matters that pertain to you," Castiel admitted.  
  
"Aw," Dean teased with exaggeration to cover the way his heart leapt in his chest. "Cas, how romantic." And hey, the dark look his lover sent his way before returning his attention back to the abandoned house told Dean that he was finally starting to make progress on the sarcasm front as well. Sometimes he just loved being a bad influence. "Seriously, though, can you tell anything else?"  
  
"No, not from here."  
  
"Okay, so what you say we go turn their little trap around on them then?"  
  
The look Castiel sent his way now would have made Dean cower a little inside if it had been on the face of any other angel. As it was, though, it simply made his traitorous heart trip within him once more as he recognized the mix of possessive anger and fierce protectiveness for what it was. How many times had he felt that way towards those who had meant to hurt his little brother? To have it there on someone's face for him was intoxicating in a startling way he'd never expected even as part of him took offense at the implication that he couldn't take care of himself.  
  
"They will be expecting you to enter through one of the doors or windows in the normal human fashion."  
  
"Yeah," Dean confirmed before he realized what his lover was saying and a wicked grin spread across his face. "Cas, I like the way you think!"  
  
"Thank you."  
  
With two fingers, Castiel transported them inside and Dean raised his shotgun as he scanned the room. Even though he was dealing with two humans instead of a poltergeist, he knew from personal experience how well salt rounds could knock someone on their ass for long enough for him or his angel to disarm them. Once he had the layout of the room, he turned back to his lover and followed behind him as Castiel led the way out of the room and through the house.  
  
"I don't think he's coming," a horribly familiar voice drifted up to them followed by violent sneezing as they stepped through a doorway onto what had once been a landing overlooking the front entrance of the house.  
  
From the shadows, Dean could look down and confirm what he already knew. The two people who had set this trap for him were none other than Roy and Walt. His fingers tightened on the shotgun as fury and pain shot through him. There mere memory of seeing his Sammy gunned down so violently and senselessly would have been enough to tear through him even without the echoes of what he'd felt at the time compounding everything. Yes, he may be so angry with his brother at the moment that he could hardly think of him, but that didn't mean anything just now. These two good-for-nothing hunters had broken into their room and slaughtered Sam without so much as giving him a chance to explain what had happened.  
  
"Dean!"  
  
Castiel's hissed tone was accompanied by a gentle but firm hand on his bicep and Dean tore his gaze from the two men arguing in heated whispers to his lover. The slightly worried expression on his angel's face slowly made him realize that his own features were twisted in fury and hate and he forced himself to relax somewhat before he did something stupid that he'd regret later. Although he wanted nothing more then to shoot Walt between the eyes- or even better, practice some of what he'd learned from Alistair on the guy first before putting him out of his misery- he had never killed a human in anything other than self-defense and he knew, really  _knew_ , that he'd regret it later if he allowed his rage to get the better of him now.  
  
"You know them," Castiel stated.  
  
"Yeah," Dean forced out in a whisper. He hesitated before continuing, not sure how his lover would react to knowing that these were the hunters that had snuck into his and Sam's motel room and slaughtered them. He couldn't think of a way around it though. "They're the ones that shot Sam and me that time we went to Heaven."  
  
As he'd feared, Dean watched his lover's face twist into an enraged mask and it was his turn to clamp his hand down on Castiel's arm. There was no way that he'd allow his angel to do something that could get him into trouble with his brothers now, not after how far he'd come and how he'd taken command of the Host.  
  
"I want to kill them," Castiel declared fiercely.  
  
"Yeah, I know, me too," Dean admitted. "But you know we can't."  
  
"Why not? They dared harm you."  
  
"Because they're human, Cas. Come on, you know this."  
  
"I do not have to like it."  
  
"You and me both pal, you and me both."  
  
Castiel had turned just enough to look back down at the unsuspecting duo and if looks could kill, Roy and Walt would be crispy critters right about now. Dean took solace in that fact even as he tried desperately to figure out what to do here. One or both of the hunters must obviously have spotted him while he'd gone about his business in the next town over and they'd decided to set up this little ploy to draw him in. The question was, what for? If he was honest with himself, he knew the reason, it would have been the same thing that he'd have done if he'd caught sight of someone he  _knew_ , beyond a shadow of a doubt, to be dead walking about.  
  
Besides, even if Dean couldn't see the logic of why they were doing what they were now- even if he'd never be able to agree with what they had done before- he also knew that they simply couldn't afford to lose two damn fine hunters. Not now with everything going to hell in a handbasket. The supernatural world was in an uproar with things that normally stuck to the dark venturing out into the light of day and they were hardly keeping up with things as it was. No, they needed all the hands they could get, but there was no way that he was letting them, and Walt in particular, away unscratched either.  
  
"What do we do now then?" Castiel demanded.  
  
Dean felt a predatory smile cross his face as something came to him. "I know just the thing."  
  



	51. Chapter 50

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel takes pleasure in carrying out Dean's plan.

**PAST**

 

"Damnit, Walt!" Roy complained, needing to stop so he could cough. "I'm telling you, he's not coming!"

"And I'm saying that we stay a while longer to be completely sure. Now shut up and stop coughing and sneezing."

Roy snorted. "Not like I can help it, I told you digging up that grave in the rain was a bad idea."

"Oh quit your moaning, you'd almost think that you want Winchester to hear us. You're not going soft on me now are you, Roy?"

"You just can't leave that alone, can you? You try shooting one of your friends when you know perfectly well that there's nothing wrong with them."

"You knew just as well as I that we couldn't have left him alive, not Dean Winchester, not after what we'd done. He'd have been after us like a dog with a bone. Hell, you were the one who told me all about how his old man was with that demon. Did you really want to be running from that for the rest of your life?"

"I still say we should have waited until we got Sam on his own."

"Like that would have stopped Winchester from finding out that we were responsible," Walt scoffed. "Besides, the very fact that he's back just like he said he'd be is proof enough that we were on the right track. Humans don't just get back up and start living again, not from a shotgun blast to the chest at point-blank range. He'd already gone bad, just like his brother. Pair of rotten eggs, the two of 'em and the world's better of without them."

The sudden flickering of the light Roy had turned on when he'd first figured that their plan wouldn't work froze both men in place, a cough dying on Roy's lips.

"You did sweep this place before you chose it, didn't you Walt?" Roy demanded, eyes darting about.

"Of course I did, I'm not some stupid rookie. EMF came up completely negative."

"Great, so that rules out anything simple."

Walt was just opening his mouth to reply when they both jumped at the loud clap of thunder outside before the room was plunged into semi-darkness.

"What in God's name?" Roy muttered, turning his back to his partner to cover the other side of the room.

"Do not blaspheme."

The voice spoke right into his ear, making Roy jump and cry out, sure he could feel the breath ghosting over his skin.

"What?" Walt demanded, turning to look at his partner.

"Someone was just next to me."

"You sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure!"

"Fuck, what the hell is going on here? Demons, you think?"

"I don't think so, the thing told me off for blaspheming."

"Could be a ploy to mislead us. I bet it's Winchester, the bastard's probably not even human anymore, if he even still was when I pumped him full of lead. Should'a used consecrated iron and rock salt. That would'a-"

Walt's words cut off with a sharp cry as he was suddenly flung across the room to crash into an old oak table that collapsed on impact.

"Walt!" Roy called out, spinning around to face the direction his partner had been in.

As before, there was nothing there and Roy felt his heart leap into his throat, terrified and completely unsure of what they were dealing with here. The most immediately obvious answer was a demon, but that just didn't gel with what had been whispered into his ear. Nor did it explain the sudden storm outside, complete with violent flashes of lightning now and huge gusts of wind that tore at the dilapidated house and rushed inside through a number of holes, making dust and all manner of other debris swirl up into the air around him, making it harder to see and forcing him to raise one hand to shield his eyes.

Sure, Roy had heard of the more powerful demons that could control this kind of shit, but why would they bother? It wasn't like he or Walt were anything special or even that they'd pissed off a demon recently. They were just average, run of the mill hunters who did their job without going out of their way to piss off particular demons like John Winchester and his boys had. He could easily remember the fire that had burned in the older man's eyes when he'd talked about that particular demon. He's always thought it insane to chase after a demon like that and he'd been right given how things had turned out. But that still didn't explain what was going on here. He couldn't image that the house was particularly important- it was a wreck for God's sake!- so what did that leave if it wasn't them or the location? No way they were unlucky enough to just be random targets.

A low moan reminded Roy of his partner and he slowly made his way towards Walt, scanning the room diligently as he went. It was no use, though, every time he thought he spotted something, it turned out to be just debris being blown about and he'd wasted more than one round on the stuff already. Christ but he had to get a hold of himself, he was a hunter and should be used to this shit. He tried to recall the last time he'd been this afraid on a hunt and failed. The prickling at the back of his neck that made him feel like he was being watched also didn't help either. Nor did the electric charge in the air that fairly thrummed of power that didn't belong to the story tearing away outside.

It was as he got closer to Walt that Roy realized his partner's gun was nowhere to be seen and he cursed. It wasn't until he was two more steps closer that he realized he hadn't blasphemed and he felt anger awake within him at that. No way was he letting some supernatural creature tell him what to do!

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Roy said loudly, daring the thing to come at him.

"I told you not to blaspheme."

The voice was right beside him once more and Roy's head snapped around only for his gaze to be captured by two impossibly blue eyes that seemed to be made of stone. For half a second, he was frozen by the sheer power that the being seemed to radiate and the nearly overwhelming desire that rose within him to back away slowly and raise his hands; to prove that he wasn't a threat. If he'd been a dog, he would have said he was feeling the equivalent of lying down and bearing his stomach and throat to the alpha.

Though incredibly strong, the instinct was shoved aside quickly enough and Roy felt almost relieved. Now this was much more like what he was used to and what he'd trained countless hours to resist and gank properly. Unfortunately for him, the half-second pause was too much and his shotgun was torn from his hands and tossed aside before he could even think about bringing it to bear on the creature before him. Instead of looking enraged, the being looked faintly amused.

"Anything else you would like to try?" it demanded as if speaking to a small child.

His anger flared even further within him and Roy reached slowly back to his knife as he tried to figure out exactly what was standing in front of him. A demon was still the first thing to come to mind as it looked entirely human even if it's presence was unlike anything he had ever experienced before. The sudden appearing and disappearing was also a strong indicator of demonic possession as was the strength he'd felt when his weapon had been wrenched out of his hands as if he hadn't been holding onto it tightly.

"What the hell are you?" Roy demanded, more as a distraction then out of any real hope that the creature would tell him.

Apparently it had been the wrong thing to say as the being's face instantly darkened and Roy took an involuntary step backwards at the sheer menace that now emanated from it along with the power he'd felt earlier.

"I am an... acquaintance of someone you have betrayed most grievously."

"What? Who?"

Roy had just pulled his knife from its sheath at the back of his pants when strong fingers closed around his wrist and his arm was expertly twisted so that his backup weapon fell from nerveless fingers even as he was spun around on the spot.

"Don't even think about trying it," Dean growled, face a mask of fury and eyes blazing.

"D- Dean," Roy sputtered, eyes wide in surprise as fear started to mix in with his anger.

"Roy. I'd say it's good to see you again, but then I'd be lying."

"Dean, please."

"Please?" Dean asked, eyebrows rising. "Please what, Roy? Please have mercy? If so, why should I? It's not like you showed my brother and I any when you slaughtered us without a chance to explain what was going on."

"He'd started the Apocalypse and was drinking demon blood!" Roy retorted, catching the surprise in his old friend's eyes. "What, you think we hadn't heard of that last?"

"You had no right."

"Please, if our positions had been reversed, you would have done the same. Sam was no better than anything else we hunt. Who the hell even thinks of drinking demon blood, much less actually doing it?"

Dean's face twisted at that and Roy felt a little hope that he might yet get out of this alive.

"And what? I was just collateral, was I?"

"Dean, I swear that I had no idea that Walt was planning to do that to you."

"Didn't stop you from just standing by, now did it?"

"He had a valid point and maybe even more than one."

"Oh and what does that mean?"

"What the hell are you, Dean? Are you even still human? You were dead, I saw it myself and yet here you are with this thing."

"His name is Castiel and he's not a thing."

Roy's eyes widened as he recognized the hint of steel in Winchester's voice. Though they hadn't spent a ton of time together, it had been more than long enough for him to learn to recognize that particular tone. In the past it had always come up when someone trash talked Dean's father or brother and it was just more weight towards Walt's theory that the other hunter now saw some creature in that same regard. He opened his mouth to call Winchester on it but started sneezing instead.

"Dude, gross!" Dean snapped, stepping back a bit.

The thought that he could use this to his advantage vanished when Roy felt cold metal click into place around his wrist. He started struggling immediately, but a second pair of hands from behind pinned his arms down and held him securely until Dean had cuffed his wrists together.

"Let me go!" Roy barked. "What the hell are you going to do to us?"

"Wouldn't you just like to know?"

 

* * *

 

Dean let Castiel deal with Roy as he approached the groaning form of Walt. He couldn't help but smile as he took in the felled man. The collision with the table was sure to have left its mark and he felt absolutely no sympathy for the other man, fellow hunter or not. Walt should just be thankful to have gotten off so lightly for what he'd done as he deserved so much worse then this. He was just glad that his lover had been able to restrain himself as Heaven only knew that he'd not have had the heart to stop him if his angel had decided a more permanent punishment was called for.

When he reached the felled hunter, Dean pulled out the second pair of handcuffs that he didn't even want to know where Castiel had gotten. Once he'd restrained Walt, he found that he just couldn't be bothered to pick the reviving man up and instead dragged him over to where his angel had forced Roy to sit on a chair that looked like it might collapse under the weight of him at any moment.

"Watch it!" Roy snapped.

Dean snorted. "You'll have to forgive me if I'm not overly concerned with the comfort of my killer."

"What are you?"

"One hundred percent human."

"Yeah, right," Roy replied, the sarcasm ruined by a cough. "Humans don't come back from the dead still human."

"Yeah, that's what I used to think too, but it turns out that depends entirely on how they get brought back. Trust me, the first thing Bobby Singer did was try every revealing method on me that he could." Well, Bobby had the first time he'd been brought back to life anyway.

Roy looked like he wanted to snort but ended up sneezing violently instead. "Trust you, yeah, right. _That's_ not gonna happen."

Dean bit back his frustration and merely shrugged instead. It wasn't like he could really fault Roy for thinking like that now, not when he'd have done the exact same thing only three years ago. What he could, and most definitely did, fault him for though was for what had come before. This whole scenario did make him incredibly grateful that he and Sam weren't particularly well connected with a lot of other hunters or there'd have had nothing but trouble after Castiel had resurrected him.

"The other is awake," Castiel stated suddenly.

"Yeah, I noticed," Dean replied, nudging Walt with the toe of his boot. "Stop playing possum, Walt, you're not any good at it."

For a moment it looked like Walt might try and continue the charade before he rolled himself into a seated position and glared up at Dean. "Winchester."

Dean smiled. "I thought you believed I was just some creature or monster."

"You can claim to be human all you want, but I know better."

He hadn't decided to really try and convince them of the truth, but when Dean caught sight of the flask at Walt's hip engraved with an elaborate cross, he figured that he might as well. He reached down and grabbed the flask, stepping back quickly before the other hunter tried to headbutt him or bite.

"Holy water, right?" Dean checked, unscrewing the cap.

He took the lack of reply as a yes and took a deep swig, making a show of swallowing it. Dean could see the surprise in their eyes and knew that they'd most likely pegged him as a demon. He wasn't sure if they were aware that particularly powerful demons like Azazel could withstand Holy water, but he wasn't going to check.

"That doesn't prove anything. You could still be a revenant or shifter or-"

Walt cut off warily as Dean pulled Roy's knife back out. "Silver, right Roy?"

"Yeah," Roy confirmed, voice and posture cautious and uncertain.

Dean felt a sliver of dark satisfaction at the thought of making his old friend realize just how badly he and his partner had fucked things up. It was similar to the pleasure he'd gotten watching the two hunters react to Castiel's little show earlier. He knew it wasn't quite right, but it felt like poetic justice of a sort for what they'd done to him and it wasn't like they'd been in any real danger, so he'd let it slide. It felt nice to stand up for himself like this for once instead of just taking it.

Without any hesitation and making sure both of the hunters could see his face, Dean cut his palm with the knife. Then, knowing what they'd think next, he rattled off a bunch of info about Roy that an imposter wouldn't know. Roy was starting to look convinced, but if Walt was, the expression on his face made it clear that he didn't care.

"So you're a human working for a demon, personally I think that's worse," Walt spat.

A human working for a demon? Oh, Castiel. Dean bit his lip at the thought, at least he wasn't the only hunter to have mistaken his lover for a demon. He wondered what that said about them?

"You mean, Cas?" Dean inquired innocently. "He's not a demon. Here, Cas, drink this."

Dean handed the flask over so his lover could take a sip.

"You gonna try and tell us that storm just happened to come out of nowhere too?" Walt demanded.

"Hell no, that was all Cas, I'm not even going to try and deny that. I'm merely proving that he's not a demon. Not all supernatural creatures are evil and need to be killed."

Roy's eyes narrowed suddenly. "Okay, now I _know_ something's not right. The Dean Winchester I knew would never have said that."

"What can I say? You live, you learn, and Sammy taught me not to take things at face value."

"That how he talked you into all of this?" Walt questioned. "That why you stood around and did nothing while he jump-started the 'pocalypse?"

"Dean did nothing of the sort," Castiel interjected. "He repeatedly warned his brother off the path he was taking and did what he could to prevent Sam from doing what he did."

"Obviously he didn't do a very good job of it. Besides, why should I believe a word you say, creature?"

"It is the truth."

"In my experience your kind don't even know the meaning of the word."

"What are you?" Roy demanded.

"I am an angel of the Lord," Castiel replied before Dean could stop him.

"An angel?" Roy laughed and ended up coughing instead. "You know, Winchester, I always knew you were many things, but I never took you for one prone to having those kinds of delusions. So, what, you think you're the Second Coming?"

"No," Dean replied.

"He is the Righteous Man, the only one who can end the Apocalypse."

Crap but Dean wished he'd remembered to have a chat with his lover before they'd started this. Castiel really couldn't just go around telling people all of this shit. They'd think he was absolutely crazy, not to mention that it was downright embarrassing to be hailed as a savior like that before others. It was bad enough when it was just the two of them.

Walt looked like he didn't know whether to laugh or rage away and Dean wondered if it was time to end this. It had been fun, but he and Castiel really needed to get going and turn their attention back to the really important things.

"There's no such thing as angels," Roy declared and it reminded Dean that they'd always agreed on that particular issue.

"Angels are supposed to have wings," Walt said. "You have none."

The words made Dean frown. He'd never have pegged the hunter as the religious sort, but it did make a certain kind of sense when it came to his actions regarding Sam. And well, if nothing else, his little brother had proven that he really wasn't any good at figuring out someone's religious beliefs and actions. He still couldn't believe Sam had used to pray every day, but he bet that habit had ended a while ago.

"No, they are simply not visible on this plane of existence," Castiel explained.

"Convenient," Roy snarked.

"Prove it," Walt challenged.

"No," Dean stated before he even realized his intention to speak.

"What?"

"I said no. You don't deserve to see them, not after what you did."

Suddenly wondering if he'd overstepped a bound, Dean glanced at his lover to see if Castiel was okay with what he'd said. He was surprised to detect relief in those blue eyes and wondered if there was something about angelic etiquette that he didn't know about. Now that he thought about it, his angel had only ever shown the shadows of his wings to two people as far as he knew; himself and Father Mancini. No one else, not even Sam, had been granted the privilege of seeing them and if he was certain of one thing, it was that doing so really was a privilege and one he had absolutely no intention of sharing with these two assholes unless Castiel wanted to do so.

"We did what needed to be done!" Walt protested.

"No, your actions could have resulted in the end of the world if Father had not intervened on Sam and Dean's behalf," Castiel argued.

"Father?" Roy exclaimed.

Since Dean had turned almost all of his attention back to their two captives, he hadn't noticed Castiel getting closer until his lover took his hand in his own and the next thing he knew, the cut had been healed. At first he didn't think much off it, he'd gotten so used to his angel healing him of every injury he sustained that it barely registered anymore, but then he caught sight of the looks on the faces of the other two hunters.

"That doesn't prove anything," Walt declared, sounding like he was trying to convince himself more than anything.

"Okay, enough of this, we don't have time for twenty questions or show and tell," Dean stated. "Cas, just do it and let's get out of here. I actually have the urge to hit the books for once."

"And you claim that miracles do not happen," Castiel replied dryly.

Dean's next words never made it as far as his mouth as the meaning of his lover's words penetrated and he turned to stare at him. He couldn't believe his angel had just said that! Castiel really was starting to get the hang of humor.

"Whoa, wait!" Roy protested. "Do what?"

"I'll kill you, Winchester," Walt threatened. "Somehow, somewhere, I'll find a means of ganking you permanently."

"Thank you for proving exactly why we can't just leave you here," Dean said. "As for what, Cas is going to erase your memories of everything about this whole affair starting with what led you to that motel room. That way you'll not only leave me alone, but not do anything stupid if you happen to run across Sam in the future."

"You can't do that!"

"Sam's back too?" Roy asked, stunned.

"Yes, I can," Castiel countered, stepping forwards.

 

* * *

 

"Cas?"

"Yes, Dean?"

"What are your wings to you? I mean, are there like special rules or customs about who can see and touch them or something like that?" The way Castiel looked away, back down at the now sleeping hunters made Dean's stomach turn. "Shit. Cas, you gotta tell me these things! I mean, I just don't know them. Promise you'll tell me if something I ask goes against some unspoken angelic custom."

"Like disobedience?"

Dean frowned, stepping closer. "That wasn't disobedience, I think that's been proven clearly enough since. And no, that was what you'd been ordered to do by a superior. What I'm talking about is customs, like what humans have with personal space and privacy. I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"You do not," Castiel stated, looking up and meeting his eyes as he said it and a hand came up to touch his face. "But I shall tell you if you wish."

"I do. What was it about wings earlier? You didn't want to show them, did you?"

"No. An angel's wings are quite personal and we only allow those we trust near enough to touch them and even then only a special few are allowed to actually touch them. The stroking and grooming of one's wings is reserved for those brothers and sisters who are very close."

"Ah, okay. So showing them to humans like you did before is a special privilege."

"Yes."

And damn if that just didn't increase Dean's desire to be able to see his lover's true form.


	52. Chapter 51

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean feels sorry for Lilith as he reads "A Treatise on the Origin of Demons."

PAST

Dean felt sorry for Lilith.

The more he read about what had happened to her, about what Lucifer had done to her, the more he felt sorry for her. Well, for the human that she had once been, not for the demon that she had become. The further into "A Treatise on the Origin of Demons" he got, the more that he started to really think about the difference between the two. Back before Ruby had told him about the fact that demons were human souls who'd had their very humanity tortured and burned right out of them in Hell, he'd just hated them all, pure and simple. They were nothing but evil creatures that thrived on hurting others and deserved to be sent back to Hell- and later when they had the means to do so, killed- for all that they had done.

After he'd learned the truth, he'd been far too preoccupied with the sheer horror that particular revelation had evoked within him to really think about the issue too much. Dean snorted at the understatement of that thought. Horror didn't even begin to describe what he'd felt upon learning that if he didn't find a way out of his deal, that he'd become the very thing he hated so much and had spent most of his life fighting against. He'd wanted to ignore it or deny it, but he hadn't been able to. The knowledge that he wouldn't be strong enough to avoid that fate had tortured him long before he'd ever entered Hell and just look, though Castiel had saved him before he could become a demon, he'd still been right.

He'd _broken_.

The reminder made Dean close his eyes and swallow hard as memories from Hell and of Alistair flashed before his eyes. It had been so long since his last true nightmare about what had happened down there that the reminders were all the more potent. Funny how he hadn't really noticed the passing of the nightmares until now. It wasn't like it had happened overnight, instead it had been a gradual thing until they were just hardly there anymore. Even during his time with Lisa, away from the hunt and the majority of the reminders of what had happened to him, he hadn't been free from those nightmares. He'd woken up both Lisa and Ben on countless occasions when he'd screamed or cried out when in the midst of one and that had greatly added to the tension between them as he'd refused to tell Lisa what was going on and why couldn't sleep properly.

The nightmares and memories of Hell were, of course, the reason why Dean had avoided thinking too much about how demons were created. Now, however, this book was forcing him to do so and the irony of it all was that he'd had to practically fight Raphael for the opportunity of reading it. The archangel had wanted to be the one to study this particular find and he'd been able to tell from the looks in the eyes of Michael and Castiel that both of them wanted to do so as well. All of them wanted to have a look at the book that had somehow vanished from Heaven's library and seemed to be so relevant to the issue at hand. In the end, his lover had sided with him though he'd been able to see the tension in Castiel's eyes. He hadn't understood why right away, but now he realized that his angel was worried about how the contents of the book might affect him.

Dean smiled at the thought, but it quickly left him as he realized that Castiel had been right to worry. Though his lover hadn't known the contents of the book, he was sure that Cas had been able to take a pretty good guess as to at least some of it. Though he didn't want to relive anything of what had happened to him in Hell, he did think that it was a good thing that he was confronting it now in some manner. What was it that Sam always said? He had to deal with this shit, right? Somehow he doubted that this was what his little brother had meant- the angel who had written this book spared no details- but that was just though shit for Sammy. Beggars couldn't be choosers after all.

So, yeah, this book was making him really think about what it meant for demons to have once been human souls. Lucifer had originally chosen Lilith as she intrigued him and he was curious about what would happen if he so completely twisted one of his Father's precious humans so that nothing that made her human remained. Well, the devil had gotten his answer all right and it had pleased him so much that he'd started doing it to others with the help of his new creation. And the rest, as they said, was history.

He snorted at the thought. It was simple to say it like that, Dean knew, as it somehow managed to completely gloss over the countless deaths demons had been responsible for in the millennia since. Not to mention all of the lives that they had touched and ruined in addition to those they'd killed. He was only all too aware of the so-called collateral damage that could result from demon activity, his whole life from the tender age of four had been nothing but that. Where would he be now if Azazel had never visited their home all those decades ago? What would he have chosen to become? A mechanic? Something else? Would his parents still be alive? Would they all be living in Lawrence still? He shook his head to clear it from those types of thoughts. They were pointless, he knew, pointless and dangerous as they had the ability to cause deep wounds that could take precious time to heal. Besides, there was one thing he knew for sure about his life if the yellow-eyed son of a bitch had never been; it wouldn't have had Castiel in it.

That sobering thought was enough to make Dean focus on the book once more. It said that the conversion of a human soul into a demon was inevitable if the demon had the soul where it couldn't get away. It said that no matter how strong the soul was or might once have been, it couldn't stand up the demon forever. It said that souls simply hadn't been created for that and thus didn't make it. This made his jaw and hands clench even as most of his being cried out to deny this. That couldn't be true, it just couldn't and had to be right. Nothing was ever that certain, surely all someone had to do was be strong enough, to not give in, in order to remain human. He tried to resist the flashes of exactly all the types of things demons- and himself!- did to those unlucky enough to end up on their rack, but couldn't. For the first time ever he began to doubt. He'd always felt that if he'd just been stronger, better, that he'd have been able to keep himself from breaking and giving in to Alistair. Now, though, he wasn't so sure.

"A Treatise on the Origin of Demons" spoke about the different lengths of time it had taken various souls to be broken and though they varied widely, they all had. It didn't mention a single soul that had successfully been able to hold on and save itself from this monstrous fate. Dean wanted to convince himself that it was due to the fact that the author was biased, but it was written in Enochian, so surely the angel that had written it would have delighted in recounting the triumph of one of his Father's children being able to resist demonic corruption. All that he could see was that some held out for longer, for impressive amounts of time according to the author, though he didn't think twenty years was particularly great.

Interestingly enough, all of Lucifer's early corruptions had taken surprisingly little time. Dean's first thought was that Lilith and her ilk simply hadn't been all that tough, but the author seemed to think that it was due to their near absolute lack of experience with darkness and evil. That their sheltered and privileged life made them all the more vulnerable to the devil's manipulations. If that were indeed the case, then he couldn't help but find it amusing that the more demons that were created, the harder it made it for them to create more. As they spread destruction and death through the world, people became more jaded and inured to evil and thus harder to demonize themselves as it wasn't such a shock to them that such depravity could exist.

"Dean."

The sudden uttering of his name started Dean and he jumped in his seat even as his initial tension faded away as the voice registered. "Shit, Cas, you scared the crap out of me!"

"My apologies, that was not my intention."

"Yeah, I know, s'okay."

If Dean had hoped that would placate his lover, he was wrong. Castiel still stood next to him, a box in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other, head tilted slightly with a displeased frown on his face.

"What?"

"You are greatly disturbed."

"Yeah," Dean admitted because what else could he do?

The material was getting to him and he knew that it was useless to try and deny it, his lover simply knew him too well. Besides, Dean found that he didn't want to snow Castiel even if he could. He sighed contentedly when his angel put down what he was carrying and moved his hands to his shoulders instead, talented fingers knowing exactly what to do to get at least some of the tension to drain from his muscles.

"Ugh," Dean muttered as he let his head fall forwards. "That's good."

"You should take a break."

"Already did."

"Then perhaps take a different book for a while," Castiel suggested ten minutes later as he stopped the massage he was giving.

"No," Dean stated, a hand coming up to keep the book where it was when his lover moved to take it away. "I gotta do this, Cas."

His angel didn't look pleased but after a moment of staring at him, Castiel pulled the room's other chair closer and sat down, opening another book. Relieved, Dean relaxed a bit and returned to his reading, smiling when his lover's hand settled on his thigh a moment later, squeezing once before just becoming a comforting warmth as they focused on their research.

 

* * *

 

A few hours later, Dean had just finished the fruit cup he'd found in the box when he'd finally opened it- it had made him smile even if he still didn't have much of an appetite and found it easy to ignore the doughnuts- when he stopped, frowned and re-read the sentence.

_Although there is no equivalent to the Rite of Contressa for demons, there nonetheless exist several means to forcibly expel a demon from a human meatsuit. The first is an exorcism-_

Despite the fact that the rest of the paragraph really interested Dean as it mentioned more than one way to cast out a demon that he hadn't ever heard of before, his eyes kept getting drawn back to that first line.

_Although there is no equivalent to the Rite of Contressa for demons, there nonetheless exist several means to forcibly expel a demon from a human meatsuit._

To him that clearly implied that this Rite of Contressa could do more than merely expel a demon from a human.

_Although there is no equivalent to the Rite of Contressa for demons_

It took Dean another moment to realize what it was about that first part of the sentence that had subconsciously drawn his eyes.

_for demons_

As opposed to what? Angels was the only logical answer that Dean could come up with to that question. The author was clearly an angel, so it made sense that he or she was talking about angels in phrasing the sentence like that. So what did that mean? A part of him wanted to get excited because, surely, the way that the sentence was phrased implied that this Rite of Contressa was something that was more effective then exorcising a demon if it could be used on demons. The rest of him, though, was far more cautious, not wanting to believe that something like what was being implied was possible. And yet... surely it had to mean that-

"Cas, what is the Rite of Contressa?"

"Excuse me?"

"The Rite of Contressa."

It wasn't until he said it the second time that Dean realized that he was saying it in Enochian instead of English, not quite sure what Contressa translated into as it didn't seem to be a word, more like a name or something. Not that it really mattered.

"I have never heard of it."

Dean frowned. "Really? Well, look at this and see if you get the same thing out of it that I do."

Never one who was able to sit still well, Dean found himself fidgeting as Castiel read the paragraph and then seemed to start reading the whole page. To distract himself, he grabbed one of the doughnuts and bit into it. It was clearly a Krispy Kreme and one of his favorites and he suddenly found that his appetite had returned with a vengeance and he quickly finished it off, grimacing slightly as he took a sip of the coffee only to find it stone cold. Oh well, it was his own fault really.

"Dean," Castiel finally said looking up at him, cautious excitement in his eyes. "Dean, if this is what it implies..."

"You've really never heard of this rite before?"

"No."

"If it's supposed to be able to something that's worse then forcing a demon out of a meatsuit to angels, then how is that possible?"

"I do not know, but it may be that the Rite of Contressa is difficult to perform."

"Hey, I'll take difficult, I'll even take extremely difficult, if it means that it's something to use against Lucifer," Dean stated.

"Mmm," Castiel replied, reaching out and touching the cup Dean still held.

Dean blinked as he felt the sudden heat and realized his lover had mojoed his coffee. "You spoil me."

Those ethereal blue eyes were suddenly focused on his and Dean felt captured and laid bare before them. "Not nearly as much as you deserve."

Before Dean could protest, there was a rustle of wings and Michael and Raphael were in the room.

"Have either of you heard of the Rite of Contressa before?" Castiel questioned.

"No," Michael replied.

"The Rite of Contressa?" Raphael repeated thoughtfully. "Yes, I think I recall Jophiel and Simiel speaking about it once. They were discussing the need for its existence as neither of them could think of a situation that would call for its use."

"But do you know what it actually does?" Dean asked, hardly daring to breathe.

"No."

"Damnit!"

"Why is this rite important?" Michael questioned.

"Here, see for yourself," Castiel said.


	53. Chapter 52

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The archangels follow up on their new lead while Dean deals with an unexpected gift from Roy.

PAST

From the moment that they had first entered Heaven, Michael had felt something inside of himself relax and begin to heal that had been broken since Sam Winchester had pulled him into his brother's cage along with himself and Lucifer. Even now he couldn't help but shudder at the horror of being locked away so far from his home, the Host's light and his connection with his brothers and sisters. It had been the single worst experience of his life and he couldn't fathom how his brother had endured millennia of such punishment and still come out so determined to go against their Father. He'd only spent a short time there but he'd been more than ready to repent and discover exactly what it was that he had done wrong to warrant such a punishment.

It did feel odd to be back home and not go right for the Main Hall, but Michael could hardly fault his brother for seeking to steer himself and Raphael right for the library. Castiel had been in charge for such a short period as to still be considered a newcomer despite all of the hard work he had put in. He could easily see what a good job his little brother had done with a very difficult situation and he had no desire to either make things harder for him or to usurp his position.

Michael knew that he could be many things and stubborn among them, but he knew he had made mistakes and was more than willing to repent for them for as long as his Father saw fit and however He deemed it necessary. Already he had learned much about his Father's favored creations that he had never known and he didn't regret coming to know his vessel better even if Dean could still try his patience at times. He couldn't help but smile at the human's persistence and sheer stubbornness. Now that he was looking at it more objectively, he knew it was incredibly impressive how resilient and steadfast his vessel was, anyone else would have buckled under the pressure a long time ago.

And his soul! By his Father's Grace, but his vessel's soul was something to behold. Never in all Creation had Michael ever seen a human soul to match its sheer brilliance and vitality. He could only imagine what it would feel like cradled safely within his own Grace and a surge of what he'd learned was jealously shot through him at the thought that Castiel knew exactly what that felt like from when he'd saved Dean from the Pit while he himself might never get to experience it despite the fact that Dean was his vessel.

The moment Michael realized what direction his thoughts had taken, he clamped down on them. Not only was jealousy a sin, but he now knew better than to think of his Father's Righteous Man like that. Dean was his own person and so much more than a mere vessel. He should have understood that the first time he had laid eyes on him. No soul like that was ever meant to lie dormant underneath the Grace of an angel. Yes, his Father had often chosen to grant his first children vessels that shared many characteristics with them, to make a better fit Gabriel had always believed, but Dean was even fierier than even he knew what to do with. It was a fact that had taken him a long time to face and admit, even to himself.

"Michael, Castiel, I have found it," Raphael called out.

Finally! Michael had just begun to wonder if this information too would have been made to vanish from the library. It still stung to think that the books necessary to have prevented his and Raphael's foolishness might have been deliberately removed and he wished desperately to know who had done it and why. Dean's suggestion that his Father might have had a hand in it pained him still, but if it happened to be true then He must have had a reason for doing so and he would uncover whatever it was.

Michael pushed all of those thoughts aside as he made his way towards Raphael. It had been several Earth days since they had come to the library and he knew his vessel would be wondering what was keeping them. So far Dean had managed to not call out to him- of that he was sure as he'd been keeping a certain amount of attention on the latent bond they shared just in case- but he knew it was only a matter of time before the human's patience was tried and his curiosity peaked.

"And?" Michael inquired as he got closer to his brother. "What does the Rite of Contressa do?"

"Exactly what we suspected and hoped it might," Raphael replied. "It prevents an angel from taking a vessel."

"What is it?" Castiel questioned and Michael understood his little brother's dread when he finally caught sight of Raphael and saw his drawn expression. "Is there not sufficient information to carry out the Rite?"

"No, this book contains all that we need to know to perform the Rite of Contressa," Raphael said. "It lists every ingredient, where to find them, how they need to be prepared and other necessary details including the incantation that need to be said."

"Then what is the problem?" Michael demanded.

Raphael looked him in the eye before passing across the book he'd found. It was old, even by Heaven's standards and Michael handled it with care, changing the angle he held it at so Castiel could see as well. The handwriting was old and faded, a fluid cursive that he instantly recognized as Jophiel's hand and he felt the familiar echo of pain and betrayal as he thought of her death. She had been a brave and loyal sister, resolutely standing up to Lucifer though she knew she couldn't win simply to protect the lesser angels for as long as she could. He'd arrived just in time to bear witness her death at Lucifer's hand. It had provided him with all of the rage necessary to fight and strike down his brother.

It had been his first time experiencing anger and later Michael had mourned not only his fallen and slain brothers and sisters, but the loss of his innocence as well.

_A fruit from the Garden of Eden, tears of an innocent, a blessing by a pure soul, salt from the Red Sea, a willing blood donation from a repentant sinner, a blossom from the Hidden Valley collected on the full moon, a feather from an angel touched by God..._

The list of ingredients for the libation that would need to be poured over the angel who was to be restrained was long and varied but, thankfully, not unmanageable. They also had ample opportunity to cover Lucifer's true essence with it what his still being trapped in the cage. No, that wasn't what was going to be the problem, Michael knew. At first he hadn't seen what would be, until he had caught sight of the last line describing the Rite of Contressa.

_And all this will fail still, if it is not performed by Justice tempered by Righteousness._

"No!" Castiel whispered in disbelief and shock.

"Castiel-" Raphael began.

"No, I will not allow it!"

"Brother, we have no choice, we mus-"

The next instant Castiel had Raphael pinned against one of the heavy bookshelves and Michael rushed forwards afraid the newest archangel might do something rash. It was easy to tell how strongly he felt about this issue and he already knew exactly what Castiel was prepared to do for his vessel. He had to end this confrontation before it got any worse.

"Castiel, calm down, Brother," Michael soothed. "Raphael, that is enough."

"But this is the solution we have been looking for!" Raphael protested. "To ignore it now just because-"

"I said enough, Raphael. Castiel, let him go."

"He suggested that-" Castiel began.

"I know, but I promise you, Brother, I would never force Dean even if I could."

 

* * *

  

As soon as they were done returning the books they had used, Castiel took off towards his mate figuring that his brothers would either follow him or not. Apparently they chose to follow as they appeared beside him upon landing. His remaining anger and dread faded to confusion as he found the room dark and quiet with the curtains drawn despite the fact that it was early afternoon. The air was stuffy as if not refreshed for a few days and tinged with a sour, sharp and distasteful odor. He stopped breathing, but still felt almost dirty. What was going on here? If he didn't possess the ability to sense his mate, he'd have thought that Dean had moved on to another hunt somewhere else, but he could still feel him even if he couldn't immediately see him.

"Dean?" Castiel called out.

In response there was a muffled groan and suddenly the large heap on the bed that he'd assumed was merely a pile of discarded blankets and sheets shifted. He'd just noticed that one of the pillows also seemed to be missing when suddenly Dean's head appeared from the makeshift nest and Castiel's breath caught in his throat. His mate looked awful! His skin was pale and gaunt, making the light dusting of freckles on his face stand out sharply. His eyes were bruised and his nose red and sore. He barely had time to register all of this before his mate's face turned greenish and Dean lurched to the side of the bed. He made a grab for something and then the hunter was vomiting.

"Dean!"

With a thought, Castiel was at his mate's side and he grabbed the trash can Dean was throwing up into with one hand and helped support his human with the other as he sat on the bed. When he was done being sick, his mate collapsed against him, humming his approval as he ran a soothing hand through his hair. He reached out with his Grace, not liking what he was seeing nor the heat that radiated from Dean's skin. What he found was a body wide virus infection that was not only making the hunter physically ill, but causing him both pain and fatigue as his body's natural defenses struggled desperately to fight it off.

"What happened to him?" Raphael asked in surprise.

"Flu," Dean replied hoarsely, voice rough with lack of sleep and painful coughing fits. "Present from Roy, no doubt. The little bastard."

"Flu?"

"Illness," Castiel explained, healing it.

Dean's body instantly sagged in his hold, relaxing and his mate sighed at the sudden release. That the hunter stayed in his arms despite the fact that his brothers were present told him all he needed to know about how bad it had been.

"Thanks, Cas," Dean said, voice still rough.

Although Castiel could heal his mate's body from the virus itself, Dean would still be weak from the lack of nutrition he'd had since he started getting ill. He'd seen Sam sick before and knew that what little Dean had probably ingested would almost certainly have come back up when he'd been ill. The thought reminded him of the trash can and he banished the contents at the same time he felt Michael clear the air. He sent his brother a smile in thanks as he felt his mate start to drift off into a deep sleep now that his body was healed. It was a sign of the trust in him that Dean had as he knew his mate didn't fully trust Raphael just yet.

The reminder of his other brother had Castiel looking at him only to find a vaguely disgusted look on Raphael's face and the archangel looked like he might make a derogatory comment.

 _"Raphael, do not!"_ Castiel ordered.

He was also careful not to tense and possibly waken Dean. His mate clearly needed sleep and he was determined to let him get it. Besides, the situation between Raphael and Dean was still precarious enough for him to want to avoid adding any other issues to it.

_"Brother?"_

_"Making any kind of critical comment about something so inherently human will only erase all of the progress you have made with Dean."_

_"What progress?"_

_"He is falling asleep in your presence,"_ Michael pointed out. _"Even with Castiel present, that is an indication that he has started to accept you."_

Raphael seemed to consider this, observing Dean closely and Castiel could only hope that it was a good sign. Raphael was a brother that he had yet to start truly understanding. He was almost entirely sure that he was on their side, but beyond that he never seemed to be able to predict what his brother would do or say. Raphael and Dean were also almost constantly at odds with each other, though he was aware that his hunter was responsible for his fair share of the trouble between them. He knew well how stubborn and counterproductive Dean could be when he wanted to, but Raphael was by no means innocent and seemed to have a harder time then Michael getting over his aversion for humans. The latter was something he couldn't understand, human beings had always fascinated him even before he'd met Dean and all of the wonders his soul held.

 _"But he was so... so..."_ Raphael began.

 _"Human?"_ Castiel offered. _"Illness is part of the human condition and to suffer like Dean was doing is how Father made them."_

That seemed to have an impact and Castiel wondered if perhaps his brother had never looked at it that way. That everything Raphael disliked or found distasteful about humans was something their Father had specifically created them to be. It seemed almost impossible, but Dean was steadily starting to disabuse him of the very notion that anything was impossible. If someone so pure and just could deem himself worthless, then why shouldn't an archangel not have considered that human weaknesses had been part of their Father's intentions?

Castiel was so far from the path he'd expected to tread only a few short years ago as to be mind-boggling. At times he was amazed that anything could still surprise him. Yet it inevitably still did as today had amply proven. He frowned as his thoughts were drawn back to what they had found in Heaven.

_And all this will fail still, if it is not performed by Justice tempered by Righteousness._

There was not a single doubt in Castiel's mind as to exactly what that signified and he didn't like the implications in the least. It made him want to do nothing more then take his mate and whisk him away to somewhere safe where no one could even think to make Dean do anything he didn't want to.


	54. Chapter 53

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And all this will fail still, if it is not performed by Justice tempered by Righteousness.

  
**PAST**  
  
  
It was the hunger that woke Dean despite how tired he still felt. He could easily have slept another hour or two, but the grumbling of his stomach made him realize that he just wasn't going to get it until he ate something. With a muttered protest, he turned his face away from a surprisingly fresh smelling pillow and opened his eyes. Castiel had clearly been using his mojo again as he distinctly recalled his bed smelling more than a little ripe.  
  
The thought of his lover made Dean realize what had been bothering him. He was alone in bed and he knew that he'd fallen asleep against Castiel. Hell, he could even vaguely recall Raphael and Michael being in the room. The thing was, he wasn't used to waking up alone if his angel was there when he fell asleep. And just how much of a girl did that make him that he didn't like it even if it made sense? Castiel didn't need to sleep and thus had far better things to do with his time, so it had always kinda surprised him that his lover did stick around as he couldn't know that humans liked to have their lovers there when they woke up. For he had definitely never mentioned it to Cas, not wanting to assume and figuring his angel had better things to do with his time then to lie around watching him sleep or dream walking with him.  
  
The latter brought a dirty smile to Dean's lips, especially with the memory of last night's dream. His lover had been particularly demanding and possessive and, though he didn't know why, he'd definitely enjoyed the benefits of whatever had put him in that mood. The lack of burn in certain key places as he stretched was almost disappointing as he loved the little reminders of an awesome fuck all throughout the day. Oh well, he'd just have to entice his lover back into bed later on. Or into the backseat of the Impala, or up against a convenient and secluded wall, he really wasn't too picky about the location as long as it was him and Cas and semi-private.  
  
A little flash of insecurity pulled Dean from his fantasy and he immediately tried to shove it aside. The fact that Castiel wasn't here- that he hadn't stuck around- didn't mean anything. His angel had probably just been called away by Xarael to take care of something in Heaven. Or perhaps Michael or even Raphael had required his attention for something that they were working on and it had been urgent so his lover had left right away rather than waking him and explaining where he was going. Or, perhaps, Lucifer had managed to rattle his cage harder than normal and Castiel had gone to investigate.  
  
Yeah, those were all very likely possibilities, Dean knew. Far more likely than the alternative. His angel just wouldn't up and leave him like this, not after everything that had happened between them and all that Castiel had promised him. He could still hear those three precious little words being whispered into his ear on more than one occasion. No one had ever said those words to him before, not like that they hadn't and he knew that meant something, he  _knew_  it, dammit! So why couldn't he just relax?  
  
Sam. Bobby.  
  
_Sam._  
  
Dean squeezed his eyes shut at the pain that thinking of their betrayals still caused him even now, months after he'd first learned of them. It was a pain that he didn't think would ever go away, at least not fully. Not after how much he'd trusted them and what they'd done. Betrayal  _and_  abandonment, as if one of those two wasn't enough, they'd had to go and do both of them to him. At the same time. God, if it hadn't been for Castiel... he didn't even want to think about where he'd have ended up as he knew it was no place good. He'd already been on the fast track there until his lover's impromptu intervention.  
  
He grasped at the memory, clutching it close to him as proof of his angel's devotion. Dean nearly laughed, only he would use that particular memory instead of some of the others they'd made together. But what could he say? He wouldn't go so far as to say that words were cheap- the sheer impact of Castiel's love declarations far too great to say that- but he had always thought that actions spoke far louder than words. Besides, no one else had ever done that for him; no one else had confronted him about his drinking habits and made an issue out of them because of what it did to  _him_  rather than his ability to hunt or interact with them.  
  
No one else had cared enough to do that.  
  
Slowly but surely, Dean managed to calm himself down and push aside the edge of panic that had risen within him. He wasn't going to let his feelings get the best of him now. Not when he  _knew_  that Castiel wouldn't do that to him, no matter what his instincts were trying to convince him of.  
  
By the time he heard the flutter of wings, Dean felt that he'd managed to compose himself enough that there wouldn't be any outward signs of his panic attack. "Hey, Cas," he said, suddenly realizing that he was still in bed.  
  
"You are awake."  
  
Dean caught sight of the bowl that looked to be filled with oatmeal and fruit just before the smell hit his nose and his stomach growled loudly in approval. "That would be a yes, Captain Obvious."  
  
"What's wrong?" Castiel inquired, head tilting as he observed him.  
  
A wave of guilt shot through Dean and he realized he hadn't done as good of a job at hiding things as he'd thought and he tried once more to bury it all, feeling doubly guilty as he realized that his angel had only left to get him something to eat. "'s nothing."  
  
Even his renewed efforts were obviously unsuccessful as his lover's face softened in understanding. "Dean, I am sorry, it was not my intenti-"  
  
"No! No, Cas, don't you dare apologize, not for this. You have  _nothing_  to be sorry for. You were out getting me breakfast for G-, you were out getting me breakfast. I'm the one who should apologize. You've been nothing but fantastic to me and what do I do? I throw it all back in your face while you're off doing something nice for me."  
  
"Dean."  
  
"No, let me say this. I'm sorry, Cas, and trust me, I know you're not just going to up and leave me, I  _know_  that, really, I do. I just... I don't know, it's just that..."  
  
"Dean," Castiel repeated and suddenly his lover was right there, a hand cradling his face. "Your whole life the people you have trusted and who should have been there for you have abandoned or betrayed you and sometimes both. It has not always been their fault, but for the most part it has and I want you to know that I do not blame you for not being able to simply let go of all of that history. Not when it is not something that you can just control at will and not when it has played such an integral part in shaping you into who you are today. Though I would have spared you the hurt and heartache in an instant if I could, I would do nothing to change who you are."  
  
Dean's throat had gone bone dry and he had to swallow several times before he could even think to speak and even then he couldn't manage more than a raw "Cas," his eyes locked with those of his lover.  
  
"I know you said I should not apologize, but I should have thought to leave you with some token of my intention to return even if I had hoped to do so before you awoke. Next time, I promise that I will do so."  
  
In response, Dean just pulled Castiel close and buried his face in the angel's neck, clutching him tightly. He wasn't sure how long they sat like that, awkwardly perched on the site of the bed, but it lasted until his stomach complained loudly and his lover laughed.  
  
"Hungry?"  
  
"Yeah, yeah," Dean replied though he eagerly took the offered bowl of oatmeal that was somehow still steaming. "Thanks."  
  
As he'd thought, the oatmeal was full of berries, but Dean found that he really couldn't complain as the taste of fresh blueberry burst across his tongue, the tartness a nice complement to the rest. If he was honest with himself, he found that he was starting to like the fresh fruit that Castiel always seemed to be able to get his hands on. All too soon, the bowl was empty but even as he was scraping the last of it away, a plate with a meat-filled omelette appeared at his side and he turned to look at his angel.  
  
"Your stomach was quite adamant in its demands even before you woke," Castiel said indulgently.  
  
Dean felt himself flush a little, but dug right into the omelette, tasting both bacon and sausage in it. It was as he was chewing that it occurred to him that this was the first time he'd had breakfast in bed with his lover. Sure, he'd had lunch and dinner while sprawled across the covers before, often while they were watching a movie or Dr. Sexy on TV, but never breakfast. If his angel was providing the meal, he'd often go and get it while he took a shower. The thought made him glance sideways at Castiel only to find his lover watching him intently in that way of his. It was amazing, if he really stopped to think about it, how that no longer bothered him and how he'd now miss it if it weren't there. Somewhere along the line, being the center of Cas' attention had become something he'd craved, even in a completely non-sexual way, instead of it being the source of discomfort it had once been.  
  
When he was done, Dean put aside his plate and cutlery and leaned across to kiss Castiel. "Thanks." Instead of replying, his angel smiled at him, but Dean frowned at the hints of stress he could detect along its edges. "What is it? What's wrong?"  
  
Castiel gave a strange half sigh, looking away briefly before his face tightened. "We found a book containing more information on the Rite of Contressa."  
  
"Well at least your mission was a success," Dean said as he got out of bed and pulled on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. "I'm guessing from your expression that it's not good news."  
  
"No."  
  
"Well, how bad is it? Do we not have enough information to carry it out? Or is it not what we thought."  
  
"No, it is what we were hoping it might be and we have all of the information necessary to successfully carry it out."  
  
"So what's the problem then?" The anger that Dean could now detect on his angel's face made him nervous,  _very_  nervous. "Cas?"  
  
"It is... It is one of the conditions that must be met."  
  
"Met?"  
  
"For the Rite to work."  
  
"Are you really going to make me pull each word outta you?"  
  
Dean regretted the words as soon as he saw Castiel's jaw clench but before he could apologize, his lover was walking towards the room's crappy little table. On it lay a book that he didn't think he'd seen before, though he had handled so many over the course of the past few months that they were starting to all blur together a bit. Joining his angel, he watched as Cas opened the book and turned to a particular section before stepping back.  
  
With a concerned glance at Castiel, Dean pulled the book towards him and began to read. The list of ingredients made his eyebrows rise and he wondered how the hell one collected things like a blessing by a pure soul or the prayer of a child, not to mention the fact that he'd always thought the Garden of Eden nothing but a myth, even after learning about the existence of angels and God. It was Castiel who'd said that the Bible got more wrong than right after all. Other than that, though, he couldn't see anything that could either cause a problem or be the reason for his lover's anger and distress.  
  
The flutter of wings interrupted Dean before could question his angel and he turned to find both Raphael and Michael in the room with them. Both of the archangels glanced from Castiel, to him and then to the book, before looking back up at him.  
  
"Well?" Raphael finally demanded.  
  
"I have already told you, the answer is no," Castiel declared fiercely, moving to stand close beside him and Dean blinked at the sudden aggressiveness in his lover's tone and posture.  
  
"Okay, what am I missing here?" Dean demanded.  
  
Michael turned to look at him, his aunt's dark eyes assessing him carefully. "You do not realize what it says."  
  
"Well, I thought I did, Mike, but obviously I'm missing something important so why doesn't one of you spell it out for me? Pretend like I'm five."  
  
The warring emotions that he could see on Castiel's face were starting to make Dean  _really_  nervous and he wasn't even sure that he wanted to know the answer anymore. His angel hardly ever showed this much emotion on his face except at the height of passion and it was disconcerting to see it now, in these circumstances.  
  
"Some of the higher angels, and all of the archangels, are known by an attribute for which they stand as well as their name," Castiel explained. "This attribute is sometimes used instead of their name to refer to them in writings."  
  
"Okay," Dean replied slowly, trying to wrap his head around it. It was weird, but okay, they were angels, some things had to different. "Attributes, gotcha. Like what?"  
  
"Well, Jophiel was Faith; Gabriel, Truth; Simiel, Devotion and Raziel, Wisdom."  
  
"Simiel was Devotion? So much for that."  
  
"Devotion to a cause and brother is still devotion," Michael stated softly but full of conviction. "She merely chose the wrong cause and brother to follow."  
  
For some reason those words made Dean swallow as he couldn't help but think of Sam and the way he had thrown himself into the hunt for Lilith. His brother had become so obsessed with it that he'd lost track of the original reason he'd started hunting her in the first place and Sam had all but ignored his resurrection on some levels, still gunning for her as hard as ever despite the fact that he'd gotten out of Hell.  
  
"Okay," Dean said, turning back to his lover. "So what are these two jokers?"  
  
Raphael's lips twitched and the archangel sneered at him, but Dean got the distinct impression that while Raphael knew he'd been insulted, he didn't quite know how. The thought amused him more then it should, but he couldn't spare more than a second on it as the air was charged and he knew that whatever was coming was bad. He didn't even need to see both Castiel and Raphael all tensed up for a fight to know that.  
  
"Raphael is Loyalty," Castiel began.  
  
"And Michael?" Dean prompted, frowning.  
  
"Michael is Justice."  
  
"Justice?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
It took a second for the penny to drop- he'd never claimed to be the brightest crayon in the box- as Dean had expected the revelation to be a bit more, well, revelatory. Or, well, obvious. Not something that he had to think about, connecting the dots.   
  
"Wait, Justice, as in  _performed by Justice_ , Justice?"  
  
Michael blinked, obviously trying to sort that out, before he replied. "Yes, exactly."  
  
"Okay, so you need to be the one to-"  
  
_performed by Justice tempered by Righteousness_  
  
Full understanding hit Dean with the force of a semi and he felt the blood drain from his face so fast he wobbled enough to make Castiel reach out to steady him.  
  
_performed by Justice_ tempered by _Righteousness_  
  
Oh, he had to be misinterpreting that. He just  _had_  to be. But Righteousness was  _far_  too close to the Righteous Man crap the angels were going on about all the time.  
  
"When it says  _tempered by_  what, exactly, does it mean?"  
  
Raphael snorted. "Do not play stupid now."  
  
"Fuck you!" Dean snapped, anger exploding within him in a desperate attempt to bury his fear and the sudden pit that had opened at the bottom of his stomach. "You no good piece of shit!"  
  
"How dare you insult me like that?" Raphael thundered. "You should be honored to be Michael's vessel, his one true vessel, unique among every human that has ever lived."  
  
Oh shit, he was right. "Cas?"  
  
"It means that I am the only one who can perform the Rite," Michael replied instead. "And I can only do so while inside of you."


	55. Chapter 54

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raphael argues his points for why Dean should say yes.

**PAST**  
  
  
"Way to make that sound dirty," Dean said and Michael frowned, unsure of what his vessel meant.  
  
All that he had done was to make it clear exactly what the book said, just as Dean had requested. Michael had noticed the human penchant for denying truths they either didn't like or didn't want to acknowledge and thus could understand why his vessel would want to be completely sure that he was understanding them correctly. What he failed to understand himself, though, was how that made what he'd said 'dirty.'  
  
Humans were such odd creatures at times and he had yet to learn how their minds worked. It was frustrating that he could see their very souls and yet fail to understand them on such a fundamental level.  
  
He hadn't failed to notice his vessel's reaction to the truth and it hurt Michael inexplicably to know that Dean felt that strongly against saying yes. He'd always thought it was more about what would happen should Dean have given in before, about all of the humans that would have died, then about genuinely feeling this adversely about becoming a vessel. Well, once Dean knew that he wouldn't be turned into a drooling mess as a result of saying yes anyway. Perhaps this was another part of his punishment for all that he had said and done before? He felt distinctly uncomfortable as he recalled telling his vessel he was small and unimportant during their first meeting. His Father had taught him otherwise since then, not that He should have had to, not with a soul like the one Dean had. He should have been able to see it for himself right away.  
  
"I think you should leave," Castiel stated.  
  
"No," Raphael replied before Michael could answer.  
  
His vessel's eyes narrowed at his brother and Michael wished Raphael wouldn't seek to antagonize Dean so often. Though, to be fair, he didn't think that was his brother's goal just now. He could well understand Raphael's frustration at having an opportunity like this dismissed outright without any real consideration, but he had learned not to try and force his way on his vessel and Castiel. He, at least, did not make the same mistakes twice, no matter how much it might seem like circumstances dictated that it was the right course of action.  
  
"You cannot seriously be thinking of just outright dismissing the Rite of Contressa?" Raphael demanded.  
  
"I think Father has made it clear that He does not wish for Dean to become a vessel," Castiel retorted.  
  
"He has done no such thing. He has merely proven that He does not wish to see the Apocalypse ended in such a manner that would destroy Earth and all of His human children."  
  
Castiel's Grace flickered with anger, but it was still restrained enough that Michael felt no alarm. His little brother had never been one to strike out recklessly when not necessary and though he might feel that his mate was being threatened, it was not an immediate enough threat yet to push him towards the desperate actions that had so stunned the Host, himself included. He didn't think he'd ever forget his shock at hearing that  _Castiel_ , of all angels, had defied Heaven.  
  
Besides, Michael had come to realize that Castiel was not one prone to self-delusion and thus his brother would realize the truth in Raphael's words much as he might wish it weren't so. He himself was also struggling with it. If he ignored all else, what Raphael said was true, their Father hadn't specifically indicated that he didn't wish his Righteous Man to become a vessel as his bloodline dictated even if he felt that it was strongly implied. Dean's soul was far too bright for that of a mere vessel and Father had come down on Dean and Castiel's side when they'd resisted Heaven and his and Raphael's plans.  
  
It was just all so confusing! Michael wished for a simple answer, something to indicate what his Father wished him to do. He was used to obeying clear orders that told him precisely what was required of him. This uncertainty was something new that he didn't like in the slightest as it made it so unclear what his Father wanted. He also felt that the signals were mixed. Some told him in no uncertain means that his vessel was meant for more than merely housing him to face Lucifer. Yet others, like the Rite of Contressa, told him that he was supposed to claim his intended vessel. Why else would this Rite have been created if he wasn't meant to use it while Dean was his vessel?  
  
"Why are you so determined for me to give in?" Dean demanded.  
  
"The Apocalypse has begun," Raphael replied. "With every day that passes, Lucifer's cage grows weaker and it is only a matter of time until he is free once more."  
  
"Yeah, and who's fault is that?"  
  
"Raphael," Michael warned as he sensed his brother's growing anger.  
  
Raphael's gaze turned to him. "Do not pretend that you do not feel annoyed as well, Brother."  
  
"Without Dean's permission, there is nothing we can do."  
  
"So what will it take?" Raphael demanded, turning back to Dean and Castiel. "How many chances must you have before you finally act?"  
  
"Excuse me?" Dean thundered and Michael wondered if either of them would ever be able to remain calm around the other after today.  
  
"How long have you spent looking for a way to end this war without Michael killing Lucifer?"  
  
Dean's face and soul twisted in anger, but he remained silent and Michael wished that he could say something to soothe him but could come up with nothing.  
  
"How many resources remain unplundered in our attempts to find an alternative solution?" Raphael continued to push.  
  
"There has to be another way," Dean finally replied, though his voice wasn't nearly as confident as it could be.  
  
"Yes, there was, locking Lucifer back in his cage, but your brother ruined it."  
  
"Hey, how were we to know that it couldn't hold more than one of you guys?"  
  
"And now there is this," Raphael continued on, ignoring the question. "How many options do you think that there will be? This is the Apocalypse, you should be pleased that an alternative even exists. There is nothing to say that another one may present itself at all, much less in the time it will take Lucifer to break free."  
  
"Then why bother with the Rite at all?" Dean questioned. "If you're not even sure we can finish this without destroying everything?"  
  
"Because it will give us more time!"  
  
When it became clear that his brother would push further, Michael stepped forward and raised a hand, stalling Raphael though he was clearly unhappy about it. That was too bad for him, but he felt that his brother had already presented his argument well and worried that it would all be lost if Raphael said something to enrage Dean. Then he turned towards his vessel and moved closer to assure him that he wouldn't force him.  
  
Dean, however, flinched back a step as he approached and Michael stopped, frowning. "Dean," he rebuked.  
  
His tactic had the desired result and made his vessel's chin came up defiantly and a determined glare was sent his way. That was more like it. Michael found that he greatly disliked seeing Dean afraid of him, much as it would have pleased him before. He'd become strangely attached to the human during the time they'd spent together. Some of it he knew was due to the fact that vessels, and particularly archangel vessels, had a certain affinity with the angel for whom they were intended. It was something that he had never understood the need for before but which was starting to make more and more sense the longer he spent with Castiel and Dean. The rest of it, though, was a mystery to him and he could only attribute it to his growing admiration and respect for the hunter.  
  
"Mikey."  
  
Michael's eyes flashed. "Do not take your anger out on me, Dean Winchester, I have done nothing to deserve it."  
  
Dean seemed to consider that for a moment, his jaw clenching before he nodded reluctantly. "Yeah, alright."  
  
"You are getting better at reading him," Castiel observed.  
  
"He called me Mikey," Michael replied. "If he is not angry or baiting me, then it is either Michael or Mike."  
  
The response made his vessel blink in surprise before a reluctant smile tugged at the corners of Dean's mouth. The confirmation of his observation made Michael feel pleased with himself. It had taken him a long time to determine why the moniker Mike hadn't bothered him nearly as much as Mikey and why, at times, it had almost pleased him to hear his vessel say it. He still failed to understand the human- or was it just Dean's?- need for monikers, but it was clearly something he would just have to accept. He'd paid close attention to the way his vessel used it with Castiel and the obvious affection he managed to infuse into the single syllable 'Cas.' That had made him notice the difference in the way Dean said 'Mike' and 'Mikey.'  
  
Humans were such odd creatures.  
  
"I understand that you have never considered saying yes," Michael began but paused as Castiel seemed to flinch and his vessel looked guilty as he caught the action. "What?"  
  
Dean's lips twisted into a grimace and various emotions Michael couldn't identify flashed in his eyes and weighed down his words. "I did, consider it that is."  
  
"You did?" Raphael demanded, startled.  
  
"Yeah," Dean admitted, eyes flickering between the two of them before they settled on Michael. "After I was able to kill the Whore of Babylon, I thought... Well, I figured more people were dying then we were able to save and... it just seemed so pointless."  
  
"He'd lost faith in himself," Castiel stated bluntly.  
  
This time Dean flinched as if struck and now Michael recognized pain in his eyes, but he continued on regardless. "Yeah, anyway, I seriously considered it and then decided to do it."  
  
"So why did you not?" Michael asked, marvelling at this revelation.  
  
It was something that he was stunned to learn about. After a while, Michael had come to believe that his vessel was completely adamant in his refusal and had thought that there was no way to persuade him. It was why he had agreed to Zachariah's plan to raise and use Adam Milligan instead.  
  
"Oh, I tried," Dean stated. "But I was stopped."  
  
"Sam realized what his brother was planning and we captured him before he could do it," Castiel picked up the tale. "We took him somewhere safe where we could keep him contained. Or at least we thought we could."  
  
Once again, Dean flinched and this time he closed his eyes, swallowing. He looked like he was in pain or was expecting an attack and Michael frowned as he tried to figure out what was going on. Castiel seemed to have noticed his mate's distress as well as he stepped closer to him and reached up to turn Dean's face towards himself.  
  
"Cas, I'm so sorry, I should never ha-"  
  
"Hush, Dean, hush," Castiel said, his Grace reaching out to soothe his mate's soul and Michael wondered if his vessel was aware of that or not. "You are forgiven, please stop punishing yourself for it."  
  
"What did he do?" Raphael inquired when the tension had faded a little.  
  
"Banishing sigil," Castiel told them and Michael winced in sympathy.  
  
"He did this to try and find me?" Michael asked.  
  
"He had found one of Zachariah's human puppets when I caught up with him. The man had just started praying for you."  
  
"I never heard it."  
  
"Cas didn't exactly waste any time putting the whammy on him," Dean explained wryly. "Nor did he fail to make just how pissed he was with me crystal clear."  
  
This time it was Castiel who seemed uncomfortable and his brother tried to draw back, but his vessel wasn't allowing it. Michael wasn't sure what happened next as the two of them were just staring at each other without speaking, though they clearly must have been communicating in some manner as they both seemed calmer a minute later. He found that he wished he could understand what had just transpired  
  
"So, anyway," Dean finally said, stepping back. "I considered it, once."  
  
Michael wasn't sure what to say to that and allowed Raphael to step forwards when he could sense that his brother had calmed down somewhat.  
  
"I still think we should perform the Rite of Contressa," Raphael stated. "If we do not, then Lucifer will be free shortly and we will be unable to do more then to try and mitigate any damage he wishes to cause. If we cannot outright kill him, then there is no other viable option available to us at present."


	56. Chapter 55

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean gives serious thought to what Raphael said and Castiel weighs in with his opinion.

**PAST**  
  
  
Dean sighed, wishing he had a far more valid reason for just outright saying no then because he didn't want to. The problem was, Raphael's points were far too valid for him to dismiss outright, no matter how much he might want to. When it came right down to it, he'd been prepared to say yes once before when he'd thought it was the only way to save lives and that seemed to be exactly what the case was here.  
  
The new reminder of what had happened the last time made him wince though he managed to contain his flinch this time. It wasn't the memory of Castiel's fists striking him, or even of having his lover's superior strength used against him, that bothered Dean, but rather the pain and sheer desperation he could recall seeing in his angel's eyes. And the  _betrayal_. He didn't think he'd ever forget seeing that there and knowing that he'd been the cause of it. He knew this was probably backwards to how most people would see it, how they'd see the beating as by far the worst, but he couldn't really complain, as he himself had often spoken with a fist when he was angry. Hell, chances were that Castiel had learned that type of behavior from him and if that wasn't poetic justice, then he didn't know what was.  
  
"You know, it's all pretty easy for you to say," Dean finally said. "But you're not the one that has to do it. Could you just do it? Give up all control of yourself to someone else to do with as they please?"  
  
Raphael, the bastard, at least had the good grace to look away from Dean's gaze, though he still couldn't resist replying. "It is not me that we are talking about here."  
  
"Not an answer."  
  
He hesitated briefly then, not sure if he wanted to make his next point or not. It was a valid one, Dean knew, but he didn't want to hurt Castiel and he knew it probably would. On the other hand, he doubted that his lover would want him to forgo making this point on his account.  
  
"Besides, it's not like I've got any good precedents to take comfort in either," Dean stated.  
  
Michael frowned. "What do you mean?"  
  
"Well, think about it, every single vessel that I've known hasn't come out of the experience well. They've either died, mostly with the angel; been reduced to a drooling mess, to use your own words; had to watch their bodies be used to hurt family and friends; or... or whatever the hell was happening to Lucifer's first vessel," Dean replied, gesturing at his own face. "You know, with the whole wasting away thing or whatever."  
  
"Power decay?" Michael asked, looking at his younger brother.  
  
"Yes," Castiel confirmed.  
  
"Power decay?" Dean inquired.  
  
"That vessel was not Lucifer's true vessel, just like all of the vessels I have used are not you," Michael explained. "There is a reason that archangels have so few true vessels and that is because most cannot contain our full power."  
  
"So it starts to destroy the meatsuit?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Okay," Dean began and then blanched. "Wait, you mean my aunt's going to start... you know?"  
  
"Given enough time, yes, I am sorry. Since her soul is no longer here and the fact that I have limited the use of my power, her meatsuit will last longer, but eventually it too will start to decay."  
  
"Why does it make a difference that her soul isn't there anymore?"  
  
"Less strain," Raphael stated. "It is only the fact that Michael and Lucifer are so skilled that they are able to keep the soul undamaged at all."  
  
"You would not need to worry about power decay, Dean," Michael reassured. "Even if I were to use the full extent of my powers while in you, you would remain unharmed. In fact, you would come out of the experience healthier then you are now as not only would I heal any injuries we might sustain, but I would be able to heal anything you are not even aware of right now. Say to your liver or arteries."  
  
Dean couldn't help but give a short bark of laughter at that. "Funny, very funny. So, you're promising to return me better than new?"  
  
"You know that I cannot promise that. I can give you my word that I will do everything in my power to achieve that, but were we to encounter Lucifer, then I cannot guarantee that we would make it out alive."  
  
"At least you're honest."  
  
Dean was aware of the fact that Castiel had been shifting closer and closer to him and he turned to give his lover a reassuring smile, though he suspected that it came out as more of a grimace than anything else. He hated to worry his angel, but Raphael had a point, dammit! And he needed as much information as he could get so he could at least say he'd given it due consideration or whatever the hell the phrase was. If he was honest with himself, even the mere thought of saying yes and becoming a vessel, even to Michael as he now knew him, not only freaked him out, but downright terrified him. He'd never been good with not being in control except where first his father and now Castiel were concerned and this was the biggest loss of control he'd ever considered. Hell, he still couldn't figure out what he'd been thinking before, trying to say yes. He strongly suspected that Bobby was right and that he  _hadn't_  been, thinking that was, not he'd ever admit to that.  
  
"Dean, of all the possibilities that you mentioned, us both getting killed is the only one you need worry about," Michael stated, moving closer and turning Dean's face so there could be no misunderstanding. "I have promised that I would not burn you out before. Nor would I harm those you love, whether it be your mate, your brother or your friends."  
  
There is was again, that word 'mate.' Castiel had used it once and he'd wondered at it then, but never asked about it. Dean had just assumed that it was the angelic equivalent of the human word 'lover,' but he wasn't a hundred percent sure. He was distracted from this line of thought as a fragment of a memory hit him. It was just a few images and words, but he jerked backwards in shock and surprise.  
  
"Dean?"  
  
It took Dean a second to realize that one of the two calls he heard was from his mother in the past and the other was from Castiel who was suddenly before him.  
  
"It's okay, I'm fine," Dean assured his angel. "Just a flashback. Aunt Deirdre did that once, held my face like that and it... just caught me off-guard is all."  
  
Castiel regarded him for a long moment before turning to his brothers. "I think you should go now."  
  
"We have not reached a decision yet," Raphael protested.  
  
"There is still time, Raphael," Michael said turning to his brother. "Come, let us go."  
  
"But-"  
  
"If you push him, the answer will be no."  
  
It startled Dean a little that Michael had come to know him that well, but it was also somewhat comforting. Much as it might feel like he was banging his head against a brick wall as far as Raphael was concerned, it was nice to see that there was an angel other than his lover who could learn to be less of a dick. If nothing else, it meant that Castiel gained another brother he could deal with without the threat of, and need for, violence. He'd take that any day.  
  
Dean wasn't sure when he'd ended up back at his bed, but he collapsed down onto it as soon as Michael and Raphael departed. It took him a few moments to take some stock of everything that had just happened, but when he did, he looked up to realize that, for once, he was the one sitting calmly while Castiel paced the room in agitation. He had been a bad influence on his angel, he realized dully as he watched him go back and forth, and back and forth across the small room. Neither of them had said a word since for the past few minutes, but he knew that they were both thinking about the same thing.  
  
He was going to have to say yes.  
  
The thought still terrified Dean, but it was rapidly becoming clear that they didn't have much of a choice. It wasn't that he hadn't started to trust Michael, he had as the archangel seemed to be genuinely on their side now, both of them if he were truly honest with himself. It was hard, though, knowing that Raphael had killed Castiel with exactly the same conviction as he now argued for him becoming Michael's vessel. The thing was, this time he couldn't poke so many holes in the archangel's logic that it ended up looking more like Swiss cheese than anything else and that scared him.  
  
How could they possibly have ended up back here yet again? Wasn't once enough? Dean had to swallow a bark of harsh, unamused laughter as another thought occurred to him. Was this perhaps someone's - God's?- way of trying to drill it into his thick skull that he couldn't escape his destiny? The thought was nearly enough to make him say up yours to reason and cling to his desirable no, it had more than served him well so far. In fact, the only other time he'd strayed from it, he'd ended up sorely regretting it. The thing was, though, what else could they do? Raphael was right that it was unreasonable to expect another option to miraculous appear to them before Lucifer broke free.  
  
Dean groaned, completely unable to think straight between the terror and despair. If he said no and more people died as a result... he wasn't sure he could handle that.  
  
"Cas-"  
  
"No!"  
  
"Cas, wha-" Dean began and then yelped as his lover was suddenly before him, effortlessly dragging him upright and he had to scramble to get his feet under him. "Shit-"  
  
"No, I won't let you do it. Not again."  
  
"Cas, I-"  
  
His words were cut off as Castiel caught his lips in a searing kiss and all rational thought fled as Dean automatically responded to it. The next instant he was flat on his back and his lover had literally ripped his shirts off to get at the scar on his shoulder.  
  
"Mine!" Castiel declared, slotting his hand into place and placing biting kiss along his shoulder towards his neck. "Mine, not Michael's!"  
  
Dean couldn't do anything but moan helplessly and buck up against his lover as Castiel began creating a new mark at the base of his throat. Oh God, he'd just gone from zero to raring faster then he'd thought possible and it almost hurt, but in a good way, like the little flashes of pain from his neck. It looked like he'd be getting his burn after all.  
  
"Shit! Fuck, Cas, please!"  
  
"Yes, fuck is exactly right. I'm going to fuck you, Dean."  
  
Castiel rolled their hips together as he said it and Dean's brain fizzed out and all he could do was whine. Somewhere along the line his lover had stopped using the dirty language as much and while he didn't mind, its use was still guaranteed to turn him on fast, not that he hadn't already been, but fuck! The sudden disappearance of their clothes drew a mewl from him as he had acres of smooth, warm skin pressing down on him. He tried to bring his hands up to clutch at his angel, but the move was thwarted as Cas grabbed his wrists and pinned them down to the bed above his head with one hand.  
  
"No," Castiel growled. "Mine."  
  
"Yours," Dean finally managed to force out, afraid he'd come before anything really started.  
  
At this rate it was practically inevitable, but he couldn't find it in him to care. All Dean could do was writhe and keen as his lover ran his free hand possessively over his body before it slid back to the handprint on his shoulder. The hand holding his wrists was suddenly running over his arms, then down his flank to reach their groins so it could grasp both their cocks as Castiel began biting marks into his other shoulder. It was with a start that he realized that he still couldn't move his hands and he would have come right then if it wasn't for the hand that tightened around the base of his cock.  
  
"Cas!" Dean whined in protest.  
  
"Not until I'm in you."  
  
The words pulled more embarrassing sounds from his throat and Dean felt his eyes roll back into his head as his back arched, baring his throat. He felt teeth scrap along it as there was the familiar sound of a tube of lube being opened and then it took a few seconds for him to realize that his lover had frozen above him. It was a few more seconds before he could open his eyes and focus on Castiel to see what was going on. There were a dozen different emotions warring for dominance on his angel's face and he couldn't quite figure them out in his current state until dismay and guilt became the predominant ones and suddenly the pressure at his wrist was abruptly gone and then it suddenly clicked in his mind exactly what was happening.  
  
"Dean, I'm sorry, I do not know what came over me," Castiel began, eyes wide.  
  
Oh, no, no, no, not happening! Dean shot upright, one hand grasping the back of his lover's neck while the other supported his weight and let him press up against his angel.  
  
"Don't you dare leave me like this, Cas!" Dean hissed.  
  
It was too much for his angel too suddenly. Yes, Castiel had gone dominant on him before but never like this and never with his mojo and his lover clearly thought that he'd gone too far and abused his power. Cas couldn't be more wrong and Dean was more then a little stunned at how fucking hot he found it- oh look, yet another new kink!- but he was damned if he was going to let his lover think that. Hardly able to think enough to act, let alone speak, he pulled back far enough so that his angel could see his face and he  _willed_  him to read the truth in his eyes.  
  
For a moment, Dean didn't think that it would be enough as Castiel seemed to hesitate, but then his lips were claimed in another searing and possessive kiss before he was forcefully pushed back down onto the bed. He bucked wildly a few times before calming enough to let his lover prepare him, gasping for air when his lips were released.  
  
"Mine, mine, mine," Castiel stated, nipping along his chest as his fingers breached him.  
  
And, yeah, Dean didn't come until his angel was in him, but only because his lover wouldn't have it any other way.


	57. Chapter 56

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Castiel discuss their options.

**PAST**  
  
  
Dean was drifting on a haze of bliss more asleep than awake when he felt his warm, makeshift pillow shift beneath him and he muttered in protest and tightened his hold on his lover. Even though he wasn't really tired, he just wanted to bask in the afterglow of a fantastic fuck, as that was most definitely what it had been, no doubt about it. Despite the fact that he'd never expected to come to enjoy the more leisurely kind of sex, what the chicks always called 'making love' in the movies, he had to admit it could be intense in its own way even if it still made him feel oddly vulnerable. He just couldn't see why people said the fast and rough was so demeaning and devoid of emotion as he most definitely had felt stuff beyond the physical doing just that. Hell, even now it still managed to make him feel warm, just thinking of how out of control the thought of losing him made Castiel was almost as good as hearing him say 'I love you' as it was undeniable proof thereof.  
  
"I just want to go get you some food," Castiel said, an odd tone to his voice.  
  
"Nuh," Dean replied, not really wanting to give up the bliss. "'ot h'ngr'."  
  
Then the meaning of his lover's words really penetrated and he frowned before opening one eye and glancing at the room's window. Although the sun wasn't as high as earlier, it was clearly still early afternoon and not time for a meal as Castiel knew very well by now.  
  
"How about some pie or other desserts then? Do you want something specific or shall I surprise you?"  
  
That odd note was still present in his angel's voice and the afterglow abruptly vanished as Dean realized that it wasn't being shared. The memory of Castiel's little hang-up earlier returned and he realized that while his reaction had been enough to assuage his lover in the middle of sex, it wasn't enough to do so now. Determined to rectify things right away, he pulled himself into a seated position so he could look his angel in the eye.  
  
"Cas, I swear that I enjoyed everything and that you didn't do anything you need to apologize for," Dean stated firmly.  
  
"I used my strength against you."  
  
"Yeah, but you didn't cover my mouth and I could have told you to stop at any time if I didn't like it, and I didn't do so."  
  
Castiel's gaze bore into his and Dean knew he must be looking at his soul again. The intensity didn't lessen even when he felt his lover's fingers come up to encircle his wrists, effectively trapping them if his angel wished to do so.  
  
"Why does it not bother you? I have intentionally hurt you in the past with my strength."  
  
"And saved me from making a really stupid decision," Dean replied, his overall point more than proved by how easily he was able to lift his hand to Castiel's face, the fingers letting him go with no hesitation whatsoever. "Besides, I know you're not going to hurt me, but if it helps, I promise to let you know if you ever do something that I don't like, okay?"  
  
His lover looked at him a moment longer before nodding.  
  
"Okay, great. But, Cas, I want you to promise me the same thing as well."  
  
Castiel frowned. "I have seen you do things for Sam and Bobby that you didn't like, why is this different?"  
  
"Huh? Oh, 'cause I was talking about sex," Dean pulled a face at the mental image his angel had just given him. "Sex is supposed to be good for both people involved."  
  
"But what if you enjoy something?"  
  
"I don't want it if you don't like it, Cas."  
  
"Very well, I promise."  
  
This time it was Dean's turn to just look at his lover for a moment. "Good. Now, about the other thing you mentioned, that's different. In those types of relationships, or in any relationship really, people will do things they don't like so much because they know it will make the other person happy. So you're really doing it for them."  
  
"Humans are so odd and quaint sometimes."  
  
"Hey!" Dean protested, his glare ruined as Castiel sat up and kissed the tip of his nose. "Dude! No fair, and don't knock it till you've tried it."  
  
"Of course not."  
  
Dean scowled at his lover but soon huffed as he found that he wasn't willing to pull away from Castiel to further prove his annoyance. Not when his angel's hands were petting him like that. It was as he relaxed into the touches that he realized that they'd just had a serious chick flick moment and he hadn't even noticed it until it was over. He wanted to be annoyed at that, but just couldn't seem to work up the energy to do so. The thought left him as his lover ran a blunt nail over one of the hickeys at the base of his throat.  
  
"We should get dressed," Castiel finally said.  
  
Dean sighed though he knew it was true. "I should probably take a shower before doing that." The sudden tingling of his skin made him jump a little but he smiled at his angel. "You're handy to have around, you know that?"  
  
"You didn't sound like you wished to shower."  
  
"No."  
  
He really hadn't and thus was glad to avoid it. Dean then rolled to the side of the bed where his remaining clothes had ended up, neatly folded as always, next to the room's obligatory alarm clock. He grabbed his boxers and jeans, pulling them on before he stretched, scratching his stomach. He was just about to go rummage through his duffle for replacement shirts when the two he had been wearing earlier and that his lover had literally torn off of him were offered back to him completely fixed by a slightly embarrassed looking angel.  
  
"Cas, I said it's fine."  
  
"I am unaccustomed to losing control in that manner."  
  
"But did you enjoy it, right?"  
  
Castiel looked away for a moment before meeting his eyes again and nodding once sharply. "Yes."  
  
"Well, then it's all good."  
  
With a deep breath, Dean forced himself to step over towards the table on which the book about the Rite of Contressa still lay open to the appropriate page. He could literally feel the sudden tension that radiated from Castiel, but with a great effort, he forced himself to ignore it and reread the entire entry on the Rite.  
  
Then he did it again. And again. Dean wasn't sure what he was looking for, perhaps something to indicate that it didn't mean no less than what three archangels were absolutely sure that it meant. Needlessly to say, he found absolutely nothing, but let it never be said that he wasn't both persistent and stubborn. When a fourth reading of the entire entry didn't miraculously reveal some new meaning or alternative, he pushed the book away and dropped into the chair, running his hands over his face before looking at his lover.  
  
"No," Castiel stated, a note of desperation in his voice as he shook his head.  
  
Dean closed his eyes, swallowing. "Then what, Cas?"  
  
"Something else. We will find another way to achieve this!"  
  
"Really? How, what, where?" Dean asked as he got to his feet and approached his lover. "Cas, if you know of something- anything!- tell me and I'll happily drop this. You have no idea how much I just want to say no and forget about this possibility altogether. It... I'll be honest, Cas, the thought of saying yes absolutely terrifies me. Like, shitless terrified."  
  
Emotions flashed across Castiel's face faster then Dean could follow, but the hand that had come up to rest on his shoulder tightened tellingly in his over shirt. He'd give anything to spare his angel all of this pain, but he just didn't know what else to do. The thought of saying no now and then having to live with knowing that he could have done something and hadn't when people started to die... he wasn't sure if he could live with that. Not again and not now that he knew Michael and knew for sure the archangel wasn't going to rush off and start a fight with Lucifer that would destroy half the planet.  
  
In the end, though, misery and pain were all that were left on Castiel's face and Dean knew that his angel didn't have any better ideas. It made him want to scream. How could it be that they were back here again, faced with the same decision despite all that they had done in-between? For just a moment, he absolutely hated his brother for having pulled Michael down into the cage together with himself and Lucifer. Not only had doing so condemned Adam to Hell, at least temporarily, but it was also the reason why Gabriel's wonderful plan had failed. If Sam had only stuck to their original plan, then Lucifer would be locked up for good and he wouldn't be here, faced with having to become a vessel.  
  
Despite that, Dean liked to think that he and Castiel would still have ended up together somehow. He had to believe that it would have happened sooner or later even without his lover's worries of a renewed Apocalypse to prompt his initial visit.  
  
"I do not know of anything else," Castiel started. "But we have not yet finished going through all of the books that we acquired from the Vatican."  
  
"And what are the odds that there's something in there that will not only not require me to say yes to Michael, but to work as well?"  
  
"I don't know, but we may find something better, something which is an actual solution rather than merely a means to delay the inevitable as the Rite of Contressa is. It does not actually confine Lucifer, it merely prevents him from taking a vessel."  
  
"Yeah, but that would curb most of his more immediate plans, wouldn't it? He can't really be on Earth without a vessel, right?"  
  
"Yes," Castiel admitted reluctantly before horror flashed across his face.  
  
"What? What is it?" Dean demanded urgently.  
  
His lover looked at him in dismay before his shoulders slumped in resignation. "Once permission has been granted, an angel can take his vessel whenever he wants to. It isn't a one time deal, it couldn't be with most archangels as their vessels are no longer in any condition to grant permission on subsequent occasions."  
  
It took a second for the meaning of that to dawn on Dean, but when it did he felt his stomach drop. "Cas, are you saying that when he gets free, Lucifer can just slip right back into Sam?"  
  
"Once he has managed to locate him, yes."  
  
Dean cursed, turning to start pacing the room in agitation. He'd known Sam's plan to say yes in order to get Lucifer back into his cage was a bad one right from the start, but had anyone listened to him? No, of course not and now look at this fucking mess! If only he'd stood his ground back then instead of caving and letting his brother carry out his idiotic plan. They should have found another way to get Lucifer back into his cage, a way that wouldn't have left them with a disintegrating cage and no other ideas for how to avert the Apocalypse from its destructive resolution.  
  
The knowledge that Lucifer would not only be free if they didn't do this or something else soon, but would have his true vessel as soon as he found him ate at Dean not only because of what it would mean for his brother, but because what it meant for the devil as well. With Sam, Lucifer would be able to do whatever he wanted. His power would no longer be curbed by a decaying vessel with a limited shelf life. He didn't even want to think of what Lucifer might do without those restrictions, especially now that he was bound to be even more pissed at having been banned to the cage again if only temporarily so soon after having finally broken out of it in the first place.  
  
"Am I wrong here, Cas?" Dean questioned, silently pleading for his lover would answer yes and to set him straight. "Am I making the same mistake as before to think that this is not only a viable option but our only real one? Feel free to beat my ass if I am, I won't stop you."  
  
The remark failed to draw the smile he'd hoped for and Dean knew that he was screwed, completely and hopelessly screwed. The silence stretched and eventually Castiel's whole posture sagged in defeat and resignation.  
  
"No, Dean, you are not mistaken this time. I... I wish I could say you were wrong, but that would be just my fear speaking. Much as I want to give into it and take you somewhere safe, I know it would not be the right thing to do, nor would you thank me for it."  
  
"I don't know about that last, Cas, I think I'd be perfectly happy to have the decision taken out of my hands like that."  
  
"No you would not be. The consequences of it would weigh on your soul regardless of whether you could do anything about it or not," Castiel stated with absolute conviction. "I fear it is your very righteousness that traps us now."  
  
"I don't believe for an instant that you would be able to live with yourself either if we ignored this and people died, Cas. You've already proven you're incapable of allowing that type of behavior to go unchecked."  
  
"Dean..."  
  
"Do you trust Michael, Cas?"  
  
"If you are asking me if I think that he will stay true to our course of action, then yes, I trust him."  
  
"And otherwise? Will he abuse my consent?"  
  
"No, I do not believe so."  
  
Without intending to do so, Dean found himself staring at Castiel again, locked in one of those long stares Sam used to comment on. His throat had closed up and he found it was a startling comfort to know that his lover was able to read so much from him without the need for words as he didn't think he'd know what to say even if he could force them out. He completely lost track of time and wouldn't have been able to say how long they stood there before Castiel closed the distance between them, kissing him fiercely. He responded instantly, having to suppress an unexpected sob.  
  
He could do this, he could give up complete control to Michael in exchange for keeping countless people safe. Although the Rite of Contressa wouldn't end the Apocalypse, it would give them the precious time they needed to find something else that could. Instead of having just a few short weeks if they were lucky, it could extend the time they had significantly and surely that was worth this sacrifice on his part? It wasn't like it was the worst one he'd ever made, even if he hadn't known that at the time he'd sold his soul. Sure, he'd thought he'd had an idea of what he was doing, but he really hadn't. Not even close in fact.  
  
"Michael," Dean said softly, not breaking the stare.  
  
It only took mere seconds before the flutter of wings filled the room and Michael stood beside them. Dean finally turned his eyes away from his lover to look at the archangel. Although no one had said a thing, he could tell from the widening of Michael's eyes as he looked between him and Castiel that the archangel had figured out why they had called him.  
  
"You have made a decision," Michael said, looking right at him.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
Castiel was suddenly moving, coming to stand between them. "Michael-"  
  
"I will not abuse his permission, Castiel," Michael declared. "You have my word that I shall do everything within my power to make this as easy on him as it is possible to be and to take care of him to the best of my ability."  
  
Dean swallowed at that, the words soothing some of his terror, but most of it still remained. He didn't think it was possible for it to be otherwise, not with what he was about to do here. He'd rather face a pack of starving vampires alone than to voluntarily give up all control like this. It just wasn't in his nature to do so but circumstances dictated that he most or accept the spillage of innocent blood and that was simply unacceptable. Not if he could do something about it that wouldn't result in even greater bloodshed.  
  
"There is also something which I wished to offer," Michael continued.  
  
"Offer?" Dean questioned.  
  
"Yes. Although it is customary for an angel to take his or her true vessel and remain in it for the duration of their stay on Earth, this is not a necessity."  
  
The way Castiel seemed to perk up at that and glanced back at him with hope, made Dean shift. "What are you saying?"  
  
"I could take you for the Rite and then return to your aunt until such a time as it necessary for us to be together once more. If such a situation arises."  
  
Almost unable to believe his ears, Dean looked between the two archangels. "That's possible?"  
  
"It is difficult to move between vessels, but not impossible. It would be as you have seen before," Castiel replied.  
  
"Right, I forgot about Claire," Dean frowned at the memory of his lover in Jimmy's young daughter before he shook it off.  
  
"It is also draining, but I no longer believe that it is your destiny to be merely a vessel, Dean," Michael stated. "Father clearly has greater plans for you and I will not impede them unnecessarily."  
  
"So, what, we don't need to do this now? Only when we've collected all of the ingredients for the Rite?"  
  
Castiel shook his head. "No, some of the ingredients, like the blessing, will need to be collected by Michael as he will perform the Rite."  
  
"It would also be beneficial for me to have at least been inside you for a short while before performing the Rite as it will require a significant expenditure of Grace."  
  
Okay, that made sense, Dean figured, one didn't take an untested weapon out on a hunt. That left too much potential for nasty surprises and while thinking of himself like that- like some inanimate object- hurt, it also helped stave off the inappropriate desire to laugh. God, if only his father could see him now; Dad would shot him for what he was about to do he was sure.  
  
"But you will return to Deirdre Winchester before the Rite?" Castiel demanded.  
  
"Yes, Brother."  
  
Dean took a deep breath, looking at his lover for a long moment before turning back to face Michael. "Yes. Hop on in, Mike."


	58. Chapter 57

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Campbells and Sam disagree over what to do about Dean.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
Christian could hardly believe his ears as he listened to his cousin and Samuel argue. In most ways, it was very similar to most of the arguments that they'd been having ever since they'd first found Sam and gotten him to join them so that they could all hunt together. Sure, it had shifted slightly over the past year, but in the end it all came down to the same thing; Dean Winchester.  
  
The worst thing was that he just didn't get what all of the fuss was about. Sure, he put a lot of stock in family, but Christian was the first to admit that some people just weren't cut out to be hunters. Although they could trace the hunter calling all the way back to the Mayflower in their family, there were many instances of specific family members turning their back on that way of life. Of turning their back on their own blood. Mary Campbell-Winchester had done it and so had her eldest. Sometimes the bad blood shone through, not that he'd ever say that to Samuel's face. No, the man, though a brilliant hunter, was far too besotted with her to see the truth.  
  
Normally Christian would leave things well enough alone, after all, no harm, no foul, right? The problem was that this obsession with his dead daughter was driving Samuel after her firstborn like it was nobody's business. Although it had been so subtle at first that he hadn't even realized it for what it was back then, Sam and Samuel had been fighting it out about Winchester ever since. There had been a short period after they'd found Sam that everything had seemed okay, Samuel had appeared to be happy to have one of his grandsons, but then the questions about Dean had started. It wasn't until the old man had first compared Winchester with his dead daughter that he'd clued into the fact that this wasn't something that was just going to go away. Not with how often Samuel talked about Mary.  
  
The only thing that Christian still wasn't completely sure about was whether Winchester had come to represent and replace Mary in Samuel's mind or not. The far more tangible and attainable goal of an otherwise impossible dream. He'd be sure but for the fact that Samuel never seemed to confuse the two as he'd seen happen when people lost a loved one and then started transferring that love and attention onto someone else. What he was absolutely sure about, though, was that he'd had enough. Enough of the constant push get Winchester to join them. Enough of the resultant arguments and enough of hearing such an obviously weak and pathetic excuse for a human being get so upheld and revered. Christ, but it was like Dean Winchester could do no wrong.  
  
Besides, just how the hell could Samuel think he knew Winchester better than Sam?  
  
It was simply mind-blowing to him how such an otherwise smart and gifted hunter as Samuel could be so blind. Christian just didn't get it. At all. How could Samuel not see that Winchester just wasn't cut out for this life? Not only had he bailed, but he'd fucking /caved and broken/! What of kind of man began torturing others and started the fucking Apocalypse to escape a little pain? What the hell kind of hunter did that? None but a fucking coward. And to do so for /ten/ fucking years? And really, what proof did they have other than Winchester's word that it had even been that long for him? That it hadn't just been four months? He'd bet good money that the bastard was lying just to make himself look better.  
  
"You know this is really starting to get old," Christian finally drawled, tired of this shit.  
  
The sudden little laugh that Gwen tried to hide had him smirking at her. God but she was a woman after Christian's own heart and living proof that there were no gender lines to being a damned good hunter. The fact that the elder Winchester was also proof for that was merely a delicious piece of irony. He didn't think he'd ever forget the look on Sam's face or his own startled laughter when the first thing out of Gwen's mouth upon seeing a photo of Sam's infamous big brother had been a remark on his delicate features. Not only had it been hilarious, but she'd hit the nail right on the head. Who could ever take such a pretty boy seriously or expect them to do anything even remotely strenuous or dangerous?  
  
"Amen," Gwen stated.  
  
"How can you even say that?" Samuel questioned. "Everything has changed!"  
  
"Yeah, like what?" Christian demanded. "As far as I see it, you're still arguing about whether or not to get Winchester to join us."  
  
"Yes, but now we'd not be pulling him away from a family and the kind of life Sam was hoping he'd have."  
  
"Yeah, 'cause he's already messed that up himself," Sam muttered. "I should have known that he wouldn't be able to handle that and would find a way to sabotage it. I just feel sorry for Lisa now."  
  
"Maybe it just wasn't the kind of life for him. A lot of hunters can't take the settled life very well."  
  
"Oh please," Christian snorted. "You think he fucked up with the woman and her kid because he was too much of a hunter?"  
  
"Why are you so determined to see the worst in him?" Samuel asked.  
  
"Why are you so determined to put him on a pedestal?"  
  
"I'm not putting him on a pedestal."  
  
"Could have fooled me. And I'm not seeking the worst in him, I've just been listening to what Sam has said."  
  
"I think we're focusing on the wrong thing here," Gwen interrupted. "Forget about Dean, we have the Apocalypse to deal with now."  
  
"Exactly, which is all the more reason why we need Dean with us," Samuel stated. "He knows more about that than any of us."  
  
"Hey," Sam said, offended. "I know all about the Apocalypse too, more probably as I did far more research on it then Dean did. And that's not considering Bobby who did his fair share of research as well."  
  
"But not recently."  
  
"If anything that only proves our point even more," Christian countered. "Winchester has known that the Apocalypse wasn't done for over a year now and what has he done about it? Jack shit from what I can see."  
  
"Watch your language. And we don't know that."  
  
Christian raised an eyebrow. "No? The last that Sam knew, Lucifer and Michael were securely locked in a cage. And now look at them, both are out and the devil himself is probably gunning for Sam here. How is that any kind of progress?"  
  
"We don't know what happened."  
  
"Exactly! For all we know, Winchester is responsible for them being out."  
  
"Now just wait a minute," Sam protested. "Dean would never let them out. Yes, he's made some really stupid decisions in the past, but he would never do that. Not after all that we did to put them away to begin with."  
  
"So maybe he didn't do it consciously or of his free will."  
  
"Just what are you implying?" Gwen inquired curiously.  
  
"Exactly what I said," Christian replied. "Just think about it, who started this whole mess in the first place? Winchester. That's not a particularly good track record and something we shouldn't lose sight of. But even beyond that, who orchestrated all of the events leading up to the Apocalypse?"  
  
"The angels," Sam spat.  
  
"Precisely. Now, who is Winchester spending time with?"  
  
"Angels," Mark responded, speaking up for once.  
  
It said a lot that the normally silent hunter did so and Christian knew that he had someone else on his side. "Bingo."  
  
"One of those angels is Castiel," Samuel argued, turning to Sam. "You said yourself he was to be trusted."  
  
"I said that he was on our side before," Sam corrected. "There's nothing to say that he hasn't changed sides again. I mean it's not like he hasn't done so before. And from what Bobby said, he was restored to full power after I locked up Michael and Lucifer. It could be that he was reverted back to the utterly emotionless robot he was at the beginning unlike the somewhat feeling state he'd finally managed to attain."  
  
"Yeah, who's to say that didn't happen?" Christian pressed. "They reprogrammed him once before, didn't they?"  
  
"Yes and it cost us the last few seals," Sam sighed. "Or he could just have given up. Both him and Dean were at the end of their ropes just before Detroit as evidenced by Dean's stupid attempt to capitulate to Michael. This might be Cas' way of doing the same."  
  
"But you don't know that," Samuel pointed out. "You also said that he was acting normally when we saw him."  
  
"In some ways, yes. In others, not at all. The Castiel I knew would never have stood calmly by with Michael nearby, especially not if Dean was present. Something has obviously changed and not in a good way."  
  
"Which brings me to my next point," Christian stated. "Sam said that Michael was one of the architects of this whole Apocalypse and who now suddenly appears at Winchester's side? At the side of the man without who the Apocalypse could never have been started and the only person who the angels seem to think can end it in the way that they want? Michael, that's who. Don't even try to tell me that's not suspicious."  
  
There was a brief silence in the room after that and Christian was glad that for once Samuel seemed to be mulling over something negative relating to Winchester. It had grated that the older hunter had never taken what he'd said about the guy seriously, something made all the worse by the fact that Samuel listened and trusted him on all other matters. Samuel could have saved himself a lot of grief and potential heartache if only he'd listened to him before.  
  
It also wasn't that he was against everything Samuel was proposing they do. Christian completely agreed that they needed to set up a base camp somewhere and start organizing everything they knew about the Apocalypse in one place. Not only would it make things infinitely easier, but it would also allow them to see patterns and solutions better. It was just the part about getting Winchester to join them there that he was having issues with. Either the man was a fool being led by the nose by those he was supposedly against or he'd betrayed humanity. /Again/. Neither was a particularly pleasant option and he thought it much better to keep Winchester as far away from their efforts as possible.  
  
"Besides, even if he isn't completely that far gone, it's clear he's working with the angels," Gwen finally added. "Anything we tell him could well end up getting right back to Michael and company. I think it's better to play this one close to the chest, we have far too much to lose to do anything else."  
  
"They're right, Samuel," Sam stated.  
  
"Okay, just supposing you're right for a minute, which I don't believe, then wouldn't it still be better to keep Dean as close to us as possible?" Samuel demanded. "If you think he's in such danger of completely caving to Michael, isn't it better to keep close tabs on him to ensure that he doesn't? From what you've said, it could be the end of everything if Michael gets him as his vessel."  
  
See, that right there? That was part of what made Samuel so incredibly dangerous. Christian couldn't help but admire the tactic even as it annoyed him. The older hunter had just managed to take everything they'd said, twist it around in a way that still sounded reasonable and then present it in such a way that still got him the result he wanted.  
  
"Except that would just bring us back around to letting the angels know about everything that we're doing," Christian argued. "Besides, Winchester would still be able to say yes, unless you planned on gagging him or drugging him into unconsciousness the whole time? Because we all know how well angels keep their noses out of other people's business. I can't be the only one more than a little perturbed by the fact that Castiel admitted to spying on us without our knowledge."  
  
"We could still keep Dean semi-close," Sam offered his grandfather. "If nothing else, we still need him for the ritual."  
  
"Yeah, about that, do you think it's real?" Christian asked.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"How do we know it's not just some ploy on their part to get you to agree to a ritual they want to perform?"  
  
Sam paused to consider that for a moment and Christian could see that even Samuel seemed worried about this possibility.  
  
"I think that it's a risk that I'm just going to have to take," Sam finally replied. "Trust me, the last thing any of us need is Lucifer inside of me again. Quite frankly, I'd rather kill myself than go through that again as well."  
  
"It won't to come to that," Samuel stated instantly.  
  
"That decision is based on believing Castiel's assertion that Lucifer doesn't need your permission again," Gwen pointed out. "Do you have anything to back this statement?"  
  
"No, actu- wait, yes, I do. Dean saw Raphael's vessel after he'd left it and there is no way that he could have given permission for Raphael to come back in, so it has to remain valid. Oth-"  
  
The blood drained from Sam's face so rapidly that Christian took a step forwards, worried his cousin might suddenly faint. "What's wrong? What is it?"  
  
"Shit!"  
  
It was all Sam said loud enough for them to understand as he turned and rushed to his laptop, muttering to himself. All of their questions were ignored and so Christian approached and looked over his cousin's shoulder to see what he was doing. Sam was currently navigating the archives of one of the big newspapers in Maine, clearly looking for something specific. He ended up on several articles about a massive gas station explosion there nearly two years ago. From there, Sam latched onto the name of the only survivor, Donnie Finnerman, and continued his search until he found an article with a photo and Christian's breath caught as he instantly recognized the man.  
  
"Son of a bitch!" Christian exclaimed. "That's him!"  
  
"That's who?" Samuel demanded and then cursed when Sam turned his laptop so everyone else could see. "Who is that?"  
  
"Donnie Finnerman, or at least that's who he was before he said yes to an angel, now he's Raphael," Sam declared.  
  
Samuel closed his eyes. "Raphael, wasn't he one of the other big angels behind getting the Apocalypse started?"  
  
"Yes."


	59. Chapter 58

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Yes. Hop on in, Mike."

**PAST**  
  
  
When Michael stepped forwards, towards him, Dean couldn't help it, he flinched.  
  
"Sorry," Dean said, biting his lip and lowering his eyes.  
  
"Dean," Michael replied and cupped his face.  
  
And really, the archangel was luckily his current vessel was female as Dean was sure he'd have taken a swing if male hands other then Castiel's had done that. Or rather,  _he_  was lucky that Michael's current vessel was female as it was his hand that would be broken and not Michael's face. But, really, that was only part of it.  
  
"Dude, what's with you and touching my face anyway?"  
  
Michael blinked, seemingly as startled as he was by the realization. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean could see Castiel shift and knew his lover had only just noticed this habit of his brother's as well. Odd, that, he'd have thought that of all of them, his lover would have been the first pick up on it, what with his jealous streak and all. Could it be that his angel hadn't seen it because this was normal behavior for an angel around his would be vessel? But no, that couldn't be as most angels wouldn't already be in another, less suited vessel when they approached their true vessel.  
  
Dean tried to shove the thought aside as he recognized it for the desperate attempt at distraction that it was. Although he knew that he often tried to deny things that he didn't want to deal with, he did not make it a habit to cower away from situations close at hand and this one most definitely was.  
  
"I am making you uncomfortable," Michael stated, drawing back. "My apologies, that was not my intention."  
  
"Then what was?" Dean asked, genuinely curious now.  
  
That type of touch was so far from normal, ordinary angelic behavior that he was really interested as to what was driving it. Sure, Castiel had learned the comfort and reassurance of touch, but Dean certainly didn't expect an archangel like Michael to be able to understand that. It was far too human a concept for God's firstborn angel.  
  
"Rather the opposite of its obvious effect," Michael replied somewhat wryly. "I have observed humans doing it to each other when the recipient is clearly in distress."  
  
Okay, so obviously he'd been wrong. Although Dean truly doubted that Michael fully comprehended what it was he was trying to mimic, it wasn't a bad idea to try and imitate that which he'd seen. At the very least, it showed an effort on the archangel's part, first in actually noticing and understanding what was happening and then in attempting to attain the same outcome later on with him.  
  
"Okay, thanks for the thought, but that's something that's kinda personal," Dean explained.  
  
"I do not understand."  
  
"No, of course not. Look, I get that you don't get it, but trust me on this, that's not something you can just go around doing to people, okay? That type of touch is reserved for people who know each other well and are comfortable around one another, it's not something you do to complete strangers or simple acquaintances."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because it just is. Look, if you go around doing that to people, you could get me into serious trouble."  
  
As he'd hoped, Dean saw Michael's face cloud over at that. The last thing he needed was to get his meatsuit back only to discover that the archangel had inadvertently put him back on the legal radar only this time as a pervert that couldn't keep his hands to himself. And wouldn't that have been ironic given Castiel's near complete lack of touching at first?  
  
"I would not have performed this ritual with other humans, but I shall remember that."  
  
"Great."  
  
This time when Michael stepped closer, Dean was able to contain his instinctive flinch, but that was about the only thing he could control. His heart rate kicked up into overtime to the point where he began to wonder that Castiel and Michael didn't seem to be able to hear it. It felt like it was trying to beat its way out of his chest, how could they  _not_  hear that? His breathing also picked up and it was all he could do to stop himself from hyperventilating. It was not something he was particularly prone to, but he felt he was justified in this case, knowing what was coming.  
  
Knowing what he'd  _agreed_  to.  
  
Dean swallowed thickly at the thought. He wanted to look back at Castiel, to make sure his lover knew exactly how he felt about him, but he couldn't. He couldn't do anything but look at the archangel before him, the archangel that he'd already given permission to.  
  
_The archangel that was going to take him as his vessel._  
  
The terror was nearly all-consuming and worse than anything he'd ever felt except for- No! He was  _not_  going to think about that, not now. The last thing Dean needed was to totally lose it just now. Not only didn't he want Michael to know exactly how much this terrified him- ha! and just how stupid was that sentiment seeing as the archangel was going to be  _inside_  him soon and would probably be able to pluck it all right out of his mind?- but he was painfully aware of Castiel's presence. Somehow that had gone from being comforting to being something he dreaded. It was a silly notion as his angel was infinitely more aware of what was about to happen then he had any hope of being, but he suddenly didn't want his lover to have to witness this. To see him become...  _other_. If there had been any hope at all of Castiel not seeing him when he was Michael's vessel, he'd not hesitate to ask him to leave, but as it was he knew that was never going to happen. Besides, he didn't think that was entirely his decision to make any more and there was a part of him that didn't want Cas to leave. It wanted his lover here with him for this.  
  
He was sweating now as well and Dean nearly jumped right out of his skin as Michael laid a hand on his arm.  
  
"Come, sit on the bed," Michael said.  
  
"Why?"  
  
Dean was only all too acutely aware of the defiant edge to his voice but he couldn't help it. All of his life, his anger and sarcastic nature had been his automatic responses to fear and those instincts were simply too ingrained for him to easily overcome them now.  
  
"Because your aunt is no longer here and so when I vacate her body, there will be nothing to keep her from falling," Michael replied softly.  
  
The gentleness of the tone irked Dean as he realized that the archangel was effectively treating him like one would a wild animal not quite tamed yet. He didn't get why Michael didn't just get on with it. He had his precious permission, what more did he want? The prolonged wait was merely making him more nervous as it gave him more time to think about what was coming and he hated that. There was a reason why he preferred to jump headlong into things instead of taking it slower as Sam had tried to get him to do for years now. No, if he was going to face something, then he wanted to do it now, dammit, instead of waiting around for his psyche to conjure up all kinds of horrible 'what if' scenarios. What would come, would come and there was no point delaying the inevitable. He preferred to just grab the bull by the horns and get it over with.  
  
"Damnit, will you just do it already?" Dean demanded when he sat down on the bed and it looked like Michael was going to start talking again. "The suspense is killing me, man!"  
  
He only got to see the startled look on Michael's face for a moment because the pained and desperate sound that came from his left had Dean's head snapping around to look at his lover. He had only a second of warning before Castiel was right there, claiming his lips in a desperate and ruthless kiss. He was helpless to do anything under the onslaught but cling to his lover as Castiel clasped him hard enough to bruise, one hand inexorably drawn to the mark on his shoulder despite the layers of clothing obscuring it.  
  
The kiss reminded Dean of the frantic and possessive way Castiel had touched him not even two hours ago and he gave himself over completely to it. All too soon the need to breathe forced them apart, but he didn't let them get far from each other, locking his gaze with that of his lover.  
  
"I love you," Dean whispered, the words flowing easily.  
  
Castiel's eyes closed and he looked almost in pain, throat working uselessly for a few seconds before his angel seemed to steel himself. "I love you too, Dean."  
  
Then Castiel was pulling away from him, turning his head away as if he couldn't bear to witness what happened next. Dean felt another stab of pain at what he was putting his lover through before there was a hand on his shoulder- the unmarked one- and another at his upper chest just where it met his throat. Before he had the chance to really think about it, warmth and energy skittered along his skin like the electrical charge just before a powerful lightning strike and then there was light. Bright, purifying, all-encompassing light and he slammed his eyes shut on instinct.  
  
"Shh, relax, Dean, I won't harm you," the voice was half his aunt and half something else, high, echoing and powerful.  _Michael's_ , he realized with a start. "You can look if you want to."  
  
Almost automatically, Dean opened his eyes once more to find Michael leaning in close and his eyes were caught by the archangel's powerful gaze. The light was all around him, no all around  _them_ , now and he could feel the alien sensation of something starting to sink  _into_  him even as he found himself unable to tear his gaze away from the sight before him. There was a rustle of movement over Michael's shoulders-  _wings?_  perhaps- but his attention was captured by the blaze within the archangel's human eyes and mouth. It took him right back to that warehouse where he, Sammy and Jimmy had tried to save Jimmy's family and he'd ended up witnessing Castiel kicking ass in a little girl's meatsuit before transferring back to Jimmy.  
  
The warmth and energy was steadily taking on a far more electrical charge and was becoming distinctly  _sentient_  as it sank deeper into him and Dean couldn't help it, he struggled. Almost his whole life he'd been told to never give himself over to anything; he had been warned about demons that wanted nothing more than to crawl inside him and take over his meatsuit, so to feel something trying to do that now triggered his instinctive reactions.  
  
"Dean, please do not fight me," Michael requested, voice gentle but strained. "Please do not resist. Just let me in, Little One."  
  
Dean grasped at the remaining link to the outside and what was happening for all that he was worth but it was so incredibly difficult. His instincts and the terror clawing within him were screaming at him to  _fight_ , to not just give in even if he didn't stand a chance of winning this particular battle. He did his best to control himself and just let it happen, but it became increasingly harder as the warmth and energy and charge around him grew progressively stronger and more sentient, coalescing into a distinctive presence- into  _Michael_ \- and he had a bad moment when he realized that it was the archangel's Grace that he was experiencing all around him.  
  
A series of desperate little noises escape him as the archangel's Grace seemed to sink into his body and then Dean jolted as he felt it  _inside_  of him. It wasn't at all like what he'd felt earlier when he'd thought it to be in him, no that had been purely physical, whereas this was... this was...  
  
This was  _inside_  him. The sensory overload that came with so suddenly being made unavoidably aware of an entirely new part of himself nearly had Dean blacking out, but he stubbornly clung to awareness for all he was worth, completely unable to overcome that particular instinct not to pass out if he could at all help it.  
  
"Relax, Little One, hush."  
  
The voice no longer sounded like his aunt at all, but was now purely Michael's and seemed to come from all around him. It was followed a touch to what he instantly recognized as his soul as the archangel's Grace seemed to slid over it, pushing it down before slowly curling around it until he could feel the little electrical shocks of Michael's very essence all around himself.  
  
It was with a start that Dean realized that his aunt's eyes were no longer glowing with their own light, but were rather reflecting the glow from his own eyes back at him. The knowledge caused another hard spike of panic to shoot through him before things shifted with an almost audible click and just like that he was plunged into total sensory deprivation as he lost all connection with his meatsuit.  
  
The light-  _Grace_ \- was still there however, swirling around him, shocking him with little jolts wherever it touched him and Dean felt the absurd desire to laugh hysterically bubble up within him as he recalled Jimmy's comment about it feeling like he was chained to a comet. This wasn't anywhere near that, this was so much,  _infinitely_ , worse than that. It was raw and powerful and charged and... and...  
  
There was a shift in the Grace around him and Dean's consciousness faded abruptly as a jolt that felt like a lightning bolt struck him and effectively short-circuited his soul.  



	60. Chapter 59

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael takes his true vessel.

**PAST**  
  
  
As Dean clearly didn't want to prolong the inevitable, Michael acted the moment his little brother moved out of the way despite his own wish to calm his vessel some more first. The initial stage of their connection was instantaneous as he reached out with his Grace towards Dean. It had never been that easy before, not once, not even with the most eager of his previous vessels. He knew something about what the difference between a true vessel and another, ill-suited one could feel like as his brothers had spoken of it, but he had never imagined that it could be like this.  
  
So amazing. So  _right_.  
  
For the first time, Michael allowed himself to truly think about what it might feel like to be inside his true vessel. To be able to use his complete power without risking power decay or to be able to have his Grace move freely without being squeezed into a too small receptacle. It was almost too heady of a thought and even now, with his Grace rising to the surface easily and skating across the surface of his true vessel, slowly seeping in after forging that first all-important connection, he could hardly believe that it was happening.  
  
The almost immediate way that Dean slammed his eyes shut as his Grace broke free from Deirdre was very telling of his human's experience with angels and it made Michael smile a little. It would be the first time one of his vessels truly knew what he was beyond mere folklore knowledge, most of which was inaccurate anyway.  
  
"Shh, relax, Dean, I won't harm you," Michael soothed, his true voice leaking out as he was so close to the surface. "You can look if you want to."  
  
He left it as an option, open for Dean to decide whether he wanted to or not, though Michael really wished that he would do so. Although his vessel wouldn't be able to see his true form just now- not while his Grace was so fluid in the transition from one vessel to another- Dean would be able to see his Grace and it was a connection he wished to share with his vessel. The fact that Dean went along with it, opening his eyes almost instantly was expected, but he'd wanted to give him that choice. He had already learned what taking away his vessel's choices in an attempt to force him led to and it now shamed him to think of his previous behavior. Besides, it was infinitely more rewarding to know that his vessel had made the choice to do what he did of his own free will.  
  
To know that there had been no coercion involved and that Dean did it because he  _wanted_  to see him.  
  
Those green eyes latched onto his own and Michael held the gaze even as his connection with his current vessel faded and he saw less and less through her eyes and more directly with his Grace. If he'd thought that he already knew what Dean's soul looked like, it was absolutely nothing compared to what he saw now. Human eyes were limited in a lot of ways, even those of a vessel enhanced by angelic power and abilities, and this was no exception. Souls were special and non-physical, his Father's creation at its very best and they were best viewed with as little interference as possible. Even now, with his vessel's soul brighter then he'd ever thought a human soul could get, he knew that he was still not seeing it as it truly was, not with Dean's body in the way, distorting and dimming it to a certain extent.  
  
The sheer desire Michael felt to reach out and touch that soul and cradle it within his Grace took him by surprise. He had always known that he would feel a particular affinity for the soul of his true vessel, but he had never expected it to feel so strong. Either his brothers had been downplaying the connection they had felt with the souls of their true vessels, or this was different from what they had experienced. Although he would normally dismiss the latter option, not seeing why he should be any different from his brothers and sisters, he paused before doing so now. While he couldn't see why his Father would make his experience any different, He had already more than clearly demonstrated that  _Dean_  didn't follow the normal rules. So perhaps this was a deviation from normal?  
  
The one thing that Michael was sure of was that the temptation to reach out and claim his vessel was nearly irresistible and, luckily, he didn't need to resist that impulse. The terror that washed over him as he sunk into his new vessel wasn't entirely unexpected, but he hated it nonetheless. He'd never had such an unwilling vessel before, all of the others had been either honored to be of use to him or had been too desperate for other reasons to truly fear it other than the human instinctive fear of the unknown. To have this happen now, with his first true vessel, the one especially intended for him, was not something he'd ever expected.  
  
Michael  _really_  hated it. He had come to like Dean during the time he had spent with him and even grown to admire him, not an easy feat for a human as he had seen them at their worst and they could go quite low. To have that strong, spirited soul so desperately afraid of him now was very nearly horrifying and he wished to soothe him.  
  
Then the struggling began.  
  
It caught Michael off-guard a little as Dean had given his consent, but he understood it as well. Castiel had once explained his vessel's tendency to resort to anger and offensive tactics when afraid to both himself and Raphael when Raphael had questioned how the hunter could stand so fearlessly in the face of such impossible odds. He had also come to understand that his vessel didn't like feeling cornered and knew that his Grace entering him would likely make him feel trapped, especially when Dean had been so reluctant to let him in to begin with.  
  
He tried to be gentle, to not let his Grace surge in as it wanted to, drawn by both the light of Dean's soul and the call of his true vessel, but it was difficult. Only the knowledge that it could be not only traumatic, but damaging for his vessel for him to rush in so recklessly when the inhabiting soul was fighting kept him in control.  
  
"Dean, please do not fight me," Michael requested, struggling not to hurt his vessel. "Please do not resist. Just let me in, Little One."  
  
In addition to disliking the chaotic emotions lashing at him from his vessel, Michael could easily feel how much Dean's terror was affecting his little brother. Castiel's distress was quite clear to him and he was surprised by the strength of the desire to soothe him that he felt. It hadn't taken him long to see what his Father had approved of so much in his little brother even if the reward that He had chosen to bestow still stunned him. It was just so far beyond anything that He had ever done before. But Castiel's steadfast refusal to be turned from his chosen path was admirable, as was his courage to do what was right. He could only wish that he'd been able to do the same.  
  
As he sank deeper into his vessel, Michael became more and more aware of Dean and realized that the hunter was trying to control himself though his deep-seated fear and instincts were proving difficult to overcome. He did his best to be as gentle as possible, but continued to push forwards until a sudden thrill went through him as his Grace finally-  _finally!_ \- brushed up against Dean's soul. He'd been correct, it was even more stunning then he'd been able to see before and both the strength and frailty of it rushed over him, sparking with a purity of purpose and yet a hardened resolve built upon all of the darkness that he had witnessed and performed. He could sense both Heaven and Hell on it, the pain and the horror, as well as traces of various individuals who'd touched his vessel deeply enough to make an impression on his soul.  
  
Michael was vaguely aware of the sounds escaping Dean's throat as a strange wave of possessive anger washed over him when he recognized one of those individuals as clearly demonic. The impressions left behind by it were tinged with a foreign darkness that he didn't like at all. He could tell that much of the darkness had already been removed by his brother, but Castiel had clearly not been either powerful or knowledgeable enough at the time to remove it all, so he did so now with a sense of immense satisfaction. The other impressions were more benign and he left them, feeling a deep-rooted sense of sorrow spark within him as he recognized traces of Gabriel's presence. He was a bit surprised to find evidence that his brother had been so deeply involved with his vessel, but ignored it for now.  
  
The one presence that Michael couldn't simply push aside in favor of taking full control of his vessel was Castiel's. Although many of the impressions were passing in nature, the result of brief touches to Dean's soul over their time together, there were several that ran far deeper. Some of them were to be expected given how his little brother had rescued the human from Hell and healed both his body and soul, while others were most likely the result of their relationship now, but there was one that trumped all of the others and was something that he could not simply ignore. It was a connection so deep as to have seared its mark on his vessel's body as well as his soul. It pulsed with Castiel's Grace as he came into contact with it and was forced to move around it.  
  
If he'd so desired, Michael could have broken the bond. Snapping the connection would have been the easiest solution to the issue and would have allowed him to complete his own connection with Dean far more efficiently. He discarded the option with hardly a thought, though, not wanting to inflict that pain on either his vessel or his brother and knowing that Dean would never forgive him the trespass. Instead, he coiled himself around the bond, forcing his vessel's soul down as he sank further into him.  
  
"Relax, Little One, hush," Michael soothed as he sensed Dean's desperate struggle to remain conscious.  
  
That he was still able to do so, surprised Michael greatly. Normally the vessel's soul would already have buckled under the strain, settling into a dormant state in which they would remain for the majority of the time, only stirring awake for brief, sporadic moments. He'd thought that he'd accepted Dean's uniqueness already, but his human continued to surprise him and made him all the more eager to discover what his Father had intended when creating this soul.  
  
The feel of that soul within his Grace as he curled around it, cradling it within him, was every bit as amazing as Michael had thought it would be and he was starting to truly understand what had fascinated his little brother about his vessel. He had never experienced anything like it and he'd possessed many a pious and pure vessel. Another spike of hard panic flashed through him from Dean just as he sank fully into his vessel and assumed complete control. Before he could attempt to soothe him, however, he felt the soul connect with his Grace for a brief, wonderful moment before Dean was overcome and lost awareness.  
  
Michael immediately found himself mourning the loss, especially after the brief instance of total connection unlike anything he'd ever been able to imagine before, even though he'd known it was inevitable. For a few short moments there he'd almost dared to believe that Dean would be able to manage that which no vessel had ever been able to; to remain conscious and aware without an extreme effort on his part. It was unheard of for a vessel to achieve that and normally the mere possibility would never have even occurred to him, but Dean had already proven that the normal rules didn't apply to him and he'd managed to remain aware for so long on his own that he'd been unable to not speculate about it.  
  
Even before he'd started taking his true vessel, Michael had already decided that he'd bring Dean's soul out of its hibernation-like slumber on occasion, but it was something even he couldn't maintain easily or indefinitely. He'd felt Lucifer doing it during their confrontation in Lawrence and had felt the strain it had put on his power. He had also borne the consequences of that arrogant and foolish choice when it had weakened his brother enough to allow Sam Winchester to briefly wrest control away from Lucifer. As ever, it was his brother's insufferable pride and arrogance that had led to his downfall. It was sad to see that Lucifer had learned nothing despite his millennia of torment. He now knew no punishment would be able to teach him the errors of his ways and it pained him.  
  
Even unconscious and suppressed, his vessel's soul was still an incomparable treasure and Michael took care to wrap it securely in his Grace so that no harm would come to it during their time together. He also wound his essence carefully around the bond with Castiel, taking care not to dampen it while still ensuring that it did not become a path in that could harm Dean while he slumbered.  
  
His most important task achieved, Michael turned his attention towards his new body. Unlike Deirdre and every single other vessel he had ever possessed before, he didn't feel like this one would burst at the seams at any moment. It was still confining in a way he didn't enjoy, but it was like a gentle resistance that seemed to stretch and shift with him rather than being the harsh, unforgiving restraints of before. He took a few moments to just let himself feel the bones, muscles and nerves, manipulating them experimentally and marvelling at how readily and easily they responded to his commands. He was starting to discover the real difference between a true vessel and those who merely came from the correct bloodline in a way he'd never known before.  
  
His explorations uncovered a few minor injuries around Dean's throat, upper chest and anus, all of which Michael healed before he shifted his attention to his back and stretched each of his wings in turn. Even this, something so inherently part of his true form, felt different now, the movements far easier to achieve as the connection between his vessel and Grace was so strong and easily transmitted signals from one to the other. That done, he turned his attention to Deirdre Winchester's body that now lay slumped ungracefully on the bed in a heap. Carefully, he reached out and shifted her onto her back, much like he'd found her when Raphael had brought him to her after pulling him free from the cage. When that was taken care of, he got to his feet, briefly cataloguing the differences he noted in the room with his greater height, before he finally turned his attention to his little brother. He had purposefully given Castiel some time to himself, but he knew that they had to deal with this now.  
  
"Castiel, Brother," Michael said, noting the flinch his words caused being spoken in the voice of his brother's mate. "Please look at me."


	61. Chapter 60

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel deals with the consequences of Dean having said yes to Michael.

PAST  
  
  
Castiel couldn't help it, he flinched as he heard his brother speak to him with his mate's voice. It wasn't quite the same as both the inflexion and rhythm were off, those were distinctly Michael's, but that simply made it all the worse. It merely proved to drive home to him exactly what had just happened. As if he hadn't already possessed enough proof of it. Still, it was an extremely painful reminder as it left no doubt that his brother was now in his mate and it was worse then he could possibly have imagined hearing Dean's voice when it was so clearly not his hunter who was in control of his body.  
  
For a brief moment, Castiel wanted to deny Michael, to refuse to turn around and look at him. If hearing his brother speak with Dean's voice was already so unbelievably painful, then what would seeing his mate's body controlled by one of his brothers be like? He could only imagine that it would be infinitely worse. He was truly starting to understand why Dean liked to pretend that certain things didn't exist or hadn't happened if he was able to do so. It was an insight into his mate's psyche that he could have lived without ever gaining.  
  
The last glimpse he'd had of his mate was when he'd pulled out of the kiss and even then he'd not been fast enough to avoid seeing Michael put his hands on Dean. It had taken all that Castiel had not to turn on his brother and forcibly prevent him from taking Dean as his vessel. All of his instincts had screamed at him to protect his mate even though he knew, logically, that it was their best and only true course of action. He'd also known that Michael would honor his word and make things as easy as possible on his hunter, but that still hadn't made it easy to allow this to happen.  
  
His emotions were a large, churning miasma inside of him that Castiel had hardly known what to do with. Since raising Dean from Perdition, he'd gotten a lot better at identifying, understanding and controlling his emotions, but what he felt then and even still right now was frightfully overwhelming and he'd just wanted to snatch his mate away to safety and curl up with him until it all went away. Fortunately, or unfortunately, he'd managed to restrain himself long enough for Michael to begin connecting with Dean and from that point on he'd managed not to interfere because he knew that to do so would only serve to risk his mate.  
  
Castiel had clung to that knowledge when he'd imagined he could practically  _taste_  Dean's fear in the air, not that his brother's words or the involuntary little noises his mate had made hadn't been more than enough to confirm those suspicions. The fading of the light cast by his brother's Grace had been a mixed blessing as it meant both an end to his mate's continued consciousness- and thus  _awareness_ \- of what had been happening to him, but it had also meant that he'd been closer to the time when he'd have to turn and face Michael  _inside of_  Dean.  
  
The thought abruptly made Castiel think of when he'd first taken Jimmy as his own vessel. He hadn't truly given the whole process too much thought, he now realized with dismay. Angels required a vessel in order to be able to safely interact with humans on Earth, his own experience with trying to communicate with his charge had already proved that, and therefore he'd needed to take his vessel. Although he'd needed to prove what he was to Jimmy, the whole process had gone relatively smoothly with his vessel accepting his duty quite quickly and he'd not thought any more on the matter, thinking it his due as what he needed to carry out his mission.  
  
He'd simply thought of Jimmy as nothing but yet another tool.  
  
The memory shamed him greatly now but Castiel forced himself to both confront and deal with the emotion and the truth. His actions and intentions back then had truly been no different from those of his brothers and sisters more recently. From those actions and intentions that Dean had scorned and ridiculed and which he himself had come to despise. Was this then to be his punishment for those failings? Was this his Father's way of teaching him a lesson? Or was he being too conceited, to think that this was all about him when it truly wasn't? He wasn't sure anymore.  
  
What Castiel  _was_  sure of though was that he'd treated Jimmy abominably when he took him as his vessel. It was no longer a surprise to him why the man had been so eager to leave Sam and Dean's presence and to go back home again when he'd had the opportunity to do so. At the time it had confused him and he'd felt a mild anger at what he'd perceived was a shirking of his God-given duty, but now he understood the desire. He wished that he didn't have to be in this particular situation in order to have gained that knowledge and appreciation.  
  
In the spirit of not allowing himself to turn a blind eye to his own culpability in past mistakes, Castiel forced himself to think about another decision he now wasn't proud of. The taking of Jimmy's daughter, young Claire Novak, as his vessel. At the time he had thought it necessary as it was the most strategic course of actions to eliminate the threat to Jimmy and his family as well as his charge and Sam. That had been all that he'd deemed important and thus he'd followed through on it without stopping to think about whether or not he  _should_  be taking such a young girl as a vessel. Her blood had been right and thus he'd given it no further thought. Now he was far more aware of the fact that human children weren't able to completely understand matters like adults and hence had no real ability to give their consent in such a manner as his Father required all humans to do.  
  
Jimmy's horrified reaction to witnessing him in his daughter now made sense to Castiel in a way it hadn't back them. Then he'd still viewed the ability to house an angel as an honor on the part of the vessel, not stopping to think how the vessel might feel while being possessed. On most counts, he still didn't truly  _know_  what Jimmy had experienced, but he was now able to look back on his vessel's reactions and emotions at various points and know that it hadn't been pleasant. So to think of his mate undergoing the same was nearly too much, even without the knowledge that for Dean it could only be worse as Michael was an archangel and thus infinitely more powerful then he himself had been back then.  
  
Castiel had sought out Jimmy once after he'd reorganized Heaven, just to make sure that he was happy, but he hadn't taken the time to actually speak with him. He'd thought it best to leave his former vessel to his peace, but now he wondered if he shouldn't perhaps drop by again to speak with him. If for nothing else then to thank him and he could give Jimmy word of his family and let him know that his sacrifice hadn't been in vain. Surely that would be good? Perhaps he should check with Dean first, though, to make sure that it wouldn't be insensitive of him. He was getting better at knowing those things, but he still had a lot to learn about human sensitivities.  
  
He'd been abruptly pulled from his distraction when he'd  _felt_  his brother as if Michael were standing beside him and touching his Grace. It had taken Castiel a moment to realize that the sensation was being transmitted to him over the bond he shared with his mate as it felt so visceral and real, but when he had, he'd felt a cold spike of fear. The bond had been formed such a long time ago now that he often forgot about it as that was simply the way he was connected to Dean. It was extremely special for an angel to be connected in that manner to a human, but it was just the way it was with his mate and it was difficult to imagine it any other way.  
  
The touch to the bond had been a rude reminder and Castiel had felt an ice-cold terror at the mere thought of that connection being severed and it had momentarily paralyzed him. Being the angel whose vessel Dean was, it was entirely within Michael's power to dissolve the bond and there would be nothing that he could do about it save attacking his brother, something which he could never do without hurting his mate at the same time. While it was true that Michael could heal almost any damage inflicted upon his vessel, that was only possible when his brother was fit enough to do so and the whole purpose of attacking Michael would have been to incapacitate the other archangel. So he'd been left in an impossible situation.  
  
Luckily, before Castiel had time to react, his brother had already proven that severing the bond was not what he had planned by coiling his own Grace around it as he'd enveloped Dean's soul. It was an odd sensation that he still wasn't used to and which he knew would take a long while to accustom himself with, though he sincerely hoped that he never had the necessary exposure to do so. Not because he disliked being so aware of a sibling, but rather because he didn't want his brother to be in his mate long enough for him to acquire it. He was still aware of Dean's presence, though it was muted and less immediate than before, but he thought that was more due to his mate's near hibernation-like state at the moment rather then anything Michael was doing. It was just that now, in addition, he was also more aware of his brother then he'd been before. It was an odd sensation.  
  
"Castiel," Michael said again.  
  
Even without the inflexion and intonations that made it truly Dean's speech, Castiel still found himself responding as if it were his mate speaking to him. He could only be thankful that his brother was using his full name rather than the nickname his mate had given him as that would be too much for him to handle at the moment. Knowing it was inevitable, he slowly turned to look at his brother in his new vessel and his breath caught in his throat. Even though he had no real need to breathe, his vessel was accustomed to doing so and it was easier to allow the instinct to continue then to prevent it.  
  
They looked gorgeous. Michael made Dean's body glow with Heavenly light and Grace and it added to his mate's already brilliant countenance. Though his hunter's soul was brighter than that of any human he had ever encountered before, it still paled before the radiance of an angel's Grace and that difference was immediately obvious now. In addition, the massive pairs of wings that now sprouted from Dean's back were a thing of wonder and he found that they looked better in this color than Deirdre's, though he was well aware that could entirely be due to a bias on his part.  
  
The desire to reach out and run his hands through those wings caught Castiel off-guard and he instantly shoved it aside. Although it still looked like his mate's body, at the moment it  _wasn't_  and those wings weren't  _Dean's_ , they were  _Michael's_  even if at the moment they looked like they could belong to his hunter. They just seemed so natural, as if he was always meant to possess them. The thought that this had always been his Father's intention made him uncomfortable, he didn't like the thought that an event he considered among his worst ever had been intended by his Father. The alternative, however, was to think that what they were doing now wasn't His wish and that was by far worse as it meant that his mate had just undergone what he had for nothing.  
  
"Castiel," Michael repeated once more.  
  
Almost instinctively, Castiel looked up at the mention of his name and his eyes met his brother's. It was hard and weird to be looking into his mate's eyes and to not see Dean looking back out at him. They simply stood there for a few long moments and he wasn't sure what to do. He knew that this had been necessary, that far too many lives depended on them for Dean not to have done this, but yet he had to fight down the desire to demand that Michael leave his mate at once. He had to restrain the desire to do something to ensure that this outcome was realized.  
  
When Michael took a step forwards, towards him, Castiel broke the eye contact and stepped back several paces. No, just no. It was far too soon for him to be able to stand close to his brother. He had a hard enough time just seeing and hearing Michael in his mate, he didn't know what he'd do if he could smell Dean so close and see only his brother or, even worse, feel his touch. He needed a distraction, something to force his thoughts elsewhere, onto  _anything_  but Dean as Michael's vessel. He needed...  
  
' _Raphael_ ,' Castiel called with his Grace, wordlessly adding the signal his brother would know meant that he wanted him to come join them.  
  
Almost instantly, Raphael was in the room with them and Castiel knew that his brother had been waiting either for a call or for Michael to return and inform him of what Dean had wanted when he'd called for him. He saw it the moment that Raphael caught sight of Michael as his expression changed from mild to shocked, clearly unable to believe what he saw. Maybe this hadn't been the best distraction after all, but at least he was no longer alone with Michael.  
  
"Michael," Raphael began as he moved closer to him. "You... he said yes?"  
  
"Obviously," Michael replied.  
  
Then Raphael turned to him and Castiel was surprised to realize that his brother was assessing him. After all of the arguments his brother had put forward for why Dean had to say yes, he'd not expected his brother to display this kind of reaction when he'd gotten what he wanted. Yet there it was nonetheless, some sign of concern for how this turn of events was affecting him. He'd much rather that Raphael was showing that kind of emotion and awareness for his mate, but he supposed that it was an improvement even if he didn't think it was enough. Raphael had always been known to be stubborn even as he was loyal, so perhaps for this brother he would need to adjust his expectations. Besides, it meant that if and when they brought him around to what Father obviously wanted them to do, that he'd be able to count on Raphael not being swayed away from that easily.  
  
Though Castiel would rather not think of that type of event, he knew only all too well how many angels Lucifer had taken down with him during his rebellion. It was clear that his fallen brother was more then capable of converting his brothers and sisters to his cause and he shouldn't just expect none of them to be tempted even if he wished he could do so.  
  
"So we begin to collect the necessary ingredients for the Rite of Contressa?" Raphael asked.  
  
"Yes," Michael confirmed. "We need to work quickly if we wish to be able to perform the Rite befo-"  
  
Castiel's head snapped from Raphael to Michael as his brother broke off. His mate's eyes, no  _Michael's_  eyes, were wide with stunned shock and he felt his Grace twist within him in worry.  
  
"What?" Castiel demanded. "What is it? What's wrong?"  
  
"He's stirring," Michael replied in disbelief. "Dean, he is... he is waking."


	62. Chapter 61

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nestled securely inside Michael's Grace, Dean wakes.

**PAST**  
  
  
"You're letting him awaken so soon after claiming him as your vessel?" Raphael asked.  
  
Castiel briefly wondered if his brother was deliberately misinterpreting Michael's words or whether the other alternative was simply too impossible for him to even consider. It was supposed to be after all, impossible that was, but then when had Dean ever done what he was told or expected to do? Or followed the rules?  
  
The thought quickly vanished, though, under the veritable avalanche of new emotions that rushed through Castiel. First and foremost was a nearly overwhelming sense of relief and joy that Dean wasn't going to be forced under for so long as he knew his mate disliked not knowing what was going on or how his body was being used, but it was quickly followed by fear and horror. What would it be like for his hunter to be awake and aware but to be totally unable to do anything? That would just serve to make him feel completely helpless and he didn't want that for Dean. Especially if it would be a constant struggle for his mate as he didn't know if Michael's presence would keep trying to push down on his human's consciousness. The mere thought made him feel something strange in his stomach that he'd never experienced before and that just made him feel worse as he knew that under any other circumstances he would have turned to his mate for clarification.  
  
"No, Brother," Michael replied. "Dean is waking on his own."  
  
"That is not possible," Raphael protested. "The vessel is always suppressed unless you or Lucifer allow them to surface."  
  
"This is new to me as well, but I can clearly feel him stirring within my Grace. It is not the first time he has defied all precedents and expectations."  
  
"Is he alright?" Castiel demanded.  
  
"He is not yet sufficiently awake for me to tell his emotional state. Just give it a few minutes, I would like to see if he can awake fully on his own."  


* * *

 

Consciousness seemed to be flickering in and out as Dean felt the weirdest sense of deja vu as awareness slowly returned to him. That or he'd been floating in one of those freaking half there, half not states that certain drugs seemed to induce in him. A weird ass limbo condition that never failed to freak him the fuck out when he swung towards the more conscious end of the spectrum and realized exactly how out of it he really was. Not that he'd ever been able to wake himself from that kind of condition, but not for lack of trying. Which is what he immediately did now the moment he understood just how unnatural the haze around his mind was.  
  
The decision took far longer to make then Dean would have liked, his mind felt sluggish as if it were working in a thick syrup rather than normal. His responses were also off, different, no  _wrong_ , somehow but he couldn't quite put his finger on how, but it just made him fight all the harder. The initial fear he'd felt was starting to morph into panic, though he tried to fight it off just like his father had always taught him to. Panic didn't help anyone, it merely undermined any self-confidence and made people disillusioned and stupid. Fear, on the other hand, was good as it sharpened the senses and increased both stamina and mental endurance. He'd been able to do many an amazing thing while afraid.  
  
The panic was difficult to fight off, however, as Dean seemed to be totally unable to detect  _anything_  with  _any_  of his senses. Hell, he couldn't even feel what he was lying on! The fear that shot through him then at that realization was borderline panic, but he managed to keep from losing himself to it, but only just. He knew that he should be panting and his heart racing, but that didn't seem to be what was happening. He couldn't quite tell for sure, as the signals he was getting from his body appeared to be hopelessly jumbled, but it seemed like both his breathing and heart rate were normal.  
  
Despite that realization, Dean could feel himself begin to relax. Or was it perhaps because of it? Did feeling his own steady heart rate help him regain control? Well, whatever it was, it seemed to be working and he felt more and more of his faculties begin to return to him. Ironically, it was once he'd calmed down significantly that he suddenly realized that he was  _too_  calm for the circumstances and that it was not a state he'd reached on his own. He was being  _influenced_  into it. He tension levels shot right back up and he could feel a, for now, controlled fear rising within him. Oh yeah, now that he was aware of it, he could  _feel_  the calm and soothing vibes all around him, trying to lull him into a complacent state of being.  
  
Dean hardly even had to think about it; he fought it off with all that he had even though he was still deaf, dumb and blind. The brief question of just  _how_  he was able to sense the external calming influence without any of his senses seeming to work was put aside for later consideration. First things first after all.  
  
"Dean, please, stop struggling," a voice suddenly pleaded.  
  
The fact that it seemed to echo in his head rather than reach him through his ears freaked Dean the hell out, but ultimately only served to confirm his suspicions. Whatever was going on here was supernatural and he absolutely  _hated_  being supernaturally influenced.  
  
He fought all the harder.  
  
"No, no, hush, Little One, I am not going to hurt you."  
  
Little One. The nickname froze Dean in place, he  _knew_  that. He'd heard it before and while it was associated with a vague sense of indignation and annoyance, there was no hatred or malice there on his part, though he could detect something else. It took him a few seconds to work out what. Fear. Before he could react to this new discovery, the world around him brightened all of a sudden and he was forced to slam his eyes shut.  
  
Dean instinctively dropped into a defensive position, but when he was able to open his eyes and glance about, he was surprised to find himself in a motel room.  _His_  motel room, he recognized with a start as the events from the past few hours came rushing back to him. He gasped and dropped to his knees as the last set of memories returned to him, the ones of Michael taking him as his vessel.  
  
"Shh, relax, it is okay, Dean, you are safe."  
  
The voice broke through the memories and Dean tensed as he felt a soothing hand running up and down his back. Turning his head to the left, he found Michael crouched beside him, still inside his aunt. A quick scan- feel?- seemed to show no more supernatural influences being used and he slowly started to relax.  
  
"Michael," Dean acknowledged. "What happened? What went wrong and where's Cas?"  
  
"Nothing went wrong, Little One, I was able to create the connection we needed and I am now inside of you making you now my vessel. You cannot see Castiel here because this is not your real room, it is a representation of it that I recreated as I felt it might help to calm you."  
  
Wait, what? Dean's eyes darted around the room, looking for any proof to back up the archangel's words, but found none. That didn't mean anything, however, as he'd more than a passing experience with the conjuring abilities of angels inside his head. Besides, the evidence all seemed to back Michael up: his memories and what he'd experienced just now. Only...  
  
"How come you still look like my aunt then?" Dean questioned. "If you're in-" No, that just sounds too wrong, especially with what he was doing with Michael's brother. "If I'm your vessel now."  
  
"Because that is how you know me and I thought it best to appear to you as such."  
  
"Oh."  
  
Well, that made sense. Dean knew he wouldn't have calmed nearly so quickly for a complete stranger and not at all if he'd been looking at a clone of himself. Not after that whole nightmare with the African dream root, no pun intended.  
  
"Okay, so we're in my head like a dream right now?"  
  
"Yes," Michael replied, moving back to let him rise.  
  
Dean took a few contemplative steps as he pondered that and tried hard not to freak out. He'd let someone into his body, he'd let an  _archangel_  in and now here he was, cut off from himself and stuck in his own head. It wasn't a place he'd ever really wanted to spend any more time than necessary, especially not since he'd gotten out of Hell. The question was why.  
  
"Did you need something?" Dean asked.  
  
Michael merely looked confused. "No."  
  
"Okay, then why am I here? 'Cause I gotta say, this doesn't quite match up with what Jimmy said being a vessel was like. What happened before," Dean shuddered at the thought and tried not to think about the experience too much. "Now that seemed more like it, but not this."  
  
"That is because this would not have been what Castiel's vessel experienced. James Novak's soul would have been suppressed by Castiel's Grace just like any  _normal_  human soul would be."  
  
Uh oh, Dean could practically hear the italics on the word normal in that sentence and he swallowed hard before shaking his head in denial of what he strongly suspected was coming next. No, it just couldn't be! Why him, dammit? Why did all of this weird shit keep happening to him? He was starting to lose count of all of the instances in which he'd done things that 'normal' humans couldn't. Killing the Whore of Babylon, killing an angel, being able to hear angels' wings and now, apparently, something about being a vessel as well.  
  
"Yes, Dean," Michael confirmed. "You should not be awake and aware right now, not without me having specially roused your soul from its slumber."  
  
"And lemme guess, you didn't?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Fucking brilliant."  
  
Michael frowned though Dean doubted it was because of his profanity, surprisingly that didn't seem to bother angels, at least not the ones that he'd met so far. Blasphemy on the other hand...  
  
"You are not honored."  
  
"You're really great at stating the obvious, you know that, Mike?"  
  
"You should be honored, this is clearly a gift from Father."  
  
Dean snorted. "Maybe I'd appreciate it if I knew what it was for. As it is, with all this shit cropping up all over the place, I just can't help but feeling that there's one big ass shoe out there just waiting to drop and it's not gonna be pretty."  
  
"I do not understand."  
  
"It means that I wanna know what all this is about, what it all means and what it's all  _for_. I mean, it's gotta be for something, right? I wouldn't just be able to do all of this impossible stuff for nothing."  
  
"You are the Righteous Man, Dean, the only one who can end the Apocalypse. All of this, it must be to aid you in achieving that."  
  
It was with an effort that Dean resisted the desire to snort again, he doubted Michael even understood that particular human expression of emotion anyway so why waste the effort? Now that he thought about it and wasn't so concentrated on other, more important things, he felt very tired. That and his movements still didn't quite feel right. Nor did his surroundings for that matter, though they looked normal enough. Beneath the appearance however, there was something else, something alive almost that seemed to be constantly shifting. At first he'd thought it was around them, but from time to time he could almost  _feel_  it doing so against him even if he couldn't see anything.  
  
With a frown, Dean narrowed his eyes at a spot on the wall and tried to... well he wasn't quite sure what it was he was trying to do, but he just went with it. It felt kinda similar to that time he'd gone all astral with Sam and learned how to interact with the physical world with his mind. For a moment he felt kinda stupid doing it, but then the wall he'd been staring at seemed to waver, growing thinner until there was a hole there that was rapidly widening and letting him see through it and beyond. For a moment all he could see was darkness, but then that too seemed to peel away and he was left staring at an intense  _brightness_. A flash of memory had him spinning around to look at the archangel in the room with him.  
  
"Is that your Grace?" Dean demanded.  
  
"Yes. Where do you think you are, Dean? Your soul is currently wrapped in my Grace inside your body."  
  
"Why?"  
  
Michael's head tilted to one side. "To protect it, of course. This way I can ensure that nothing happens to it while you are my vessel."  
  
The words made Dean swallow and he turned to look at the hole in the wall and the Grace beyond it. More and more of his current situation was starting to sink in and he wasn't sure he liked it. So what if he could stay awake and aware while Michael rode around in his meatsuit? That didn't mean much if he was stuck here, completely unable to do anything.  
  
"So now what? I assume you can't be both here and out there at the same time, right?"  
  
"It is not so much that I am in two places at once as focusing on two things at the same time," Michael clarified. "I am still in you. Picture it like thinking deeply about something while still interacting with those around you."  
  
"Okay, so you're all set then. What am I supposed to do? Just sit here and entertain myself? 'Cause I gotta say, I'm not really very good at that and am liable to get myself into trouble." There was a ripple of  _something_  along his... his soul? Whatever it was, there was something there that made him shiver as the corners of Michael's mouth curved upwards slightly. "What the hell was that?"  
  
"What was what?"  
  
"That... that... feeling just then."  
  
Michael's eyes narrowed and then the light coming through the hole in the wall pulsed and Dean jumped as it happened again, whatever the fuck it was.  
  
"Interesting."  
  
"Michael."  
  
"That was me you felt, my Grace and potentially some of my emotions."  
  
Dean blinked at that. "What?"  
  
"Though I suppose it makes sense that the connection would go both ways, given how closely bonded we are right now."  
  
"Both ways? Wait, you can sense stuff from me?"  
  
"Only your stronger emotions, not everything you feel."  
  
"Well isn't that just dandy."  
  
"This is as new to me as it is to you, Dean. I have never shared this kind of connection with a vessel before, but it does make me wonder."  
  
"What?" Dean asked as Michael moved closer until they were standing only a few inches apart.  
  
"In my other vessels, if I bring them awake, I am able to forge a link between their souls and bodies. It is not the one that normally exists as that has to be suppressed when I am in them, but it does allow them to experience the outside world."  
  
The words instantly made Dean perk up. "Are you saying I'd be able to see and hear what's going on?"  
  
"If it works, yes. I have never done this before on a soul that I did not wake myself, but I would like to try if you will permit me to."  
  
"Hell yes!"  
  
"You will need to relax and not fight me."  
  
Okay, that might be a bit harder to achieve, especially with what had happened before (no, he wasn't going to think about that now!), but Dean was determined to do it. If he had to choose between some more pain and being stuck in limbo here until Michael and the others managed to do what was necessary, then he'd definitely take the pain any day of the week.  
  
"Go for it."


	63. Chapter 62

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Michael try to work out what this unprecedented situation means for them.

**PAST**  
  
  
Dean guessed that Michael reached up to brush fingers against his forehead only so that he'd have a warning that it was coming and he was grateful for it. If he'd thought the sensations earlier were weird, they were nothing compared to this. He felt something  _shift_  against him as there was a flare of the Grace light spilling into the room. He then flinched as he felt a touch  _inside_  of him and he tried to curl himself away from it. Even doing that, it was a struggle not to lash out at the archangel. Logically, he knew what was going on and why, but that didn't help much, not when he felt a foreign presence  _there_.  
  
Although Dean knew that technically all of this was already happening inside of him- freaky as that was- this felt far more  _intimate_  somehow. He could only assume that it was because now Michael was actively trying to do something to his very soul instead of merely his meatsuit. The fact that the last time the archangel had touched his soul he'd been sent straight into oblivion didn't help matters either. And God, if his father (or even his younger self) could hear him now, thinking about the difference between a touch to the body and a touch to the soul, he knew they'd instantly try and exorcise him. Hell, probably all of the hunters he'd ever known would have done that with the exception of Sam and Pastor Jim.  
  
Just the thought of Pastor Jim sent a quick flare of pain through Dean. He'd tried not to think too much about him and Caleb after what had happened to them, but that hadn't really worked too well. The fact that they were in the middle of dealing with the Apocalypse sure didn't help matters any as he just knew how big of an assent Pastor Jim would have been. And, while at first he'd been glad that their old friend hadn't been there to see what a joke angels really were when compared to all of the lore on them, he now thought that Pastor Jim would have enjoyed knowing at least a few angels. Oh, who was he kidding, the man would have been over the moon to met those angels that were actually angelic (well at least some of the time anyway). That never failed to elicit a swell of sadness from deep within him.  
  
There was another shift of Grace against him that sent Dean instinctively back, defences going up.  
  
"Dean."  
  
"I'm trying!" Dean protested. "It's not exactly easy. This isn't like anything I've ever done before, just give me a moment."  
  
With an effort, Dean pushed all other thoughts and distractions from his mind and concentrated on calming himself. Although he didn't need to breathe here, he took several deep breaths, focusing on the concentration exercises that Dad had taught him all those years ago. Slowly he felt himself begin to relax and he wondered absently how he could still almost feel like he had a meatsuit even when he wasn't really getting any input from it. When he'd been in Hell, Alastair had said something about souls basically recreating their own body as that was what they were used to and visualized themselves as. Unfortunately, it had made painful sense at the time and still did in a lot of ways. Soul body aside, though, he was more than ready to reconnect with his real one.  
  
Since he was as relaxed as he figured he'd get, Dean nodded at the archangel. "Try now."  
  
This time when the touch came, Dean still flinched, but he managed to keep himself from either withdrawing or attacking it. The cool, foreign presence slid inside without any of the sparks he'd felt earlier and he wondered if that was because he'd gotten used to it or because Michael had completed that connection he'd talked about earlier. He remained tense, but found that he was calming fractionally when nothing bad happened immediately.  
  
"Michael?"  
  
"Just a moment more, Little One."  
  
Dean scowled, now that he wasn't as distracted as earlier- and was actually  _looking_  for something to distract himself with- he latched onto the odd new nickname. "Dude, don't call me that."  
  
He felt a ripple of what felt distinctly like amusement coming from Michael.  
  
"As I recall, my requesting you to cease addressing me as either Mikey or Mike was countered by your desire to call me that regardless of my wishes. Why should I act any differently now?"  
  
Okay that was so not cool. Dean's scowl grew as he remembered all of the times he'd said some variant of that to the archangel. He could also easily recall how smug he'd been then. That just figured.  
  
"I'm not little," Dean replied petulantly.  
  
Michael, the bastard, actually laughed at that. "Dean, I am older then you can possibly comprehend. I was created before Time itself and was the First, to me you are hopelessly young."  
  
"Yeah, well not for a human I'm not. In fact, in human years I've already lived about as long as the average American man, what with those forty years downstairs."  
  
There was a flicker of something from Michael at those words, but it was gone so fast that Dean wasn't able to decipher what it was. Then, before he could pursue it, something seemed to click into place and suddenly the room they were in vanished to be replaced with the actual room as it was now, as evidenced by the presence of both Castiel and Raphael. The rush of emotions that came over him at that was too much for him and instead he clung to the sight of his lover. The angel looked as wrecked as he'd ever seen him and he felt pain knowing that he'd been the cause of that even if they'd agreed together that this was their best and only real course of action.  
  
"There," Michael said.  
  
Or at least it had to be Michael as he hadn't done it and yet Dean could feel his mouth and tongue move and it definitely sounded like his voice, even if it was  _wrong_. Like hearing a recording of himself, only worse. He swallowed thickly and tried not to panic at his first real experience with what it felt like to be trapped- or no, more like  _stuck_ \- in his own head, being unable to do anything but watch as a foreign entity controlled his meatsuit and interacted with those he loved.  
  
"Dean is now fully conscious and as connected with his body as he can be while he is still my vessel."  
  
Castiel's head snapped up at those words, an astonished yet hopeful expression on his face.  
  
"Really?" Raphael demanded.  
  
"Yes," Michael confirmed.  
  
"Will you be able to maintain that connection?"  
  
"I do not even have to expend any Grace for it at the moment, as long as that remains true, Dean should be able to experience everything he wants to."  
  
Wants to? What? " _Eh, Mike, what do you mean with that last?_ " Dean asked.  
  
The world tilted as the archangel moved his head into that position he'd witnessed so often from both Michael and Castiel. Huh, so this is what it was like to be on the other side of that. He wondered what he looked like doing it and almost wished that he could see it.  
  
" _Exactly what I said,_ " Michael replied, only now his voice was the same as that which Dean had heard while the archangel had been claiming him. It was his true voice, he realized and was spoken into his mind instead of aloud. " _If you do not wish to experience what is going on around us, you can pull back into your mind and create whatever surroundings you wish for yourself as I did for you before._ "  
  
" _Oh. Cool._ "  
  
Not that Dean expected he'd want to make much use of that particular ability, but it was kinda cool nonetheless. It almost felt like he suddenly possessed some kind of superpower or something. He determinedly refused to think of how similar it could be to the abilities he'd gained in Hell after coming off of the rack. Just because he'd essentially been nothing more than a soul back then too was irrelevant to the present. Like totally and completely irrelevant. End of discussion, dammit.  
  
"Is Dean well?" Castiel finally demanded, stepping closer. "He is not in pain or strained from managing to awake on his own?"  
  
"No, he is well, Brother," Michael replied but Castiel looked worried regardless.  
  
" _Tell him I'm fine,_ " Dean said.  
  
"Dean says to tell you that he is fine."  
  
Tension drained from Castiel's body and relief was evident in his eyes and Dean couldn't help but feel guilty once more for having put all of that worry there in the first place.  
  
"In my experience, Dean is rarely well when he claims to be fine," Castiel stated.  
  
Dean's eyes narrowed. " _Bastard._ "  
  
Michael frowned. "Why does he feel the need to insinuate untruths at that statement?"  
  
If the words hadn't served to further relax his lover, Dean would have been annoyed at being tattled on, even if in doing so Michael had effectively communicated for him.  
  
"He is human," Castiel replied as if that explained everything.  
  
Okay, when this was done, Dean was gonna have a serious talk with his lover. His angel was starting to get just a little too good of a grasp on sarcasm and various other human quirks of communication. The fact that Castiel's nonchalance and words served to confuse Michael did entertain him though.  
  
" _You may be old, Mike, but you've still got a lot to learn, my young Padawan._ "  
  
" _I do not understand that._ "  
  
" _No shit, Sherlock,_ " Dean couldn't help it, sometimes it was just far too easy to bait the archangel.  
  
And okay, that flicker he'd just felt was a hint of annoyance, but it didn't seem too bad so Dean wasn't worried. What had Michael expected anyway? He wasn't gonna change just because he'd said yes, he was Dean Winchester after all and had a reputation to maintain! Plus the fact that he was hopelessly outclassed when it came to the abilities and power department given his present company just meant that he had to try all the harder in other areas.  
  
"He can be exceedingly irritating when he chooses to be," Michael declared.  
  
" _Hey!_ "  
  
"Only when he liked or hates you," Castiel responded.  
  
"I am glad that he is your vessel, Michael," Raphael stated. "And not mine."  
  
"As always, you are lacking in compassion and empathy, Brother," Michael answered.  
  
"Shall we commence gathering the ingredients for the Rite of Contressa?"  
  
"I would like some more time with Dean first. I am still weakened from the transition and feel it would be better to acquaint myself with how having Dean as a vessel differs from my previous ones." Castiel tensed a little at those words, but Michael preempted his concerns. "Hush, Brother, all is fine, but it is different."  
  
"What do you want us to do?" Castiel inquired.  
  
"If you could give us a little time to focus, I think it would be best. I shall call you when we are ready to begin collecting the ingredients."  
  
"I shall go check on Lucifer's cage and continue our search for any trace of Simiel," Raphael stated before he vanished in a flutter of wings.  
  
Castiel, however, seemed to hesitate and Dean felt torn between understanding that his lover didn't want to leave but also wanting him to do so. As long as Cas was there, most of his attention would be focused on his angel and that made it harder to come to grips with what had happened to him and what he now was. It also made talking with Michael difficult as they could be interrupted at any moment as Castiel wouldn't know that they were speaking with each other.  
  
"Castiel, Brother, your mate is well and he will remain as such for the short while that I require to recuperate," Michael assured. "Use the opportunity to check on your duties in Heaven so that you are not called away when we are ready to begin collecting the ingredients."  
  
With apparent reluctance, Castiel nodded his head though he still seemed to hesitate. "Dean..."  
  
A moment later, his lover was gone, but Dean understood the sentiment perfectly. Usually they were alone at times like these and now that they weren't, it made things awkward.  
  
"So, now what?" Dean questioned to pull his mind away from that.  
  
"I want you to withdraw yourself from your body back into your mind as you were before."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Once you know how to perform this, you will be able to do it easily whenever you wish to do so."  
  
"Okay, what do I do?"  
  
"Imagine yourself withdrawing, it should be enough."  
  
Dean found that it came to him surprisingly easy as it was a lot like how he used the Jewel of Abel, just a matter of picturing things right. For a moment he was simply suspended in the embrace of the Grace light before the motel room started to materialize around him.  
  
"Dude, I'm awesome!"  
  
"It is indeed impressive," Michael agreed, appearing beside him as Deirdre once more. "Though it does not necessarily need to be this room if you do not want it to be."  
  
"Nah, this is good for now. So, how drained are you right now?"  
  
"Enough to take the time to recuperate."  
  
"Will it always be that bad?"  
  
"I am unsure, but I do not believe so. The connection has been formed between us now, but it would still be wise for me to retake you a little before we wish to perform the Rite."  
  
"Okay."  
  
Then, suddenly, Michael's focus shifted and Dean could feel- literally  _feel_ \- him rifling through what he was pretty sure were his memories like they were files in some damn filing cabinet somewhere. At least that's what it felt like anyway from the snippets of scenes past that seemed to flash before his eyes.  
  
"Dude, what are you doing? What the hell are you looking for?" Dean demanded, the sensation sending a shudder through him.  
  
"Looking for what you do with my little brother," Michael explained, frowning as he tried to narrow the memories down.  
  
" _What?_ " Dean thundered, surprise rapidly morphing into anger.  
  
Michael looked up, startled at the abrupt churn of emotions. "Castiel is always speaking of you and you sometimes evade the truth on the matter. I wish to see what it is that has you so emotional and what ruffles Castiel's feathers when Raphael pries."  
  
"You goddamn bastard!" Dean roared.  
  
Furious, he rushed at the archangel though he distantly knew he couldn't do Michael any harm, not here in the... what realm were they in anyway? His subconscious? Despite that, Dean continued on anyway. No way was he going to let the bastard go poking his sticky fingers  _there_  of all places. That was private. It was  _his_ , dammit! It was Cas and him and no one else.  
  
"Dean, calm down," Michael urged.  
  
The room around them vanished and Dean was suddenly back in that place, that strange void that was simultaneous nothing and everything. Once again he was aware of that something else, that gentle soothing sensation that seemed to be seeping in from somewhere, trying to wrap itself around him in its cradling warmth.  
  
"No!" Dean cried out, his struggles turning desperate. "Stop that!"  
  
He should have known better than to say yes to Michael; than to let him in.  
  
Goddamn, fucking bastard!  
  
Abruptly the sensation was gone, but Dean continued to struggle against the darkness like a wild animal, futilely but from the heart.  
  
"Dean, Little One, please," Michael was suddenly there again before him. "Stop, please, stop."  
  
Unable to budge, Dean slowly ceased his struggling, choosing instead to glare at the archangel. To think he'd thought he could trust the bastard! How wrong he'd been. The anger and betrayal bubbled up within him, mixing with the desperation he'd felt earlier and... and the fear. He wanted to be able to ignore the latter, to shove it aside and pretend it didn't exist, but he couldn't. Not when he'd said yes to Michael, not when the bastard could do whatever he wanted with his meatsuit and he was helpless to stop him.  
  
Not when he could turn on Cas and use him to do so.


	64. Chapter 63

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth behind Michael's actions and Dean's reaction.

**PAST**  
  
  
"You think I would-" Michael began, breaking off to pace.  
  
It was such a human reaction that it gave Dean pause. It looked like Castiel hadn't been the only one that he'd been a bad influence on.  
  
"Dean, I would not hurt my brother."  
  
Dean snorted. "Yeah, like I've never seen an angel do that before."  
  
"Not Castiel, not now. You and I are both aware that I have made mistakes in the past, and ones of some significance, but I can see that now. Father made it very clear who had strayed and who had done well. I would never do anything to intentionally harm Castiel. Even then I had no desire to do so."  
  
"Yeah, right."  
  
"No, I have never wished to harm any of my siblings, Dean," Michael's voice brokered no room for disagreement and Dean found himself believing the archangel despite his remaining anger. "There are times that I regret and wish could have gone differently, where I have been forced to take the life of one of my brothers or sisters, but I have always done what I could to prevent this."  
  
"And what did you think of Cas? Zachariah clearly wanted him dead."  
  
"Zachariah assumed much and did much to disgrace our kind. I can only hope that you will one day come to see that he and Lucifer are the exception rather than the rule. As for Castiel, I assumed him mislead and wished to save him from falling. I wished to save him."  
  
Anger rose within Dean. "Anna was 'saved' by your kind and you still had to kill her."  
  
"Anael was one of Zachariah's greater trespasses and one for which I wish he could have been held accountable before our Father."  
  
"You really mean that," Dean realized in wonder.  
  
"Yes," Michael confirmed before he frowned. "I gave you my word earlier, before you said yes, that I would not harm your mate. Do you not trust me?"  
  
The flicker of hurt that accompanied those words caught Dean off-guard. Not only was it completely unexpected, but it was stronger than any of the emotions he'd picked up from the archangel so far. Did that mean that they were getting closer or was there another cause for it? There was so much about being a vessel that he simply didn't know, but he suspected that even if Jimmy had still been alive and he'd been able to speak with him before saying yes that he'd still be in completely unfamiliar territory. It was quite clear that this was unlike anything that Michael had ever heard of before, so he sincerely doubted that Jimmy's limited recollections of having hosted Castiel would be of much use to him.  
  
Dean scowled. "Dude, do you think I would have said yes if I mistrusted you?"  
  
"Then why did you react so violently and irrationally just now?"  
  
"I- I thought you were-"  
  
"Breaking my vow?"  
  
Dean looked down and clenched his jaw. "Yes."  
  
"How is that trust?"  
  
"I never said it would be blind trust!"  
  
Michael stared at him steadily and Dean was forced to look away shortly after meeting the archangel's eyes. Although Castiel's eyes could easily betray his age, his older brother's did so infinitely more. He wasn't exactly sure what the age difference there was, or if they even thought of it in those terms, but it felt like it was enormous. Or was that merely the result of the massive power difference between his lover and Michael? He didn't think Castiel's gaze had changed all that much since he'd been promoted, but that could simply be because he'd already been so familiar with his angel that he'd simply never been affected by it.  
  
Much as Dean hated to admit it, though, Michael did have a point. What kind of trust was that? Sure, he could fall back on the fact that every single angel but Castiel had done nothing but try and use him in some way or another and that even his lover had betrayed his trust at one point, but he knew it wasn't that. If he'd been worried about that, then he would have thought about it before, when he and Castiel had been discussing their options and it would have colored his final decision. The fact that it hadn't just proved that he was merely trying to use it as an excuse now. It was a wonderful excuse, though, and one he wanted to do nothing more with then to clutch tight and wrap himself up in. His present situation, however, made that impossible.  
  
He wasn't sure when exactly it had happened, but Dean knew that somewhere along the line he'd started tackling things more head on then he was used to and he had a growing suspicion that it was all Castiel's fault. The sneaky little bastard had wormed his way in past his shields and started transforming him in more ways than those immediately obvious. The fact that others might call it a healthy change only made him scowl all the more. He didn't do healthy, dammit. He did dangerous and risky and brave and insane and that which normal, healthy people considered impossible. Damnit, he did.  
  
Just like he didn't do fruit or cuddling or talking about his feelings or... yeah, he was so whipped.  
  
The thought made Dean laugh and he was surprised at how honest it was, not at all like the bitterness he would have once expected to accompany that realization. So, if his reaction hadn't been fueled by an explicit distrust in angels, then what had it been fueled by? What had made him so instantly convinced that Michael had tricked him and was planning to do the worst with the power that he'd gained over him and, by extension, Castiel?  
  
The answer came to him in a surprisingly vivid flashback of what was without a doubt the worst fight that he and Sam had ever experienced. The memory started with Ruby present, but quickly it was just him and his little brother. And the blows. God, even then he'd been unable to hit the bastard as hard as he truly deserved but his precious Sammy, however, had clearly not been so conflicted. He could only all too clearly remember the pain of being bodily thrown through that wooden latticework and smashing through the glass table. Not to mention exactly what it had felt like when his brother had seated himself on top of him and started to choke him.  
  
The memory then changed, morphing into the room where he'd watched Sam spew venom about him to their grandfather and he'd had Castiel's words irrevocably confirmed. His little brother had gotten out of Hell and had deliberately left him in the dark about that, leaving him to the tender mercies of his nightmares and memories as if his emotional well being wasn't even of the slightest concern or interest to Sam.  
  
_"Look," Sam sighed. "I know you've met Dean, but you don't really know him. Trust me on this, it's better that he doesn't know that I'm back. Bobby, that friend I mentioned before who knows both of us really well, agrees with me on this."_  
  
"Dean."  
  
His name was spoken from right beside him, from where Castiel should have stood, but it definitely wasn't his lover's voice and Dean's head snapped to the side. Michael stood there, though it hadn't been Deirdre's voice he'd used to address him. In the blink of an eye, the scene around them vanished and they were back in the darkness where they'd been only moments before. The sudden release made him close his eyes for a moment, the emotional turmoil within him slowly settling, and seriously, he was more than ready for it to stop completely now. He'd gone through more emotions in the last few hours than he normally did in a year. It just didn't seem to stop though.  
  
When Dean finally managed to look up again, he was stunned to see compassion and understanding in Michael's eyes. "You saw that."  
  
"Yes. You were projecting it outwards, I am sorry."  
  
"Not your fault."  
  
"No, but it makes your inability to truly trust far more understandable."  
  
Dean swallowed as he remembered that Michael, of all people, could really understand what he felt when it came to Sam's betrayals as he'd been there himself. It was odd to think of an archangel- of one of Heaven's most terrifying weapons as Castiel had once called them- as being that vulnerable. And, God, to think that not only had he left one of them inside of himself, but he was  _sleeping_  with another. He absently wondered what his lover now thought of being the very thing he'd described so reverentially and yet so fearfully.  
  
"Still, I'm sorry, you deserved better than that," Dean said, feeling the odd need to insist on that point.  
  
"You are forgiven."  
  
"What? Just like that? You need to learn to milk things more."  
  
"Why? You are sincere in your apology and I have come to like you," Michael admitted. "You are strong, righteous, loyal, sarcastic, biting and, despite all you have seen, you still care. It would have been so easy for you to give up, but you did not. Somehow you found a strength within you that most humans do not possess and you managed to prosper, despite all the odds and everything that both Heaven and Hell placed in your path. I can only regret that I made all of that harder for you and hope that you can one day forgive me."  
  
He could only stare at the archangel in shock, mouth hanging open despite his best efforts to close it. "Michael, I-" Dean began, not quite sure what to say.  
  
"I also hope that you will one day see all of this. Castiel is right, you have no idea of your own worth."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Castiel merely pointed informed me that you are entirely unaware of how precious and special you are."  
  
Michael was right in front of him now, completely in his personal space- and seriously? even in his mind?-, his hand on Dean's face. It was an eerie reminder of that day, months ago, when Michael had first confessed his growing fascination with him as well as the scene right before he'd been taken as a vessel.  
  
When Dean finally snapped out of his trance, he jerked backwards and found he had to swallow thickly before he could talk. "Dude! Personal space, man."  
  
"Personal space?" Michael inquired, head tilting.  
  
Dean was just groaning when the expression on the archangel's face changed, comprehension dawning as Dean could feel a... a slight tug at the edge of his mind.  
  
"I see," Michael took a few steps back. "My apologies."  
  
The last two words were spoken so like how Castiel had always said for this exact same issue that it startled a laugh out of Dean. "Yeah, I'll bet."  
  
"It is not a concept that we are familiar with."  
  
"No really?" Dean rolled his eyes. "Look, I get that okay? I've known Cas long enough to understand that, but what you need to understand is that I'm human and privacy is a big thing for us lowly humans."  
  
"You are not lowly. I may have cursed you before, but now I can only thank Father for choosing you as my vessel."  
  
"What?" The seemingly abrupt change of topic threw Dean for a loop.  
  
"I have learned much from both you and Castiel in very little time," Michael explained simply. "Though it frustrated me greatly before, I now admire your spirit and am honored to have you as my vessel."  
  
"Eh..." What the hell did one say to that? Dean had no clue and all of his previous thoughts had been derailed by the declaration.  
  
"I am sorry that I upset and frightened you and if you could tell me what I did wrong, I shall endeavour not to do it again."  
  
"You didn't frighten me!" Dean shot back, finally finding something he could comfortably react to.  
  
Michael laughed softly, a familiar expression of fondness and amusement settling over his feature. "No, of course not."  
  
Dean scowled, well aware he was being placated, but somehow not minding as much as he thought he should. This was familiar, comfortable. They'd done this a dozen times in countless motels rooms across the country during the months they'd slowly gotten to know each.  
  
"As for what you did wrong, you poked your nose where it didn't belong."  
  
"I do not understand."  
  
"My memories of Cas and I," Dean explained. "They're mine and you have no right to just dig them out because you want to see them."  
  
"Angels share everything."  
  
"Yeah, well, humans don't. Especially not this stuff, things between, eh-"  
  
"Mates?"  
  
"Mates, lovers, whatever. That's between the two people involved. Besides..."  
  
"Besides?"  
  
"He's all I have left," Dean whispered brokenly.  
  
"No, he is not, you have myself and Raphael as well as all of Heaven on your side," Michael countered.  
  
Dean snorted. "That's not- you know what, never mind."  
  
This was already far too much of a chick flick moment for his comfort and it was better to shut it down right the hell now.  
  
There was that tugging sensation at the edge of his awareness again and comprehension flooded Michael's face. "I see."  
  
"Dude, stop doing that!"  
  
"Dean, I promise that I will not go sifting through your memories on purpose," Michael said. "However we are now connected as angel and vessel and that implies a certain amount of information sharing even under normal circumstances. I can only guess that it will be greater in our case as your consciousness will take in and react to what is going on around us."  
  
"Fuck. How much?"  
  
"I honestly do not know, Dean. This is as new to me as it is to you. What I can tell you is that what I am getting now are not memories, but rather thoughts and impressions. Like concepts. I now have an idea of what personal space means to you even though angels have nothing even remotely like it."  
  
"Yeah? So what about privacy?"  
  
"That is harder."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"It is more alien to me."  
  
"That figures."  
  
"Angels do not hide things from each other, we share everything and hear our brothers and sisters in our heads. Despite that, I will respect your wishes on the matter and leave this alone."  
  
"Thanks for that."  
  
"This is starting to make some of Castiel's recent behavior more clear."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I could not understand some of what he did around you or how he would react if Raphael or I said certain things. I now believe that he was reacting based on this concept. He felt... protective of you in a manner that Raphael and I could not hope to understand."  
  
Dean felt a wave of warmth and love at those words. He'd always known that starting a relationship with Castiel would have unusual complications, not the least of which was that he just didn't know how angels experienced emotion, but it felt good to know that Cas felt protective of him in that way. It was something he could definitely relate to as it was a very human reaction.  
  
"You are happy with this knowledge."  
  
It was a statement as Michael could clearly detect some of what he felt, but it was also laced with confusion and a lack of understanding.  
  
"Yeah, it shows that he cares."  
  
Michael nodded, though Dean knew he didn't really get it. "Humans are strange."  
  
The statement startled a laugh out of Dean and he was surprised at how much lighter he felt all of a sudden. This was far more like the tentative relationship they'd slowly built up and it calmed him. "Right back at ya."


	65. Chapter 64

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael shows Dean some of the perks of being a vessel.

**PAST**  
  
  
The darkness around them was lightening and Dean wondered if that was due to his mood. He preferred the Grace light even if it was really alien as it was soothing in some odd way. It was as he relaxed that he thought of something else.  
  
"Hey, wait a minute," Dean said. "You didn't like seeing Gabriel's DVD."  
  
The shudder that Dean felt around him was more than enough to confirm his words even without the horror and disgust that leaked through as well.  
  
"Is there a reason you are bringing this up now?" Michael asked.  
  
"Yeah, if you hated that, then why were you trying to look at my memories of Cas and me?"  
  
"You think  _that_  is what I was looking for?"  
  
"Well, what else would you want to see?"  
  
Michael looked at him fondly. "So human."  
  
"Damn right I am."  
  
"I wanted to see how you are with your mate, when you are alone together."  
  
"The chick flick stuff," Dean snorted. "Well that figures. I guess you guys need to be like the popular human image of angels in at least one way."  
  
"You are embarrassed," Michael stated, head tilted. "Why are you embarrassed?"  
  
"'Cause guys don't talk about that stuff, well not unless they're little bitches like Sam anyway."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Just 'cause."  
  
"I do not understand. You care for him, you have made that abundantly clear already, so why do you continue to deny it?"  
  
"Dude, knock it off."  
  
The fact that Dean couldn't even make himself sound properly annoyed bothered him somewhat. He was letting Michael get away with far too much just now. It was probably due to the subject matter. Even though he'd never really admitted his feelings for Castiel to anyone else, just thinking about them and his lover in general, made it very difficult to feel any kind of negative emotions. Still, it wasn't something he felt comfortable discussing just yet and especially not with Castiel's big brother of all people. The thought did make him frown though as he took stock of what he'd felt of his body before. Or rather of what he  _hadn't_  felt. Wanting to be sure he'd gotten it right, he concentrated on reconnecting with his meatsuit and felt a weird shift before he could suddenly see the room again as well as hear and smell everything that went with it.  
  
"Mike, did you change anything when you took control?"  
  
"I healed a few minor injuries."  
  
Of course he did. Dean should have known that the archangel wouldn't be able to differentiate between a true injury and a hickey or the welcome burn from fantastic sex.  
  
"Was that wrong?"  
  
"No, not really. So, were my arteries and liver really that bad?"  
  
"I have not yet had a chance to look at that. You started stirring before I could get to it."  
  
"Oh, okay."  
  
"It does remind me of something else. Are you ready for the next step? You seem to have adjusted to being an aware vessel very well so far."  
  
"If you consider my freak out 'well' then sure," Dean replied. "What next bit?"  
  
"Angelic senses. You know that we are able to see each other's wings and, to a certain extent, each other even within a vessel and yet you could see neither earlier with Raphael and your mate."  
  
"You've been toning it down?"  
  
Dean couldn't help the shiver that went through him at the thought of finally getting to see his lover's wings. It was something he'd wanted for so long now that it seemed unreal that he'd actually be able to do so now.  
  
"Yes, I did not wish to overwhelm you all at once."  
  
"Thanks for that."  
  
"Are you ready then?"  
  
"Huh? They're not here right now."  
  
"No, but that is not the only thing that will change."  
  
"Oh, okay, hit me with it."  
  
There was a brief moment of confusion where Dean realized that his word choice didn't make sense to the archangel, before Michael released his hold on his power or whatever he'd done to suppress his senses. The room seemed to shimmer before his eyes for a moment before everything seemed to become sharper and, not quite brighter, but it was the closest word he had for what happened. Suddenly he could see every last fiber in the carpet and make out the dust particles themselves floating in the air. The clarity startled him and made him wonder how Castiel could find anything so fascinating and wonderful if he could detect every last flaw in it so effortlessly.  
  
In addition to the change in his sight, there were similar changes to his hearing and sense of smell. He could hear people moving about and talking in the rooms on either side of his as well as outside in the parking lot. The smells that assaulted him made him wish he could sneeze. There were bleach and chlorine, musk, sweat, sex and various compounds he didn't want to identify, but the strongest smell was that of himself and his deodorant and antiperspirant. Given his job, he needed a pretty powerful one and its scent was quite distinctive.  
  
"Crap that's weird," Dean finally said when he'd sorted through everything.  
  
"I can empathize with the sentiment," Michael stated, bringing his hand up and looking at it before closing the fingers into a fist. "Having you as my vessel is unlike anything I have ever experienced before."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"You fit in a way none of the others have. There is actually enough room for my Grace to move instead of being squeezed into far too small of a receptacle."  
  
"Oh, glad I could help."  
  
"Do you want to see yourself now?"  
  
"See myself?" Dean asked before he started. "Wait, I've got wings now with you here, don't I?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Yes, lemme see."  
  
Obligingly, Michael moved to stand before the large mirror hanging above the room's single chest of drawers. Dean's breath caught in his throat- or rather it seemed like it did anyway- as he caught sight of their reflection. Arching out from his back were multiple pairs of large wings. He couldn't quite tell how many there were, but he remembered Zachariah boasting that he had six pairs so it made sense that archangels had more. The size of some of them, though, made what he'd seen of Castiel's back in the barn seem small. They moved as he watched and it took him a moment to realize that Michael was preening.  
  
"Dude!" Dean laughed. "Enjoying yourself?"  
  
"It is not often we can show our wings to a human."  
  
"Cas said something about them being special and that you don't let people touch them."  
  
"They are, but you are my vessel," Michael replied. "Do you want to know what they feel like?"  
  
"Sure. How?"  
  
Instead of replying, Michael bent one of the wings so that it wrapped around them and the tip was stretched out before them. The archangel then reached up to touch it and Dean was startled at how soft the feathers felt. He'd expected them to be harsher, more like birds' feathers, but he should have realized that angels wouldn't follow the normal rules. What really surprised him, though, was the fact that he could feel the touch of his hand on the wing. It took him a moment to work out that was what he felt, but he could definitely feel it. It sent a little shiver through him even as it boggled his mind.  
  
"Why are they this light brown color?" Dean inquired. "What I saw of Cas' was black."  
  
"That is because Castiel's vessel has black hair."  
  
Dean's eyebrows shot up in surprise, or well they would have if he'd had control of a meatsuit at that particular moment. "The vessel determines the color of the wings?"  
  
"The vessel determines the appearance of their semi-physical manifestation. Remember, we are more like light or energy in our true form than anything else."  
  
That made sense and now that Dean looked, he could see the variation in the feather color that matched his hair with hints of blond and bronze along with the pale brown. Huh.  
  
"So I take it Raphael's are black too?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Slowly Dean's attention wandered from the reflection of the wings to that of his actual meatsuit. It was a bit of a shock to see his own face and body held in such a stiff and, to him, unnatural posture. It was instant, visual confirmation that he wasn't the one in control right now. Beyond that, however, his attention was captured by the  _glow_. He almost looked like a fucking firefly.  
  
"You're bright," Dean stated.  
  
"I am only responsible for part of that. The rest of it is from the light of your soul."  
  
"Very funny." He could feel Michael frowning and glanced up at the mirror to confirm it. "What?"  
  
"Castiel had mentioned your lack of faith in the state of your soul, but I found it so hard to believe."  
  
"Michael."  
  
"You have the brightest soul I have ever seen before. If you will permit me, I shall show you."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I should be able to project my memories to you as you have done to me earlier."  
  
"Sure."  
  
Dean wasn't sure he believed it, but it didn't hurt to let Michael try. He was suddenly back in the dark again before a familiar scene formed around them. It was from one of the archangel's visits a few weeks ago. He ignored their surroundings and the conversation in favor of staring himself. Although the glow wasn't nearly as bright, it was still clearly there like he was some kind of light.  
  
"Really?" Dean finally questioned. "This is for real?"  
  
"Yes, Little One."  
  
The nickname drew another scowl from Dean but his heart wasn't in it. Did he really look like that to an angel? "What do other people look like?"  
  
"That depends on the person, With some it is impossible to even see their soul, but with others there are flashes of it at times."  
  
The world around them changed once more and Dean found that he much preferred this to travel by Angel Air as he got to stay right where he was. The new scene was unfamiliar to him, but it was outside somewhere near a park and there were a lot of people walking about. Because this was one of Michael's memories, he had no choice but to look where the archangel had looked, but he still saw plenty of people. Helpfully, Michael's eyes had also followed those with brighter souls. He swallowed as he realized exactly how much brighter he seemed to shine compared to even the brightest soul he saw here.  
  
"This is a normal selection of what you see?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
The thought of his own soul being like that made him more than a little uncomfortable. What had he ever done to deserve that? He really couldn't think of anything while he could easily think of plenty of things he'd done to not deserve it. Someone obviously disagreed with him though. He now had irrevocable proof of that, or at least it seemed like he did.  
  
"Are brighter souls really so different from the others?"  
  
"Dean."  
  
The tone of Michael's voice made Dean want to hunch up but he resisted the impulse. "Well, I wouldn't know, now would I? It's not like I've got any good experience with that."  
  
The memory faded and a Deirdre-looking Michael appeared before him. "Why do you find it so hard to believe in your own worth?"  
  
"You weren't there, you didn't see what I did in Hell."  
  
"Castiel did and you cannot seem to believe him."  
  
"He only saw part of it and he's biased."  
  
"Dean, you have already been forgiven for that."  
  
"Why?" Dean asked, voice smaller then he liked.  
  
"Because it was not your fault. It was Hell and you were given to Alastair for the specific purpose of breaking the first seal. He was Hell's Chief Inquisitor for a reason and to be the sole focus of his attention is difficult for anyone. No one would not have broken."  
  
"Dad didn't."  
  
"Your father was neither given Alastair's sole attention nor was he given the opportunity to get off the rack. Many souls are never given the chance to get off the rack and are just tortured until they are demons, weak demons, but demons nonetheless."  
  
"He wasn't? Alastair..." Dean closed his eyes. "He lied, didn't he?"  
  
"Yes. Though your father was a good man at heart, he was not righteous. Even if he had been given the chance to pick up the knife and did so, he would not have broken the seal, only you could do that."  
  
"But... he never lied before. It was one thing that I always hated as I wanted to be able to catch him in a lie just once."  
  
"After that he could be sure that you would believe this one. Did he tell you this when Uriel and Castiel had captured him?"  
  
"Yeah," Dean sighed. "So how are you feeling? Any better?"  
  
"I am recovered now. Let me see about healing the rest of you."  
  
With a thought, Dean reconnected himself with his senses and then tried to follow what Michael was doing. Most of it was far too complex, but he did feel a tingling sensation deep within him where he'd never really felt anything before. The parts that he could immediately identify were the flares of pain from his heart and liver. He grunted in surprise but it was over almost as soon as he was aware of it.  
  
"You should not drink as much," Michael said in his true voice.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, I'd say none of your business, but Cas has already beaten you to it."  
  
"Good. As for what you eat-"  
  
"No, we're not going there."  
  
"Dean."  
  
"Not happening, Mike. I like what I eat."  
  
"Even if it harms you?"  
  
"Well I've got a clean slate now, don't I?"  
  
"You were on your way to a heart attack."  
  
"Believe me, I know, had it already, actually."  
  
At Michael's confusion, Dean brought up the memory and tried to push it at the archangel. It felt weird when Michael  _dipped into_  it, but it was easier than trying to explain it all.  
  
"I see," Michael said when he pulled out of it. "And you still choose to eat things that cause that?"  
  
"Life is short for humans, Mike, and shorter still for hunters. I don't really expect to live long enough for it to ever be an issue. So why shouldn't I eat what I like? It's all about the simple pleasures as far as I'm concerned."  
  
"Do not speak like that, you do not know that you will die soon."  
  
Dean was surprised at the sheer vehemence behind those words. "I'm just being realistic here, is all. This whole Apocalypse hasn't exactly lengthened my life expectancy any either, in fact it's done rather the opposite, what with almost everyone gunning for my guts."  
  
"You know that Castiel and I shall do everything within our power to prevent anything from happening to you, do you not? And even if you do not believe it, Raphael will do all that he can to protect you as well."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
It was all that Dean could force past his lips. The fierceness and protectiveness that seemed to wrap around him rendering him effectively speechless. If Michael felt so strongly about him like this, then what did Castiel feel? He could only imagine the extent of his lover's feelings and it made him swallow.  



	66. Chapter 65

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and the angels put their plan into action.

**PAST**  
  
  
Castiel stood by, completely invisible and undetectable to human senses, and watched Claire Novak play with her friends. He found that he infinitely preferred to watch Claire instead of Amelia as Claire seemed happier. There was an air of sadness around Amelia, especially when she wasn't doing anything, that was difficult for him to bear. He had done his best to witness some of it as he felt that it was his penance for the way he had treated Jimmy, but it kept reminding him of what his mate was experiencing right now and he knew he was in danger of revealing himself if he stayed around Amelia for too long.  
  
Although Castiel knew that his knowledge of human customs was still woefully lacking, he did know enough to know better than to reveal himself to Amelia. Yes, he should probably inform her of her husband's death and the circumstances thereof, but simply appearing out of thin air to do so was not the right approach to the matter. Again, it was an issue on which he would need to wait until he was able to speak with his mate. It was amazing how much he relied on Dean these days and how he had failed to notice this before now. His hunter had managed to intertwine their lives even well before they had first mated.  
  
Afraid of where his thoughts might lead him next, Castiel forced his attention back to Claire. He had been trying to determine what her age was as he was sorry to realize that though he'd had her as his vessel, he simply didn't know. His knowledge of human childhood and growth was not sufficient for him to figure it out. That she was no longer a mere child he knew for sure, but that she was not yet an adult was apparent by her immature behavior and that of her friends. He believed that she was now what Sam had once called a teenager. He was happy to note, though, that she seemed far happier and more carefree than her mother, even if he could detect a deep well of sorrow within her that was no doubt due to her father's abrupt and unexplained departure from her life. He wondered if the knowledge she and her mother had gained all those months later had been helpful or if it had merely served to make things worse.  
  
As Castiel watched her, he couldn't help but remember what he had said to her upon first taking Jimmy as his vessel.  
  
 _"I am not your father."_  
  
That had not been an appropriate statement to make to his vessel's daughter, Castiel understood that now. It seemed that the longer he pondered this issue, the more faults he found regarding his past behavior. It was a wonder to him that his mate had ever started seeing him as anything other than the dick with wings most other angels were to Dean. He could only thank his Father for it and wonder, once more, exactly what his Father's plans were. Although he had lost his faith for a while, it had since become more then clear to him that his Father did have a plan, even if he couldn't see it, let alone  _understand_  it at present. It pained him to think that his Father had intended for his mate to experience as much pain and suffering as he had and he could only imagine that it had been necessary for a reason he couldn't see as of yet.  
  
Even that knowledge was hardly more then a cold comfort whenever Castiel saw proof of Dean's hard life crop up, but he also knew that his mate wouldn't be who he was if he hadn't experienced all of that hardship and suffering. He also doubted that his little hunter would take kindly to anyone trying to alter that life, difficult as it may have been as Dean would only view that as someone interfering where they had no right to do so. It had taken him a very long time to understand why his mate would choose a life full of pain to Paradise on Earth, but he had come to know a lot about free will since then and even if he knew his knowledge was still minute compared to that of most humans, he treasured it greatly. What was more, he believed that his Father approved of him having learned this lesson from His Righteous Man.  
  
Castiel had to admit to himself that he was tempted to return to Heaven even if he knew that all was running well there. He had gone back home after first leaving his mate and his brother and it had been to find things in a bit of an uproar. As he should have expected, the Virtues had detected the moment that Dean had decided to say yes to Michael and it had resulted in many major ripples. The only reason that Xarael hadn't come rushing to his side with the news had been because the Virtues had seen his presence and apparently his own decisions in the matter had been of no small importance either.  
  
In the end, Castiel had left Heaven as he'd known that were he to remain there, he would have sought out the Virtues for any information and insight the ripples to the life energy had given them. While that was a valid strategy and one he definitely planned on pursuing later, he knew only all too well that the Virtues needed time to fully process all of the ripples and the ramifications thereof to the best of their abilities. Not only was it considered rude to try and rush the process, but it could be dangerous as well. What the Virtues did was a painstaking process, compiling limitless information from the significant impacts to the life energy and thus every tiny detail could be of vital importance. Rushing them could not only lead to things being missed, but could also risk not obtaining vital information that they would only uncover later when inspecting the remaining ripples. No, it was best to leave them to their work and then question them for information and insight when they were done.  
  
And to remember that what they saw was by no means immutable. In the end, it could only be used as a guide to what may come next. Despite that, Castiel believed it to be important to have as much information at his disposal as possible on which to base his decisions. There was too much at stake here for him to do anything less.  
  
 _"Castiel, Raphael."_  
  
The moment Michael's voice sounded in his head, Castiel abandoned his vigil and thoughts, and flew straight for his brother. He had purposefully been trying not to think about how long it had been since he'd left his mate and Michael alone as he had become far too acquainted with the human experience of finding that time moved slower when you wanted it to pass quickly. It had been a most disconcerting experience the first time it had transpired, as he was used to  _centuries_  passing by with hardly any notice before so to have  _minutes_  and  _seconds_  take so long was difficult to process.  
  
As soon as he arrived and laid eyes on Dean and his brother, Castiel knew that he had made a mistake in not taking a few moments to prepare himself for the sight of his mate as a vessel. It was just so jarring and  _wrong_. Though he had often wished for Dean to be able to see and sense his wings, he had never thought of his mate with wings, which was a little odd seeing as he was an angel, but Dean had always been just perfect as he was and he had never wanted more. Never had the desire to experience wing interlocking risen within him when they'd mated, nor had he ever found himself reaching out to touch wings that simply weren't there. He wanted them gone even if his mate looked exquisite with them.  
  
"Is Dean alright?" Castiel asked, stepping closer.  
  


* * *

 

"Yes, Brother, your mate is fine," Michael replied.  
  
Although he knew exactly what Castiel looked like in his current vessel, Michael let his eyes track his younger brother so that his own vessel could take in what his mate truly looked like while on Earth. The fascination and wonder that were rippling off of Dean's soul warmed him in a way he hadn't expected but which he found surprisingly enjoyable. The feel of an awake and active soul nestled in his Grace was far different from the sensation of a dormant one and it was a difference that he liked immensely. The entire experience of being in his true vessel was so unbelievable that he knew going back to Deirdre Winchester would be difficult at best, but he had no intention of breaking his promise. Even as it was rewarding, he knew this new awareness could quickly turn into a source of vexation if he were ever to do anything against Dean's will. He'd had enough experience with the human to know that he would fight with all that he had despite the situation and the knowledge that he couldn't win. It was just how he was.  
  
"Michael?" Raphael inquired.  
  
Automatically, Michael's eyes shifted to his other brother and he felt a little flash of displeasure from within him.  
  
" _Mike!_ " Dean protested.  
  
" _Hush, Little One,_ " Michael replied, looking back at Castiel only to find his brother giving him an odd look. "Yes, Raphael?" First things first.  
  
"Are you alright, Brother?" Raphael questioned. "You are behaving oddly."  
  
"There is nothing wrong with me. Dean is just fascinated with Castiel's wings and I am merely indulging him."  
  
The fact that his choice of wording drew no protested told Michael much about how absorbed his vessel was with the sight of his mate. It made him feel a twinge of the jealousy he'd felt before today at the thought that Castiel had held Dean's soul within his Grace when he himself hadn't. That experience was proving to be better then he had ever thought possible and now that he had it, he didn't understand why he continued to feel this way. His vessel had been awed upon seeing his own wings, surely that should be enough for him.  
  
His words seemed to startle his brothers for a moment.  
  
"You are letting him see everything now?" Castiel asked.  
  
"Yes."  
  
His response made his brother straighten and Michael recognized the way Castiel's wings puffed up and extended as being the exact same reaction he'd had earlier to Dean's examination of them. The laughter from his vessel proved that he wasn't the only one who'd noticed that similarity.  
  
" _You guys are like a bunch of damn peacocks strutting your stuff._ " A pause. " _Though what the hell that says about me, I don't think I want to examine too closely._ "  
  
Michael felt a small ripple of indignation. " _We are not birds._ "  
  
" _No, of course not. You're just down with the whole preening your feathers thing._ "  
  
His vessel could be extremely vexing when he wished to be.  
  
"What is it like, to have a vessel interacting with you the entire time?" Raphael questioned.  
  
"Different, but in a pleasant manner. It will be hard to return to Deirdre Winchester's body and not have a soul vibrating within me."  
  
" _Way to make that sound dirty,_ " Dean muttered.  
  
" _I do not understand._ "  
  
" _No, of course not,_ " Dean sounded far too amused for Michael's liking and he knew that he was missing something his vessel considered important. " _But trust me, you really_ don't _want to understand this either._ "  
  
Given some of what the hunter liked, Michael was easily willing to believe that. Humans were such odd creatures at times.  
  
"Though you might enjoy the quiet," Raphael continued. "I assume he speaks as much now and is just as liable to share his opinions as he normally is."  
  
"Yes."  
  
" _Dick._ "  
  
" _Little One._ "  
  
Instead of replying, his vessel concentrated hard on a mental image of himself showing his tongue. It was a mannerism that Michael had seen him display before though he was no closer to understanding its meaning then before. Perhaps he should ask Castiel about it later, his brother would probably know.  
  
"Now, as for the Rite of Contressa, we need to begin collecting the ingredients," Michael said.  
  
"I have already gone to the Hidden Valley and it will be the full moon there three nights hence," Raphael stated.  
  
" _Overachiever,_ " Dean muttered.  
  
" _Dean._ "  
  
" _What? He is. You told him to go and wait a bit and he runs off to do stuff with the Rite anyway._ "  
  
" _Now you are merely looking for things to complain about with him. Raphael can be very focused but that is normally a good thing._ "  
  
" _Yeah, except when he's on your ass, trying to capture or kill you._ "  
  
" _I know he has apologized to you for that._ "  
  
" _He's still a dick._ "  
  
" _Why can you not give him a chance, Little One? I hurt you too and yet you have permitted me to prove that I have changed._ "  
  
" _You actually made an effort._ "  
  
" _Raphael is too in his own way. You must believe me when I say that he would not be here otherwise._ "  
  
" _I don't like him._ "  
  
" _After what he did to your mate, that does not surprise me, but it does not mean that you cannot be civil to him. He is on our side and we need all the help we can get if we want to avert the Apocalypse._ "  
  
" _You know, if you were so unsure of winning, then why did you start it in the first place?_ "  
  
" _If it were a simple matter of ending the Apocalypse, it would not be a problem. Averting it is another issue altogether,_ " Michael stated before speaking aloud. "Good. That means we can perform the Rite in four days, let us aim for that. Raphael, since you have already been to the Hidden Valley, will you return there to collect the blossom at the appointed time?"  
  
"Yes," Raphael replied.  
  
"How do we best divide the list, Castiel?"  
  
"Well, there is the blessing from a pure soul, which you will need to collect personally of course. You will also need to be the one to get the willing blood donation of a repentant sinner. The rest I believe can safely be divided among us."  
  
With that, Castiel began assigning the remaining ingredients between them.  
  
" _What, no need to write any of this down?_ " Dean asked.  
  
" _No, we have perfect memories._ "  
  
" _Of course you do._ "  
  



	67. Chapter 66

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobby tells the others what they must do to prepare Sam for the ritual.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
Bobby was still thinking about what he'd just learned when he knocked on the door to the Sam and Christian's room.  
  
 _Dean and Castiel_.  
  
If he hadn't seen it himself, he'd never have believed it, especially with Dean involved. Bobby had often despaired of the boy's seeming inability to not chase every skirt that he could, though it hadn't escaped his notice that Dean had never let it interfere with a hunt. Doing it while on a hunt, hell yes, but not so that it interfered or endangered anyone. But always girls. He'd never so much as seen Dean look at a guy like that and now he couldn't help but wonder if that was because he'd never expected to, because the boy was just that good at hiding it, or because it had just never happened before Castiel.  
  
It didn't really matter too much to Bobby except that he was a hunter and if it was either of the first two reasons then he really deserved to get what was coming to him. But as for the rest, he didn't really give a damn. That Dean was happy had been more than obvious and he had absolutely no doubt as to Castiel's commitment. The angel had been completely devoted to the elder Winchester for well over a year before their relationship had turned romantic, the lengths Castiel had gone for Dean had made that more than clear even back then and it had always scared him a bit. That kind of loyalty and devotion wasn't quite human and he'd always been afraid of what would happen when Dean inevitably failed to live up to those unrealistic expectations. It hadn't been that he'd thought the boy would do so purposefully, but merely that he knew that Dean was human and as flawed as any of them. It had been almost a relief in a strange way when that fear had finally played itself out and he'd been able to see that all Castiel had done had been to give the older Winchester a sound beating. Not to mention how ironic it was as he had absolutely no doubt as to exactly where Castiel had learned to deal with his anger like that. Served the boy right in a lot of ways.  
  
It was odd how much better Bobby felt right now despite having just found out that the Apocalypse was still very much looming over their heads instead of being over and done with as they'd thought. He knew it was purely down to the fact that Dean had accepted his apology and that the boy was so happy at the moment despite everything fate and destiny had thrown at him. He'd just always had that damn soft spot for Dean and he knew it stemmed from the fact that he'd always wanted a son of his own. That thought inevitably brought up memories of Karen and thus he was infinitely grateful when the door opened to reveal Christian.  
  
"Got some information to share," Bobby stated gruffly as he entered the room to find everyone already there.  
  
"So do we," Sam said, pointing to a picture on his laptop. "Look familiar?"  
  
"That's the third angel."  
  
"Actually no, this is Donnie Finnerman."  
  
"That name rings a bell."  
  
"It should, Dean mentioned him once back when he told us what he and Cas had been up to when we went our separate ways there for a while."  
  
"And?"  
  
"He's the vessel for Raphael, Bobby," Sam practically spat. "The other douche bag angel that was so determined to get us to say yes. The one who killed Cas for trying to help Dean prevent the breaking of the last seal."  
  
"Wait, Castiel was killed?" Samuel demanded.  
  
"Yeah, but God brought him back."  
  
"Are you sure it was God?" Christian asked.  
  
"Yes, Cas was trying to help us stop the Apocalypse," Sam explained. "Besides, the second time he came back, Lucifer was the one who'd killed him and he was brought back after we went into the cage."  
  
"So much for him being gone."  
  
"I know, I just don't get why he doesn't step in and stop this whole thing, but he hasn't so far and I don't think we can count on him doing so. Anyway, what was it you had to tell us, Bobby?"  
  
"Well, I had a little visit from Dean and Castiel," Bobby began.  
  
"What? Why?" Christian demanded.  
  
"Because I called Dean and he thought it would be best to speak in person."  
  
"Why did you call him, Bobby?" Sam asked.  
  
"To apologize."  
  
"Seriously? You weren't just kidding when you said you thought we owed him one?"  
  
"Yes, seriously, ya idjit. We were wrong and made a big mistake in trying to decide what was best for your brother," Bobby stated, some of his previous anger at Sam's attitude and behavior returning. "The least I could do was apologize to him for it and hope that he would forgive me."  
  
"Did he?" Samuel inquired.  
  
"Yes, though I'll clearly have to earn back the trust I lost."  
  
"Some friend," Christian muttered.  
  
Bobby bit back his instinctive response and forced himself to remain quiet for a few moments so as to prevent himself from snapping at the other hunter. He'd taken an instant dislike to Christian and had seen nothing since to change his mind, but now was not the time to get into an argument with the man. At first he'd thought his dislike stemmed from the fact that Christian seemed to have taken Dean's place in Sam's life, but the man quickly proved that he was an asshole in his own right. The hunter's complete and utter dislike of Dean also didn't help things any and he'd have gladly walked away never to see him again if it wasn't for the fact that Sam seemed to consider him family and worth sticking with.  
  
"I betrayed his trust, it is only natural that I should have to earn it back," Bobby finally stated, noticing Sam's flinch out of the corner of his eye before angry determination took its place.  
  
Great, the boy was going to dig in his heels and be stubborn about this of all issues. Bobby felt his stomach twist as he suddenly realized that the days of the two brothers hunting together were well and truly over. Even if they managed to halt the Apocalypse in its tracks tomorrow, he knew that things would never be the same again, too much had happened between them for it ever to be the same as before, especially if Sam was going to be his usual mule headed self and not recognize that he was in the wrong and apologize. From what he'd seen earlier, Dean's days of simply forgiving them their trespasses without prompting was over and Sam was far too much like John to ever take the first step in this type of situation. Besides, then there was the whole thing with Castiel. Even if Sam could be made to see the error of his ways and he apologized, it would still be Dean and Castiel in addition to the youngest Winchester.  
  
The thought made him frown. Sam obviously didn't know about his brother and Castiel as that had only developed after the whole Lisa fiasco, but did he knew that his brother liked men as well as women? Personally, Bobby didn't care one way or the other, but he couldn't help but wonder about the younger Winchester now. Surely if Dean swung both ways there had to be a reason why he hadn't known about that, it wasn't like the boy had any sense of decency or shame when it came to sex. He'd hunted with the boys often enough to know that, not to mention the time he'd walked in on Dean watching porn once, though thank the Lord the boy hadn't actually gotten to the point of jacking off just yet. That was something he just didn't need to ever see.  
  
So why hadn't he known about it? Why had Dean felt the need to hide that part of himself? The only reasons Bobby could think of were named Sam and John and he'd have hoped that if it were the latter, the boy would have felt safe enough to come out after his daddy's death. Which left just Sam. The thought that it could also be he himself hurt, but he quickly dismissed it. It had been Dean's idea earlier to tell him, not Castiel's, so the boy had been pretty sure that he wouldn't react badly, which meant that he hadn't been the reason for Dean's silence on the matter. The thing was, he just couldn't easily picture it being Sam either as he'd never noticed any prejudice of that nature in the younger man. But what did that leave? He'd just have to see whether Sam was homophobic later, now was not the time to deal with it.  
  
"The fact that I've been forgiven in the first place is the important part," Bobby continued. "Before he left, I asked what I could do to help and he said that we need to make sure Sam underwent a complete cleansing before they do their ritual to ensure that Lucifer can't just take him again."  
  
"Cleansing?" Gwen questioned in surprise. "Why would he need to undergo that?"  
  
"Well, I  _did_  get pulled into Hell," Sam said. "I'm sure that's left its taint behind and would probably make it easier for Lucifer to get back in or make it harder for their ritual, especially if it uses any kind of special ingredients."  
  
"Did you cleanse Dean after he got out of Hell?" Samuel asked.  
  
"No, but he got pulled out by an angel, so Castiel might have taken care of it," Bobby replied thoughtfully. "Besides, only Dean's soul went to Hell, not his body like with Sam."  
  
"Did he say what kind of cleansing spell would be best?" Christian demanded. "Or did he leave that detail out?"  
  
"He said a complete cleansing, so I would use all of the common ones," Bobby said, forcing himself not to respond to the tone the man had used when he'd said that last. "It probably wouldn't hurt to do a short fast as well."  
  
"Fast?" Sam inquired as his eyebrows rose in surprise. "Just how tainted do you think I am, Bobby?"  
  
"You said it yourself, you were in Hell. Besides, that demon blood you drank probably left its own taint behind. How much of it did you have at the end there?"  
  
"Demon blood?" Samuel demanded, shocked. "Drank? You mean he- Sam, did you actually  _drink_  demon blood?"  
  
From the shocked and horrified looks on the others' faces, Bobby realized that Sam had never told his newfound family about that particular aspect of his past. He felt his anger grow and he clenched his jaw as he thought about that. So, the boy had thought nothing of telling them about what Dean had done in Hell because he thought they had a right to know, but he had conveniently left out his own transgression. It was only the memory of the massive quantities of demon blood that Sam had consumed in Detroit that kept his mouth shut just now. To be honest, he'd forgotten all about that as the boy had come back seemingly okay and without any signs of withdrawal so he'd assumed it all burned off by Lucifer. Now, however, he couldn't help but wonder if some of its taint didn't remain. Could that be why Sam was behaving the way that he was now? It made him feel guilty because if that was the case, then he'd failed the boy badly.  
  
On the other hand, it was also entirely possible that Sam's present behavior had nothing to do with the demon blood. Bobby knew that nothing he'd seen was entirely unlike the boy, it was just all more extreme versions of what Sam had said and done in the past. It was all far more John-like. If it had been anything else, he'd have tried to exorcise him long ago. No, the chances were that any lingering taint from the demon blood was more exacerbatory in nature than influential, which meant that all this was pure Sam.  
  
"I had to in order to let Lucifer in," Sam confessed, looking down. "Castiel had said any vessel that housed Lucifer needed to drink it and we thought it best to do so ahead of time so that I'd be stronger from the get-go."  
  
Bobby found that he had little compassion for the youngest Winchester as he saw the disgust on the other's faces. Although this time his drinking of the blood had been dictated by circumstances, all but one of the previous times hadn't been. It was something that he still didn't understand and didn't think that he ever would if he were honest with himself. While he understood that Sam had been addicted to the stuff and hadn't been able to help himself towards the end any more than any other type of addict could, it was the beginning that he had problems with. Demon blood wasn't like the kinds of drugs that people normally go hooked on. Because, at the beginning of any addiction, you had to actually  _decide_  to take the drug in question for the first time and what in God's name the boy had been thinking deciding to drink  _that_ , he would never understand.  
  
"I think it would probably be best if we started with a fast and your basic cleansing spell first," Bobby stated. "Just to be safe and see how bad things are."  
  
"A good idea," Samuel agreed. "I believe we have almost all that we need for the basic spell."


	68. Chapter 67

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael and Dean begin collecting ingredients for the Rite of Contressa.

**PAST**  
  
  
The inside of the church was cavernous, echoing and empty. The faint smell of incense still clung to the air, as did the perpetual chill that Dean had come to associate with churches everywhere. It had something to do with the logistics of heating so large an open space, or at least that was what Pastor Jim had always said and he figured his old friend would know what he'd been talking about.  
  
All of this, Dean took in almost mechanically in the seconds after they'd landed. The rest of his attention was still trying to process what had just happened. In typical angel fashion, Michael had flown them to their first destination, but the archangel had neglected to warn him of what angel air was like for a vessel as opposed to a human being carried by an angel. Whereas angel transportation had always seemed instantaneous before, now it hadn't. Oh, he was sure that no extra time had actually elapsed (and exactly how the hell that worked he didn't even want to try and figure out), merely that his angelically enhanced senses had now picked up and transmitted things to his brain that his ordinary human ones never could have.  
  
" _Dean?_ " Michael questioned. " _Are you alright?_ "  
  
" _Yeah, just give me a moment to process all of that._ "  
  
" _All of what?_ "  
  
" _Being transported by one of you guys seems instantaneous to humans._ "  
  
" _Oh, my apologies._ "  
  
Dean snorted. " _Not your fault._ "  
  
In a way, Dean was kinda glad that he'd had no warning of what it would be like. His fear of flying probably would have kicked in otherwise and he was rather glad that he hadn't been given the opportunity to embarrass himself before the archangel. Now that he knew what to expect, he also wouldn't freak out in the future either as it was nothing like normal flying. For one, he could literally  _feel_  his- Michael's- many wings beating and the air moving through and over the feathers, giving him the illusion of being in control. If he'd thought the wings were cool earlier, it was absolutely nothing compared to the feel of the strong appendages beating and  _bearing his weight_  as they flew.  
  
As for the rest, well, Dean just wasn't quite sure what to make of it. Yes, he'd seen things, but it had all flashed by so fast as to be nearly meaningless. It had come down to flashes of color, gray, red, green, blue, brown and gray again. Even if Michael was able to process all of that faster than him, he still doubted that the archangel could fly and navigate just by that alone.  
  
" _How do you fly?_ " Dean finally asked. " _How do you know how to get to somewhere?_ "  
  
" _Angels all know the Earth in its entirety. It is one of our Father's greatest creations and something we all know very well and any angel that comes to it must know what you call each area now._ "  
  
" _So you just fly in the general direction first?_ "  
  
" _Yes, then we narrow it down, faster then you can probably follow._ "  
  
" _Yeah,_ " Dean admitted ruefully.  
  
Since he knew that he wouldn't be able to figure it all out now, Dean let it slide and turned all of his attention to what was going on around him at the moment. Michael had walked them up the central aisle and now they stood before the main altar and the large cross that hung behind it. As he looked up at it, his eyes were inevitably drawn to the vaulted ceiling above the cross. The moment he caught sight of the detailed stonework and paintings up there, he knew that they weren't actually in a large church, but rather in a small cathedral. The realization gave new meaning to the landscape that had flashed by beneath him, particularly to the blue.  
  
" _We're in Europe, aren't we?_ " Dean asked with an odd sort of acceptance as if he really should have seen this coming.  
  
Castiel had used to fly off for all corners of the globe on a regular basis after all. Not to mention the fact that it was really shortsighted of him to expect this whole thing to take place in the US. Which was to say nothing of the fact that if it was so easy for angels to travel anywhere, why should they limit themselves geographically?  
  
" _Yes, Western Belgium to be exact,_ " Michael replied.  
  
" _Why?_ "  
  
" _Because there is a priest here who has been praying to me since he was a child._ "  
  
" _You can tell people's prayers apart? Of those you've never met, I mean._ "  
  
" _Sometimes, yes. Lesser angels find it easier to do so as they receive far fewer prayers then say myself, Raphael or, well, or then Gabriel used to get._ "  
  
The wave of foreign sadness that reached him made Dean wince in sympathy. He was, unfortunately, only all too aware of what it felt like to lose a brother and even the knowledge that Michael and Gabriel had been estranged for centuries or millennia only made it worse in a way. Yes, they'd been apart for so long, but he could only imagine that they'd been together for far longer and time apart didn't make the loss any easier to bear and could make it worse depending on the circumstances of their split. That, however, was not something that he was going to pry into even if part of him felt that it would serve the archangel right for his earlier attempts at the same.  
  
" _Lesser angels are also more likely to get repeat prayers,_ " Michael continued on. " _They are less well known and thus those who know of them tend to have looked them up specifically or have attached some special meaning to calling upon them that brings them back time and again._ "  
  
" _They're not lesser,_ " Dean couldn't help but mutter in defence of his lover.  
  
" _I do not mean it in a negative sense, Little One, just that they are not archangels and are less well known to humans._ "  
  
That much at least Dean knew to be true. He'd tried to look up Castiel once while waiting for his brother to finish up with some research at a library and he'd been completely unable to find anything on him. It was as if his then friend had simply not existed according to the angelic lore that humans possessed. It had saddened him then, but now he wondered if that might not be a mixed blessing, if it meant that his angel didn't have to put up with the incessant pleas and requests from people. Or did angels really like getting prayed to? If so, it wasn't fair that Castiel wasn't mentioned anywhere, he was the best angel as far as he was concerned and no, that wasn't just his bias as a lover talking, he'd felt that way for a long time. Not that Michael wasn't proving to be half decent himself.  
  
" _So do you get prayers all of the time then?_ " Dean asked.  
  
Instead of replying, Dean felt a twist of Michael's Grace alongside himself and suddenly a flood of overlapping voices echoed in his head.  
  
 _"I pray to Michael, greatest of the angels-"  
  
"- please bless my son, he has done nothing-"  
  
"-Michael, sword of Heaven, Prince of Light-"  
  
"Give me the rewards I so justly deserve for the sacrifices that I have made, Michael-"_  
  
The voices blurred into a loud buzz but for those that seemed to leap out, at least temporarily, and Dean found himself shaking his head in an attempt to clear it before they all vanished once more. The silence was a blessed relief after the unexpected clamor and he found himself sighing in relief.  
  
" _How do you deal with it all?_ " Dean questioned.  
  
" _It is not as difficult for me to handle. You forget that I am used to constantly hearing others as I am connected to all my brothers and sisters._ "  
  
" _Oh, right, I'd forgotten about that. You keeping that quiet as well?_ "  
  
" _Yes. It is not something that requires attention all of the time and should anyone call out to me specifically, I will know._ "  
  
It was little wonder to Dean now why Castiel had found his separation from the Host so difficult to bear if his lover had always had a constant link to his brothers and sisters even if only as background noise. He could only imagine that the silence had been stifling and totally alien to him. He wished now that he'd been more sympathetic at the time, but he just hadn't known in the same way that his angel hadn't truly been able to grasp any number of human idiosyncrasies.  
  
When Dean turned his attention back to his surroundings, it was to find that Michael still had them before the altar. In the past, he would have made some smartass remark to get them moving onto the actual reason they were here, but now he held his tongue as it were. He'd spent enough time with Castiel to know how seriously angels took their connection to God and while he still had quite firm and judgmental opinions about the guy, he could relate to being conflicted about one's father. Not to mention that Michael's relationship with his Father was probably made even more complicated by his recent trip downstairs.  
  
The sound of a door closing off to their right seemed to end the moment as Dean could feel Michael becoming more alert again even though he didn't move a muscle. The sound was followed by footsteps on the stone floor and then he was  _aware_  of a presence in a way he'd never felt before. It amazed him how quickly he was able to accept that and chalk it up to angelic senses and move on to dealing with the implications of what it meant.  
  
" _It is him,_ " Michael stated.  
  
" _The priest?_ "  
  
" _Yes. He will be able to guide us to a pure soul who will bless us._ "  
  
There was a pause in the footsteps as the priest obviously caught sight of them and then an old voice called out to them. "Can I help you? I'm afraid we don't do late Mass tonight."  
  
It took Dean a few seconds to realize that he really shouldn't be able to understand what the priest had just said. Not if they were in Western Belgium. What did Belgians speak anyway? Belgish?  
  
" _You could comprehend him?_ " Michael questioned, surprised.  
  
" _Yes, shouldn't I be able to?_ "  
  
" _Not really, no. You must be taping into my ability to comprehend all languages._ "  
  
" _Oh, oops._ "  
  
" _I do not mind, it is merely surprising. But now you can see how easily information and knowledge is shared between us._ "  
  
" _Yeah._ "  
  
Truth be told, it kinda terrified Dean a little how easily he'd utilized the archangel's knowledge and skills. Michael's earlier ability to pluck stuff from his mind without intending to do so was starting to make much more sense now. But if it happened so readily, then how did they keep themselves separate? How did they stop themselves from blending or blurring into one?  
  
" _Any advice on how to proceed?_ " Michael asked.  
  
" _What? With him? No, sorry, I was never religious so I don't have the first clue what a man of the cloth might need to be convinced that you're you. Cas had to show the last priest the shadow of his wings, but that guy thought he was a demon 'cause he'd seen him appear out of thin air._ "  
  
"I have come to ask for your help, Pieter-Jan," Michael stated.  
  
The old man started, clearly caught off-guard. "Do I know you?" he inquired.  
  
"No, but you have called upon me often since you were but a boy."  
  
" _Okay, now you've just freaked him out,_ " Dean stated as he watched the priest's eyes go wide and the poor guy took a step back.  
  
" _I do not understand, he has prayed to me often,_ " Michael replied.  
  
The genuine confusion radiating from the archangel made Dean shake his head. " _Yeah, but he never really expected for you to answer him directly, let alone appear before him._ "  
  
Michael sighed and Dean wasn't sure if that had been just in his head or whether the archangel had done it aloud. The next thing he knew, he could feel their wings arching even as there was another shift of Grace and several unlit candles around them blazed to life far stronger than was normal or natural. Pieter-Jan's eyes widened in alarm and darted about before they froze in shock and wonder just over his shoulders and he knew that somehow Michael had made his wings visible to the priest. The lightning and thunder that had accompanied his own first sighting of angelic wings were absent, but then he realized that it hadn't been there in the archives of the Vatican either, so perhaps it was an archangel thing to not need such a flashy display? He half wished that he could see himself right now as it could only imagine what he looked like just now with the wings, shadow and fire.  
  
"Michael," the priest breathed in awe before going to his knees, a psalm falling from his lips.  
  
" _Aw, man,_ " Dean complained. " _Tell him to get up._ "  
  
" _Why?_ "  
  
" _'Cause he shouldn't have to do that. No one should have to prostrate themselves before another._ "  
  
There was a subtle twist of Grace against his soul and Michael made a surprised little noise. " _I always thought your lack of proper respect was born solely of defiance, but you truly believe this._ "  
  
" _Yeah, of course. What does such subservience do but signify fear of the person performing it or another's greater power?_ "  
  
" _It is considered a sign of respect._ "  
  
Dean snorted. " _Respect born solely of, or based largely on, fear isn't true respect. That's self-preservation kicking in. Real respect runs deeper and doesn't need such flashy gestures._ "  
  
" _Hmm._ "  
  
It was Michael's only verbal reply, but Dean could feel him considering those words and he left it at that as the archangel started to move. Michael dipped his hand into the font of Holy water and stepped close to the priest. When the man looked up at him, the archangel made the sign of the cross on the priest's forehead, whispering a benediction before briefly placing his hand on Pieter-Jan's head. It was as the worshipful gaze of the priest registered that it suddenly hit Dean that it was his own face that the man was seeing. Sure, he'd known what saying yes entailed, had seen himself in the mirror earlier, but he hadn't given much thought to how others would view them. To them, he  _was_  Michael, just like Jimmy Novak's appearance was so intricately tied to Castiel in his mind even if he knew that Jimmy was merely a vessel so that his lover could interact with him and be on Earth.  
  
This priest and anyone else they encountered would forever more associate  _his_  appearance with Michael. Dean swallowed at the thought and was suddenly ridiculously glad that the archangel had decided to cross the Atlantic in order to fulfil this particular requirement of the Rite.  
  
"How may I serve you, my- Michael?" Pieter-Jan questioned.  
  
The little slip of the tongue didn't pass Dean by and he knew it would have amused him if he weren't still so shocked. Who'd ever have thought that he'd ever be mistaken for an angel? Not anyone who knew him, that was for sure.  
  
"I require a blessing by a pure soul," Michael explained. "I believe you have one who is thus innocent, you have mentioned him in your prayers."


	69. Chapter 68

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael and Dean continue their task.

PAST  
  
  
The chapel of a high-security prison was honestly a place that Dean had never expected to find himself in. Well, it was probably supposed to be one of those multi-faith rooms, but it looked far too much like a generic Christian church for him to bother thinking of it like that. Freaking politically correct names and all that bullshit. He much preferred to call things as they really were, politics and all be damned.  
  
" _Why this?_ " Dean asked as Michael silently approached a man kneeling before an altar. " _I mean why here? Surely there are other repentant sinners out there that won't require you to honor a murderer with your presence._ "  
  
" _He has faith and has truly repented,_ " Michael replied.  
  
Dean resisted the urge to snort. He couldn't really argue with the archangel on that one, not when he could practically  _feel_  the honesty and remorse radiating from the convict as he prayed. Besides, who was he to decide who could and couldn't be forgiven their crimes? Though horrible, what this man- Daniel Codman- had done was nothing compared to the atrocities that he himself had performed in Hell.  
  
" _Besides,_ " Michael added. " _His willing blood donation will be worth all the more given the nature of his transgressions._ "  
  
" _Huh?_ "  
  
" _The more severe the sins committed, the more powerful his blood will be, especially since we are performing the Rite on Lucifer._ "  
  
" _Why?_ "  
  
" _Because he would have gone to Hell but for his confession to God and genuine repentance. He would have been one of Lucifer's own, one of those souls that my brother had managed to tear away from our Father._ "  
  
" _So why didn't we just use my blood? If it's the severity of the crimes that counts?_ "  
  
There was a flicker of anger and, he thought, exasperation, but it was gone before Dean could fully grasp it. The emotions made him feel kinda bad, but he was really curious. Surely his blood would have made everything that much more powerful. The things he'd done to escape Alastair's rack and knife...  
  
Besides, he'd already been to Hell, surely that made the whole thing that much more powerful. Right?  
  
" _You were never one of his. For this to work, Lucifer must have had a genuine claim on the soul in question._ "  
  
Michael's voice sounded strange, tight with some emotion if Dean had to take a guess. The thing was, while they were like this, with him almost fully connected to his meatsuit, he heard Michael's true voice. It was still far too new to him for him to get any kind of good read on it, but it definitely sounded different from before. Less... aw, hell, okay, less musical and he hated how chick-like that made him sound but it was the only way he could put it. It struck him as a negative thing, almost like it had gotten dampened or muffled somehow, and he could only assume that meant the archangel wasn't pleased with him, which went with the anger he'd felt a few moments ago.  
  
" _I was in Hell, how could I_ not _have been one of his?_ " Dean asked.  
  
He wasn't trying to be difficult, he really wasn't for once, but it didn't make any sense to him. Surely having been down there meant that the devil had a claim on his soul, didn't it?  
  
" _Because you were not meant to be there, Little One. You sold your soul for your brother, a noble if misguided cause and done for love. You never earned yourself a place in Hell and thus even after the hell hounds dragged you down there, your soul was not truly Lucifer's. It was one of the reasons Alastair was so determined to corrupt you even after you had already broken the first seal. He wished to tarnish the light that remained within your soul and truly break you._ "  
  
It was only because Castiel had said something similar to him once that Dean didn't immediately begin to protest that statement. When it had been just his lover who'd said it, he'd been able to tell himself that the angel was blinded by his feelings for him and couldn't see him for what he'd truly been back then in Hell. Now, however... well, while Michael had clearly come to like him in his own way, he had a hard time believing that the archangel could be that deluded by those emotions. Which would mean that, on some level, he'd still managed to maintain a part of himself even after thirty years on the rack and another ten torturing others.  
  
Dean wanted to shy away from the thought even as he desperately wished to cling to it and never let it go. He hadn't been the only one to be offered the chance to climb down from the rack, had in fact witnessed countless other souls be offered and accept the same deal Alastair had given him but which he'd resisted for so long. Even after he'd accepted it, though, he'd still always been proud of how long he'd resisted, seeing others cave and pick up a knife far faster. What had happened next, however, was part of the reason why he'd always been so resistant to the idea that he'd deserved to be saved or could be forgiven for what he'd done. Time and again, he'd observed how rapidly those souls had blackened and putrefied, finalizing their transformation into full-fledged demons in their own right.  
  
Oddly enough, for once Dean clung to the thought that maybe he'd been different, unique.  _Better_. Whereas before he'd practically outright dismissed the mere notion, now he almost wished for it to be true. To think that he'd managed to protect a part of himself despite the sheer horror and despair of the Pit, that he had managed to thwart Alastair on some level and hadn't completely broken but had instead maintained some of his goodness even when he'd lost all hope. It was a heartening thought and something he could be proud of if he could just come to truly believe it instead of merely regarding it as a nice possibility to be pondered or considered.  
  
By the time that Dean had managed to untangle himself from the mental knot he'd tied himself in, Michael had already revealed his presence to Daniel and had apparently gotten what they'd come for if the small, red liquid-filled vial and the blood-stained knife were any indication. Wait a minute, that was his knife. As if to confirm the thought, Michael cleaned the blade with a flicker of Grace and returned it to the sheath at the back of his pants.  
  
The easy way that the archangel used not only his meatsuit, but also his possessions caused a wave of unease to rise within Dean and he was genuinely surprised that it hadn't happened sooner. It said a lot for how comfortable he was with Michael and how far their relationship had come before he'd said yes, but he also knew that it was more than that. They fit together somehow on a level he was almost afraid to contemplate simply because of what it meant about the inevitability of the circumstances that had pushed them together like this.  
  
He cut off that line of thought ruthlessly as he didn't think it would be fair to Michael if he were to start raging at God while they were together. Besides, Dean really didn't want to start down  _that_  path when they had other, more important things to take care of right now. He could have his little useless freakout and rant later, when he was alone in his head again.  
  
"Is something wrong?" Michael was asking the convict when Dean tuned back into what was going on.  
  
"No, it is just... you are the patron saint of police officers," Daniel replied haltingly. "I would not have expected you to bless me with your presence personally."  
  
" _What?_ " Dean demanded, stunned. " _Patron saint of police officers?_ "  
  
" _I am Justice, Little One._ "  
  
" _Aw, man! Now that's just not right._ "  
  
" _Why not?_ "  
  
" _'Cause they used to hunt me, still would if they knew that I was alive._ "  
  
The anger that washed over him this time was different from the anger he'd felt before though Dean wasn't sure how he knew that, just that he did. Regardless, he sighed as it seemed like he kept putting his foot in it at the moment without meaning to.  
  


* * *

 

After the prison, Michael flew them all over the place gathering the remaining ingredients on their collection list. Each 'flight' experience was still that messed up mixture of wonder, amazement, disbelief and complete bewilderment of sights that flashed before him too quickly for him to process. Partway through it all, he slowly became aware of a common bodily necessity and it caught him off-guard as he hadn't thought that angels experienced it.  
  
" _Dude!_ " Dean finally exclaimed when he realized that Michael wasn't just waiting for an opportune time to take care of their little problem. " _Hey, Mike!_ "  
  
" _Yes, Dean?_ "  
  
" _You gonna find a bathroom soon or what?_ " Confusion washed over him and Dean realized that the angel had no clue what he was talking about. " _Oh, you can't be serious!_ "  
  
" _What is wrong, Little One?_ "  
  
" _I- You- We need to pee, like right the hell now._ "  
  
" _Pee?_ "  
  
" _Yes! Can't you feel it?_ "  
  
There was that odd sensation of something shifting both within and alongside him and Dean knew the moment that the archangel had discovered what he meant.  
  
" _Oh,_ " Michael said in surprise and wonder and Dean snorted.  
  
" _Yeah, oh. Can we take care of it please? It's getting uncomfortable._ "  
  
Whatever he'd thought would come next, Dean hadn't expected to feel a twist of Grace before the fullness in his bladder just suddenly disappeared.  
  
" _What the- Did you just mojo my pee away?_ " Dean finally demanded in disbelief.  
  
" _Yes. Surely it is more convenient than using the restroom?_ "  
  
" _Oh, yeah, it is, I guess._ "  
  
" _Was that wrong?_ "  
  
" _No, I suppose not. I just hadn't thought of doing it that way, is all._ "  
  
" _I see._ "  
  
" _Yeah._ "  
  
Actually, come to think of it, Dean much preferred the way Michael had chosen to take care of it. It was probably silly of him, but thought of the archangel touching his penis, even if only to piss, was just plain wrong and made him uncomfortable in a way he hadn't felt about his own body since Ala- The moment he realized where his thoughts were going, he shut them down. It didn't even need to get that complicated. Michael was an archangel, one of Castiel's  _brothers_ , so vessel or not, there were just some things that shouldn't happen even in so innocent a way.  
  


* * *

  
  
They were just collecting their last ingredient, salt from the Red Sea (and seriously, how cool was that? Dean had seen more of the world in the past few hours than in the rest of his life combined), when an unknown voice suddenly sounded in their head.  
  
" _I have gathered all of my ingredients._ "  
  
Dean jumped at the unexpected intrusion and was already glancing about for the source of the voice before he remembered that angels were able to talk to each other in their heads.  
  
" _As have I,_ " another voice stated.  
  
" _We are finishing our list,_ " Michael replied and it warmed Dean that the archangel had said 'we' rather than 'I.'  
  
If he'd really had a throat at the moment, Dean knew it would have gone dry as he suddenly realized that, given the circumstances, one of the two angelic voices he had just heard had to be the true voice of his lover.  
  
" _Michael,_ " Dean began, nearly tripping over the words in his haste. " _Which one is Cas?_ "  
  
" _Which one do you think?_ "  
  
He felt a little flash of annoyance, how was he supposed to know? The whole point with humans and angels was that humans couldn't see or hear an angel's true form, or visage as Castiel had once called it. Both voices had sounded musical and unbelievably beautiful to his ears, much as he hated to associate either of those words with Raphael. They were clearly different, but he was loath to try and figure out which one he liked best least he chose the wrong one.  
  
" _Go with your instincts,_ " Michael encouraged.  
  
" _The second one?_ "  
  
Dean wasn't sure why he picked that one, but it had seemed softer, maybe? That probably wasn't the right word for it, but he was more drawn to it.  
  
" _Yes._ "  
  
Relief washed over Dean and he waited impatiently for his lover to speak again, just so he could enjoy his voice. Luckily, he didn't have to wait long.  
  
" _Shall we meet back at the motel?_ " Castiel inquired.  
  
" _It would be best,_ " Michael agreed. " _The ingredients would be safest with Dean._ "  
  
Not to mention that Deirdre's body was still there and Michael would need to return to it in order get back into her without potentially damaging anyone. The thought made Dean feel an odd  _something_  in his chest that he couldn't quite identify. He tried to puzzle it out and realized that he felt a bit sad knowing that the archangel was about to leave him soon. It was strange, he'd fought, dreaded and outright feared the joining for so long that to now have a part of him dread Michael leaving him was jarring to say the least. Though, to be honest, being the archangel's vessel had been absolutely nothing like what he'd thought it would be so that accounted for the majority of the change in sentiment. As for the rest, well he just wasn't sure about it.  
  
He had to admit that it felt nice to so closely linked to someone else, to literally be able to feel what someone whom he'd come to regard as a friend felt for him, especially since it was so much more then he'd ever expected it to be. Yet, despite that, Dean was only all too keenly aware of the fact that he couldn't be with his lover until Michael left and he missed Castiel something fierce right now. It was weird to be so conflicted and in such a way that he'd never been before. Despite all of that, there was absolutely no question in his mind what he'd chose, so he just went with it, trying to shove the rest aside for later contemplation.  
  
" _Very well,_ " Raphael stated.  
  
" _How much do we need?_ " Dean asked once he was sure the other two angels were done speaking.  
  
" _This is enough,_ " Michael replied, rising from where he had been crouched, collecting salt from the sea.  
  
Dean watched the archangel carefully put the salt away before a wicked grin crossed his face. " _So, time to tap our heels and wish for home?_ "  
  
" _I do not understand._ "  
  



	70. Chapter 69

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael returns to Deirdre, leaving Dean to his own meatsuit and Castiel.

**PAST**  
  
  
It had taken surprisingly little convincing to get Michael to stop for food somewhere on the way back and so they arrived in the motel room with a bag of Greek takeout that was actually Greek and not that imitation crap they served all across the continental US. Dean noticed Raphael's startled glance at the bag as Michael set it aside for later and he would have rolled his eyes if he could have. Like Castiel in the past, the archangel probably had never even given a thought to the fact that his vessel might get hungry after a while. Though, he mused uncomfortably, in Donnie Finnerman's case it probably didn't matter.  
  
The way his lover stepped closer and gave him a quick once over warmed Dean and he wished he could smile at Castiel and reassure him in person instead of leaving it to Michael.  
  
"Did everything go well?" Castiel inquired.  
  
"Yes and we have collected all of our ingredients," Michael stated, stepping towards the table.  
  
On it already lay a variety of objects that hadn't been there when they'd left. Dean looked at them in amazement as Michael added their own acquisitions to the pile, his attention quickly grabbed by a strange looking fruit.  
  
" _Is that what I think it is?_ " Dean asked.  
  
He could vaguely recall Sam once telling him that the apple in the Adam and Eve fiasco probably hadn't really been an apple at all but rather something like a pomegranate, whatever the hell that was.  
  
" _Yes,_ " Michael confirmed. " _Had you wanted to see the Garden?_ "  
  
" _I thought humans weren't allowed back in there._ "  
  
" _No, but technically it would not have been a violation of that rule if I had been the one to collect the fruit while in you._ "  
  
Dean laughed, quite liking the shrewdness of the reply. Clearly there was much more hope for Michael yet if the archangel was willing to not only contemplate but offer something like that which skirted the rules of Heaven.  
  
" _Do not forget that Father created the Garden of Eden for your kind, Little One. I do not think that He would be displeased if you were to enter it, being so much like what He had originally hoped humanity would be._ "  
  
The sentiment made Dean scowl but he kept silent, knowing that it was pointless to argue this point with either this particular archangel or his lover. In fact, he found that he almost wanted to have a little alone time to chat with Raphael, just to check that at least one archangel other than Lucifer still thought that he was a very flawed example of humankind. It was a good thing that he didn't have a big head, no matter what Sam might say to the contrary, or all of this praise would go straight up into it.  
  
" _Wait, wasn't there one more item on the list other than the flower?_ " Dean suddenly asked, counting the objects.  
  
" _Yes, the feather from an angel touched by God,_ " Michael replied. " _But since our feathers vanish quickly unless we will them to remain, it is best to not pluck it from Castiel's wing until we require it._ "  
  
" _Wait, why Cas? Aren't you and Raphael also touched by God? What with being archangels and all?_ "  
  
" _We have been, but that was a long time ago now. As the Rite of Contressa was clearly intended for use now instead of at any other time in Creation, I believe it best to use Castiel's feather as he was touched by Father far more recently then myself or any other of my brothers and sisters._ "  
  
" _Oh, yeah, that makes sense._ "  
  
" _Besides, with your bond with him, his feather should settle effortlessly with the blessing young Matthieu gave the two of us, creating a trinity within the libation, thereby strengthening it considerably._ "  
  
" _You guys and your trinities,_ " Dean muttered before he frowned. " _Speaking of the blessing, what's going to happen to that? Can you just store it while we wait for the full moon?_ "  
  
" _Yes, I shall keep it within my Grace until the necessary time. Now, are you ready for the transference?_ "  
  
" _Yes,_ " Dean flushed at how quickly he'd spoken and how that was likely to sound to the archangel. " _Not that it's been bad being your vessel or anything-_ "  
  
" _Hush, Little One, I am not offended. You have taught me much in so short a span of time and I have come to understand what it means for you to allow me in and I thank you for it._ "  
  
" _Yeah, well, you've taught me quite a bit yourself, so I think we're even there._ "  
  
" _As you will._ "  
  
Michael didn't need to say anything aloud to let the other two archangels know what he was about to do, merely approaching Deirdre's inert body was enough. Dean's heart ached at the flare of emotions that crossed his lover's face and he already knew what the first thing was that he'd do as soon as he was in control of his own meatsuit.  
  
"Michael?" Raphael inquired, stepping forwards.  
  
"I promised Dean I would leave him while we waited for the blossom," Michael explained and Dean realized with a start that the other archangel hadn't been present for that part.  
  
Then Michael had them climbing onto the bed to lay down next to Deirdre and Dean shuddered at the vacant brown eyes staring dully past him into space. It was horrible to see his aunt reduced to this even if he'd been glad before that she was no longer in there when Michael was within her. He wondered briefly what exactly had happened to her and made a mental note to investigate it and ensure that she got a proper hunter's burial when this whole mess was over. If they won that is.  
  
" _What's this going to be like?_ " Dean asked as the archangel reached up to touch Deirdre's face.  
  
" _I do not know,_ " Michael responded.  
  
At least it was an honest answer and Dean braced himself as best he could for the unknown. At first it was like any of the other times that the archangel had used his Grace as it shifted and moved alongside him, but then things changed. He was abruptly torn from his connection with his meatsuit and he cried out in surprise. He felt rather than heard the apology as a bright pulse of the Grace just before he could start to feel Michael withdrawing. The Grace was no longer fully enveloping him, but rather slowly slipping away and he had to resist the impulse to reach out and grab hold of it and keep it with him. It was the same dread that he'd felt earlier at the thought of losing his new friend even though he knew that this was what he wanted and what he needed in order to be with his lover again.  
  
The clashing desires within Dean combined with the sensations of Michael departing to create a maelstrom of emotions within him that was nearly overwhelming. Then something seemed to snap back into place within him like an elastic band that had been stretched and was now released and not only did his feel his body once more, but he could feel it responding to his inadvertent commands, gasping for breath.  
  
"Dean!" Castiel cried out, clearly worried.  
  
The moment Dean felt that he sufficient control over his own meatsuit not to make a fool of himself, he reached up to grab hold of Castiel's shirt and pulled his angel down into a hungry, heated kiss. It took his lover a second or two to respond, clearly startled at the sudden action, but when Castiel did it was fierce and he found himself once more enfolded by an archangel.  
  
It was only the need for air that had Dean pulling back and burying his face against his angel's neck as he wanted to stay flush up against his lover for a very long time.  
  
"Dean."  
  
It wasn't until Castiel said his name that he realized he still had his eyes closed, just savoring the ability to move his own body, the tingling of his lips, the taste of his angel in his mouth and the smell of him. Dean opened them to look at his lover but then jerked back in surprise at what he saw before he leapt to his feet.  
  
"Dean?" Castiel questioned, voice filled with worry.  
  
"What is wrong?" Michael asked, suddenly at his side. "Are you hurt?"  
  
Dean turned wide eyes from his lover to his archangel and found that, yeah, he was seeing it there too. A quick glance to where Raphael stood confirmed that this wasn't isolated to just the angels he'd been close to, intimate with really though thinking that of Michael nearly made him squirm. Yet what else was he to call what they were now that he'd had the archangel  _inside_  of him?  
  
"What have you done to him?" Castiel demanded forcefully, spinning his older brother around to face him. "He trusted you! If you have hurt him, I swear that I'll-"  
  
"Cas, no, wait, stop," Dean interrupted hastily. "He didn't hurt me, I'm fine."  
  
A muscle twitched in his lover's jaw and it was with an effort that he let go of Michael. For his part, Dean was amazed that the other angel hadn't so much as lifted a finger towards Castiel. Yeah, it wasn't like either of them could easily cause the other serious harm, but still, he hadn't expected the older archangel to react so docilely either. Then he remembered what Michael had told him earlier, about not wanting to hurt his brother.  
  
"What is it then if you're fine?" Castiel questioned, suddenly back in his personal space again, hands touching him as if to check that he really was okay.  
  
Dean couldn't begrudge his lover his concern even though he knew he was probably being subjected to a Grace probe right about now in addition to the physical inspection. "Your wings."  
  
"What about my wings?"  
  
"I can still see them."  
  
Castiel froze in his ministrations and so did the other two archangels and the room was suddenly so quiet you could hear a pin drop and it was also completely fraught with tension.  
  
"What did you say?" Raphael finally demanded.  
  
"I can still see your wings, all of them," Dean replied and the silence stretched once more. "I take it that's not normal, then?"  
  
"No, Dean, it is not," Michael confirmed. "As far as I know, this has never happened to a vessel before."  
  
"Would you know if it had?"  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"Would you really know if it had happened to another vessel? I mean have you ever hung around long enough to find out or have you normally just flitted away, back to Heaven?"  
  
The quick glance Michael and Raphael exchanged answered his question. Yeah, that's what Dean had thought. Though he'd grown to quite like the oldest archangel, he really had been a colossal dick before.  
  
"No, we would have known," Raphael declared confidently.  
  
"What makes you say that?"  
  
"Because Michael would have felt the panic from his vessel if they had suddenly been able to view other angels' wings. The mere fact that it was connected to our kind would have been enough to activate the link between them."  
  
"Oh, okay."  
  
Well, so much for that theory. Which meant, of course, that this was something specific and unique to him again, wonderful. Dean averted his eyes from the others as he knew it was the only possible explanation given their reactions and he really didn't want to deal with that just now. The past few hours- days? he honestly had no clue how long Michael had been in him as they'd jumped so many time zones- had been more then stressful enough as it was and he was only just getting used to being alone in his meatsuit again (and desperately squashing the pang of loneliness that went with it) to have any desire whatsoever to think about it.  
  
Luckily the archangels seemed to understand this as none of them mentioned anything and his lover quietly ushered him towards a chair with a small smile when his stomach broke the silence by rumbling loudly. Christ but he was suddenly hungry! Dean wasn't sure where it suddenly came from as he'd been fine the moment before, but man could he suddenly empathize with what Jimmy had been feeling when the douchebags had forcefully yanked Castiel out of him all of those years ago. He dug into the food with gusto as the three archangels began discussing their strategy for the next few days and how best to perform the Rite.  
  
Dean let most of it wash over him, concentrating instead on his food and the warm, solid presence of his lover standing so close to him that there was no space between them. He took it as an invite to lean against him and to bask in the attention he was getting as Castiel's hands brushed through his hair and basically petted him, as if seeking reassurance of his own. By the time the food was all gone, he was no longer hungry but he didn't feel particularly full either, rather more like one felt between meals. Normal.  
  
He might have dozed a little, contented, but Dean woke up the moment that Michael and Raphael left. He took a moment to catch his bearings, but then he was on his feet, kissing his angel for all that he was worth. This time Castiel responded instantly, one hand cradling the back of his skull while the other ran down his back to pull them as close together as was possible. Somehow they made it over to the bed without any accidents despite not releasing each other for a second and his lover mojoed away their clothing even as they tumbled onto the bed. He had a brief thought for how much he loved that particular angelic skill, but it was quickly lost at the resulting skin to skin contact with his angel.  
  
Dean felt it the moment his lover started to shift them but instead of allowing himself to be rolled onto his back, he resisted. He knew it risked making Castiel think that he hadn't been completely honest with him earlier (today? yesterday?) when he'd said he hadn't minded the angel's sudden aggressive and dominant behavior, but he could deal with that later. For now, he needed to be in control. Yeah, he'd said yes to Michael and the archangel hadn't done anything to abuse his trust, but he'd still been essentially helpless and totally out of control. He just needed to be the one in charge right now, to decide what he did to and with his meatsuit.  
  
The irony that all of that was dependent on Castiel going along with him wasn't lost on Dean, but that was okay as this was his angel in a way Michael never could be even if he could see them becoming very close in their own way. As expected, his lover stopped the moment he resisted being rolled.  
  
"Dean?" Castiel questioned, breaking the kiss to look at him.  
  
Not quite able to verbalize what he was feeling, Dean simply leaned forward to resume kissing before he began to push his angel the other way. His lover allowed the movement and he was once again aware of the awe he'd felt at the start of their relationship that such a powerful being wanted to be with him and allowed him to take control. When he pulled back from the kiss, it was to find himself cocooned within Castiel's wings that had come up to wrap around him just shy of touching. It made his breath catch in his throat and caused a powerful swell of safety to rise within him. Lying here, sheltered within both the arms and wings of his angel, it was hard to think how he could come to any harm.  
  
"Have you always done that?" Dean asked.  
  
"Surround you or place them near you? Yes. But I have never done this before."  
  
As Castiel spoke, the wings came in closer and brushed Dean's back, making him jerk and moan at the soft caress. A part of him thought that he should be freaked out by the clearly nonhuman touch, but the rest of him loved it. The feathers were warm and so soft, a wonderful contrast to the hard muscles of his lover's body beneath him. Besides, he'd wanted to see these wings for so long that to finally be able to do not only that, but to be touched by them was pure bliss. He ground down against his angel and swallowed the resulting moan. As they moved together, he reached out and buried his hands in the feathers of the set of wings closest to him.  
  
The way his lover writhed beneath him in response made Dean smile and he tightened his grip experimentally, tugging lightly. Castiel's reaction was even fiercer and he pulled back to look at his angel as he did it again. Slowly he became aware of a rising odor and he frowned. It was what he'd long since come to recognize as his lover's scent, but it was far stronger than normal. Then his left hand touched something wet and he pulled it back, both startled and worried that he'd hurt his lover.  
  
"Cas?" Dean questioned, examining the faintly colored, slippery substance coating his fingers.  
  
His initial panic was already gone as it clearly wasn't blood, but Dean still didn't have the first to clue as to what exactly it was and whether or not it was normal. He had practically zero experience with wings after all.  
  
"It is alright," Castiel soothed, though his voice was strained.  
  
Dean frowned at his lover, noting how dilated his eyes were and how they seemed to be locked on his fingers. He moved his hand experimentally and yeah, Castiel was following it with his eyes. "What is it?"  
  
"Oil."  
  
"For your feathers?"  
  
"Yes, it protects them and..."  
  
"And what?"  
  
"And it can be used as a scent marker during matings."  
  
His own eyes instantly darted back to the oil on his fingers as Dean thought about that. "So basically this is going to make me smell like you? Tell other angels that we're together?"  
  
"Yes, exactly."  
  
The idea was far hotter then it had any right to be, but Dean had long since resigned himself to enjoying having Castiel's marks on him. "You been marking me all along?"  
  
"No!"  
  
The abrupt and fierce response brought Dean up short, startled. From the defensiveness in his lover's voice, he realized that Castiel thought he'd have been offended by the idea, but really he wasn't. It was just another type of marking like the handprint scar or the hickeys that his angel so loved to suck into his skin, though he appreciated his angel's reasoning and kissed him for the consideration.  
  
"I guess Michael's going to have to get used to me smelling like you then," Dean stated.  
  
Castiel growled in response, hands tightening on his body. "And me to you carrying his scent."  
  
Dean blinked. "What?"  
  
"You were his vessel, his receptacle, and thus possessed his wings and all that went with them."  
  
"Oh. Can't you just clean it off me?"  
  
"No, it will linger for a while on your skin until it fades on its own."  
  
Dean thought about that for a moment. "Then we'll just have to ensure that your, uh, scent is the strongest then, won't we?"  
  
It was clearly the right answer to give as his lover ran his wings over his back and Dean moaned, reaching down to take hold of both of them before he began to move once more. As they spiralled higher, Castiel guided his free hand behind his back to the base of his wings. There, he found several hard nubs that eagerly squirted more oil onto his fingers when touched. They also seemed to be extremely sensitive as his angel howled and came, writhing against him. He nearly followed him over the edge, but managed to hold back, not quite ready to come just yet. He wanted to do so buried deep within Castiel.  
  
The idea that came to Dean all of a sudden was so dirty and wrong that he already knew that to resist it was useless. Something must have shown on his face as his lover looked at him as intently as he could given his otherwise blissful expression.  
  
"Dean?" Castiel asked, breath hitching slightly.  
  
The fact that his angel had correctly identified his intent (even if he couldn't have figured out what exactly he meant to do) still managed to touch Dean after all of this time. Somehow, despite having been together for months now, the novelty of being in a long-term relationship where his lover knew him so damn well still hadn't worn off. At the same time, just thinking about how long they'd been together still caused a wild panic deep within him, the result of two horribly failed previous attempts at exactly this and all of the resulting pain they had brought with them washing over him once more.  
  
"Love you," Dean whispered against his lover's lips as he reached down with his oil-slicked hand to circle a finger around Castiel's hole.  
  
His angel's eyes widened in realization just as Dean slipped a finger inside. Then he focused on leaving his own, temporary marks on Castiel's throat as he prepared his lover. By the time he'd stretched him, his angel was hardening against him once more and he smiled into a kiss as he reached up and around to the oil nubs once more. The brief, careful prodding was enough to harden Castiel the rest of the way and he nearly came at the sensation of having his lover almost losing it beneath him. He quickly slicked up his cock with the oil he'd just gotten and wasted no time pressing into Castiel. It was torturous to wait once he'd bottomed out when all he wanted to do was pull out so he could thrust back into the welcoming heat and tightness, but he forced himself to wait until his lover was ready for him to do so.  
  
Once Castiel squeezed down on him, Dean began moving right away, claiming his lover roughly. The knowledge that there was not even artificial lube between them now, but rather his angel's own oil slicking the way was driving him mad. He reached down with his oil slick hand to grasp Castiel's cock and he began pumping it in time with his thrusts. Their rhythm grew increasingly frantic and he went crashing over the edge when the long feathers of one pair of his lover's wings came up to caress his chest and nipples while another pair tightened around his back.  
  
Dean remained on top of his lover for long enough to ensure that Castiel came as well before he slumped against his angel's side, cradled there by a cocoon of black feathers as he succumbed to sleep.  
  



	71. Chapter 70

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean learns more about Castiel's wings.

**PAST**  
  
  
Sleep left Dean slowly and he smiled contentedly as he knew exactly what that meant. He let himself come awake gradually, enjoying the warmth and blissfulness of an excellent night's sleep. When he became aware enough to sense his surroundings, it was to find himself cradled up against Castiel as usual, one of his angel's arms wrapped around his waist. He nuzzled the skin next to his face but didn't get an immediate reply. He stopped instantly, realizing that his lover was focusing on something in Heaven so much that he wasn't completely aware of what was happening down here. Oh, he knew that Castiel kept an eye out to make sure that nothing happened to them, but as his lover- mate?- he flew under the radar.  
  
It was something that Dean had discovered a while back when he'd woken up to find his lover essentially zoned out. He'd been worried at first, thinking that something bad had happened to him, but he'd learned better since then. It also didn't happen often, but he cherished those moments that it did. He'd quickly come to understand the fascination Castiel had with watching him sleep. His angel seemed to be completely relaxed in those instances and they provided a rare opportunity to observe his lover without Castiel noticing or being watched in return.  
  
He opened his eyes slowly so as not to be blinded should it be light out, but Dean quickly discovered that he needn't have bothered. Although Castiel had moved his wings during the night (was it? he really needed to figure out what day and time it was), some of them were still arched over them, cocooning them off from the rest of the room. Those were probably different wings from the ones that had been arched over them earlier as he was practically wrapped up in at least two pairs of wings, the feathers of which being the reason he was so warm as they'd never made it under the blankets and sheets earlier. And that also explained why the mattress felt so much softer then he remembered it as being.  
  
He was still more than a little amazed that these wings had been there all along and that he'd just been completely unable to see them. Dean had seen some of Michael and Raphael's pass through various objects in the room before they'd left and he'd witnessed Castiel's going through the bed when he'd rolled his lover, but they just felt so real and solid to him now. The thought had him lifting his hand up and off his angel's body to touch the feathers blanketing them. They were as soft as Michael's had been but now that he was paying attention, he could feel the slightest hum of  _something_. It wasn't too strong, in fact he could hardly even feel it, but it was definitely there if he concentrated on it. That he hadn't felt it before with Michael made him think that it must have something to do with him not being angelified right now.  
  
His earlier awe returned all at once and Dean felt his breath catch in his throat. He was touching an angel's  _wings_! He couldn't honestly say that it was something he'd always wanted to do as he'd never used to believe in angels, but he'd definitely been fascinated by the shadowy traces he'd glimpsed in that barn upon first meeting Castiel and that awe and fascination had only grown since they'd gotten together. He remembered only all too well his lover's words about how protective angels were of their wings and so he knew what a great honor it was that he'd been given here. He felt a little bad and guilty about how he'd simply assumed that he had the right to touch them earlier, but in all fairness, his angel had touched him with them first and Castiel was always trying to get him to accept his own worth. Still, he wasn't going to take the honor for granted either.  
  
His fingers stroked the feathers for a while, slowly acquainting himself with their texture and give. Dean then followed one back to the wing itself and lightly felt the webbed skin from which it grew. It didn't feel like normal skin and was, in fact, different from anything he'd ever felt before. He supposed it probably did much the same as skin, though, protecting what lay beneath. It was warm, soft and pliable though he didn't dare press too strongly for fear of hurting his lover. Castiel had said that they only allowed those they trusted near enough to touch their wings, which to him clearly implied that they were more fragile and vulnerable than the rest of an angel. Then he got to what felt like bone, deceptively thin and fragile, and he wondered if it was hollow like bird bones were. The thought started to bring back a memory from when he'd been a kid and Sammy had found an injured sparrow, but it quickly vanished as his questing fingers found what felt like another oil nub, only far smaller than the ones at the base of his angel's wings.  
  
The fact that it released liquid onto his fingers pretty much confirmed his guess and Dean pulled them back and just looked at the oil for a moment, rubbing it between his fingers. The thought of what he'd used it for brought a huge smile to his face. Given Castiel's reaction to what he'd done, he expected that he'd be able to stop buying lube from now on, well, if this was something angels produced constantly anyway. Not wanting to get up to find something to clean his hand with and figuring that it was wing oil after all, he rubbed it gently onto the feathers. The flaring of the wing beneath his hand was his first indication that his lover was back with him and he looked up to find a soft, open expression on Castiel's face that made his heart trip in his chest.  
  
"Is this okay?" Dean asked, stilling his fingers.  
  
"It is more than merely okay. For an angel, having one's wings groomed is a very pleasurable activity."  
  
"Pleasurable, huh?"  
  
An amused and tolerant expression crossed his lover's face before a kiss was pressed to his forehead. "Although it can be sexual as well, that is not what I meant. I believe it may be akin to a really good massage based on your reactions to those."  
  
"Oh, I see. You'll have to tell me what to do then."  
  
Castiel smiled again and Dean frowned. There was something to that smile, but he couldn't figure out what exactly. "What?"  
  
"Nothing. You are just a very generous and giving mate, Dean."  
  
"It's nothing special, besides you've been giving me massages for a while now."  
  
"It is something special and you would have offered even if there was nothing I could do in return."  
  
"That's why it's called being in a relationship, Cas, because you love and care for the other enough to do things just because you know that they'll like it, even if you get nothing out of it yourself and trust me, with this, I'm definitely getting something out of it."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Are you kidding me? Your wings are awesome!"  
  
Unexpectedly, the wings behind Dean flexed and he was drawn forward and into a kiss that he instantly reciprocated. His whole body was still warm and lazy and he knew that he hadn't been asleep for very long as he still felt partially sated. There was no further intent behind the kiss, instead it was just a lazy exploration and demonstration of affection. The wings that remained wrapped behind him, their feathers trailing softly over his skin, made him hum in contentment and reminded him of his task. Eventually he pulled away to pursue it.  
  
"Show me how to properly groom your wings, Cas."  
  
In reply, Castiel pulled away all but one of the wings that had been wrapped around his own body to reach Dean's, leaving in place those that were cradling him. That one his angel held up above them, stretched out. It was one of the smaller wings, but still more than long enough for him to reach comfortably without needing to relinquish his comfortable position up against his lover.  
  
"You need to start at the outer edge of the wing, at the bone," Castiel explained, placing Dean's hand there. "This is where the oil glands are located, so you will collect oil there to spread over the feathers as you groom them. Spread your fingers and run them down the wing, following the direction of the feathers."  
  
"Does going the other way hurt?"  
  
"No, it doesn't hurt, but it is quite uncomfortable and can significantly reduce the speed at which we can fly."  
  
Dean did as he was told, slowly letting his fingers card through the feathers, enjoying the simple feel of them even as his fingers grew slick with the oil once more. Although the wing hadn't seemed particularly messy to begin with, he could clearly see a difference with the feathers that he'd groomed as they appeared glossier than the rest.  
  
"Do you do this yourself normally?" Dean asked.  
  
"Yes."  
  
The moment that Dean felt some resistance, he stopped, trying to figure out what was wrong. "Cas?"  
  
"One of the feathers is most likely twisted and misaligned, you need to readjust its position so that it lies like the others."  
  
Obligingly, Castiel brought the wing a bit closer and Dean reached up with his other hand so he could brush the surrounding feathers aside for a better view. As his lover had thought, one of the feathers underneath the outer layer was twisted out of place. Gently, he shifted it so that it was in the right position once more before he continued on. It was a soothing task that he found he quite enjoyed doing, not only because it was so novel, but also because it allowed him to do something for his angel and he could see how much Castiel enjoyed it.  
  
As usual, when he got absorbed in a task, Dean lost track of time and it wasn't until his stomach growled that he realized how long he must have been at it. Somewhere along the line, he'd pulled himself into a seated position and his lover now laughed, sitting up and kissing him.  
  
"Why don't you shower while I go get you something to eat?" Castiel suggested.  
  
"But we're not done yet."  
  
"You can finish the rest later if you wish."  
  
"Yeah, I wish, I like doing it and your wings look so much better."  
  
"That is because it has been a long time since someone else groomed them for me."  
  
Dean frowned at that, not liking it in the least and he resolved to ensure that he did so on a regular basis from now on. Castiel deserved to be pampered for all that he'd done for him and this was such a simple thing to do, even if it took a while with all of the wings that his lover now possessed. Which reminded him.  
  
"How long was Michael in me?" Dean asked. "I totally lost track of time as he kept flying to different countries and all."  
  
"You were with Michael for just over a day and a half."  
  
"Oh, okay."  
  
Which meant that they had less than three days before Michael would need to take him as his vessel again. Dean was torn between fear at what it had felt like the first time for the archangel to do so and elation at the fact that they'd be joined again and he'd be able to feel Michael's Grace alongside his soul. It almost made him feel dirty to think that, like he was cheating on his lover with one of his angel's own brothers.  
  
"What is bothering you, Dean?" Castiel questioned, arms tightening around him.  
  
He huffed, amazed as always how attuned his lover seemed to be to his every mood these days. "Nothing. It's just that... well..."  
  
"Dean?"  
  
"I'm not quite sure how to put it. Being Michael's vessel, it's- it's quite intense."  
  
Castiel pulled him closer and Dean felt bad about bringing this up now, so soon after the archangel had left him. He knew the whole thing had been really hard for his lover, but he didn't have anyone else to talk to about it. Besides, he didn't  _want_  to talk to anyone else about this.  
  
"Michael is the first and, in all probability, the most powerful archangel," Castiel stated. "As such his Grace is far brighter and more all-encompassing than that of any other angel in all of Creation."  
  
"Don't I know it," Dean laughed shakily. "But it's not all bad, it's just that I don't know what to think of it all. Parts of it... parts of it weren't bad at all."  
  
"I am glad to hear that. I had feared that your being awake and aware might be more of a challenge and burden for you than simply being suppressed by my brother's Grace."  
  
"Maybe it would have been at that, but when have you ever known me to take the easy route, Cas?"  
  
"Never."  
  
"Damn right. Now, enough of this chick flick crap, I need to shower and you need to find me some breakfast or whatever the hell they're serving now."


	72. Chapter 71

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean fulfils his Christmas promise to Cas.

**PAST**  
  
  
"Okay, here we are," Dean said, turning off the engine and turning to look at his lover.  
  
Castiel looked petrified, or as petrified as Dean had ever seen him including that time he'd taken his angel to the brothel before facing Raphael. The expression nearly made him laugh, but he managed to bite it back just in time, not wanting to discourage his lover. This was going to be Castiel's first time driving after all and he got that angels didn't generally have to learn how to do things even if this particular angel had some experience with that as of late.  
  
"Maybe this is not such a good idea," Castiel stated, turning worried eyes towards him.  
  
"Nonsense, this is an awesome idea!"  
  
"But your car."  
  
As Castiel said it, his angel looked down and practically stroked the Impala's dashboard in a way that made Dean smile.  
  
"She'll be fine," Dean stated confidently. "Look around, we're in the middle of an empty parking lot with nothing to hit and no other cars around."  
  
"Except the lampposts."  
  
"Castiel."  
  
The use of his lover's full name worked as his angel looked back up at him with wide eyes. The genuine worry he could detect in those blue depths gave Dean pause.  
  
"Hey," Dean said, sliding across the bench so he could take Castiel's face in his hands. "It's okay."  
  
Dean gave his lover a quick kiss and he decided to change tactics. He'd try a different type of reason first and if that didn't work, he wasn't above being a bit sneaky and manipulative about it, not when he knew for sure that Castiel really wanted to learn how to drive. His angel had been excited about it at all other times like whenever he'd explained things.  
  
"Look, I taught Sam how to drive in the Impala and trust me, when it came to driving, the Sasquatch used to have two left feet," Dean said and caught the frown of confusion on his lover's face. "It means he was really bad at it."  
  
"Oh. Really?"  
  
"Yeah, he nearly gave me a heart attack on more than one occasion, but everything worked out in the end. Now, if Sam can do it with nothing, then I know that you can do it with everything you grabbed from my mind."  
  
"There is a difference between knowing and doing," Castiel argued.  
  
"Sure, but you already know more then any human would in this kind of scenario."  
  
That seemed to reach Castiel and Dean smiled encouragingly when his angel looked at him closely.  
  
"Very well, I shall give it a try."  
  
"Great, now I've got something for you that I made last night when you got called away," Dean stated as he reached into his pocket. "Here you go, your very own driver's license."  
  
Castiel took the card Dean handed him and looked at it with a confused frown. He had used the double of the photo he'd taken of his lover when he'd made him his FBI badge way back when. Luckily for them, Castiel hadn't aged a day since then.  
  
"Is something wrong?" Dean asked. "If you're going to drive, then you need to have a license just in case you get pulled over by the cops for any reason."  
  
"I would not break any laws of the road."  
  
"Oh we'll see about that, but you still need one as they just sometimes stop people randomly to check that they're wearing their seatbelts or possess a valid license."  
  
"I would not possess such a one."  
  
"That's okay, they'll never be able to tell this one's a fake. I've had a lot of practice forging these."  
  
"Can we not simply get me a real one?"  
  
"Nope, absolutely not."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"'Cause in order to do that, you'd need identification that you don't have and a home address which you don't have and all kinds of other things that we just don't have. Well, not unless I forge them, but that would just be defeating the whole point."  
  
"I see."  
  
Dean frowned as he observed his lover. Something else was going on here as well. "Cas, what is it?"  
  
"You put down Novak after my name."  
  
"Well, yeah, humans have at least two names and I figured Novak was something you'd remember easily if you ever needed to use it."  
  
"Then why did you not use Winchester?"  
  
"Winchester?" Dean repeated in surprise. "You want my name?"  
  
"It would have been made more sense."  
  
"Yeah, except for the part where it would have caused nothing but trouble. Look, Cas, I don't know how much of my past you're aware of, but Sam and I have gotten into much more than our fair share of legal trouble over the years. This peaked shortly before I went to Hell and while it's true that the FBI now think that Sam and I are dead, it'd just be asking for trouble to put Winchester on your driver's license when the only car you'd be driving is the Impala. You never know if we'd run across the one cop who remembers the old wanted posters or sketches of me."  
  
As had happened with Michael just the other day, Castiel's mood darkened at the mention of cops being after him and Dean smiled a little. To him it was kind of a given that he was seen as being on the wrong side of the law by cops and agents, that was just part and parcel of being a hunter, but for the angels in his life it was clearly an affront to the natural order of things. If only the world worked the way they sometimes thought it should. Although, on second thought, given some of the assumptions and opinions he'd heard angels confess to, perhaps it was actually a really, really,  _really_  good thing that it didn't.  
  
"I see," Castiel said tightly. "Then Novak will suffice as I have no wish to endanger you in any way."  
  
"Okay, great," Dean replied, not letting himself think too deeply on exactly why his lover's desire to be called Winchester had affected him so deeply. "Let's get started then. First off, we need to exchange places," he continued, reaching past his angel for the door handle.  
  
Before he could touch it, however, Castiel disappeared in a flutter of wings and Dean didn't need to turn around to know that his lover was now seated before the wheel. "Or we could do it your way," he stated with a smile.  
  
While Castiel familiarized himself with the various parts of the Impala needed to actually drive her, Dean shifted around so he was sitting with his back against the passenger side door. He hadn't been kidding with what he'd said earlier and he didn't truly anticipate needing to react quickly to intervene with something his lover did, unlike what had happened so frequently when Sam had been learning how to drive. His hardheaded brother had been absolutely convinced that he knew how to do everything better just because he and Dad disobeyed the rules of the road so often. God, his little brother really had been a know-it-all and a goody-two-shoes back then, hadn't he? And the worst thing as far as he was concerned was that Sam still truly believed himself to be that righteous and just even now after everything that he'd done. It was enough to make him feel sick these days. Self-righteous was more like it and he kinda hated how long it had taken him to come to see that. It was a failing of his own that he was determined to correct.  
  
It had taken Dean a painfully long time to come to that decision even after he'd come to see Sam as he really was instead of as how he'd always wanted his little brother to be, but he knew that it was the right one for him. Castiel had been correct when he'd said that part of the reason why Sam was able to hurt him over and over again was because he let his brother do that to him. He was constantly forgiving Sam far too easily and allowing him close again without ever demanding that his brother prove that he'd actually changed and thus he left himself wide open for the next betrayal whenever the mood or situation struck Sam as calling for it. Well that ended now. He didn't deserve that, not after everything he'd done for his brother over the years and most definitely not after everything that he'd sacrificed for Sam. He'd sold his fucking  _soul_  for Heaven's sake, surely that deserved some recognition and loyalty of his own at the  _very_  least!  
  
But no, not from Sam Winchester, holiest of the holy. Hell, though his brother had bitched and moaned about what Dean had done in the year leading up to his stint in Hell, his brother had practically treated it as his due afterwards, hardly even noticing that he was back at times. Instead Sam had followed his chosen path of revenge with a vengeance. And revenge for what? Not for him, he was now sure of that, because if it had been, then his brother would have eased off of it when he'd returned and been less enthused about the whole thing then Sam. What exactly had been driving his brother back then, he still wasn't fully sure, but he had the nasty feeling that that particular revelation was kept only just out of his reach by his own inability to fully accept it just yet. If that really was the case, then it would come on its own when the time was right, but he wasn't going to waste precious time chasing after it now, not when he had far better things to focus his attention on.  
  
The soft, caring look Castiel was giving him told Dean that his angel had at least guessed the nature of his preoccupation if not more. He shook his head slightly to indicate that he wasn't ready to talk about it and, not surprisingly with his lover but a miracle compared to the reaction he'd have gotten from Sam, Castiel dropped the issue for now.  
  
"Ready to give it a go?" Dean asked instead.  
  
The sudden return of nervousness told Dean that Castiel still wasn't as confident in his own abilities as he himself was, but he let it slide for now. Only experience would cure his lover of that and since Castiel was pulling out the key he'd given his angel at Christmas, he knew that his lover was about to get just that.  
  
"Talk me through it, Cas."  
  
"First I need to insert the key into the ignition while depressing the brake with my right foot," Castiel began. "Then I need to turn the key to start the engine."  
  
"Good so far."  
  
"Once that has been accomplished, I am required to put the Impala into drive from park, ensure that I have a good grip on the wheel and slowly ease my foot off of the brake."  
  
"Yep, excellent," Dean praised easily. "Why don't you try exactly that and get a feel for how she moves on her own without you touching the gas pedal just yet."  
  
After a moment's hesitation, his lover began to do just that with a nervous flutter of his feathers. The movement instantly drew Dean's eyes back to Castiel's wings and he winced once more at the sight of them protruding from the Impala's seats and out her sides. It wasn't that he was concerned for his baby, but rather that it looked uncomfortable as hell for his angel. Castiel had assured him earlier that it wasn't, that it felt like there was nothing there as far as his wings were concerned, but he couldn't help his instinctive reaction. Clearly it was going to take a while for him to get used to the incorporeal nature of angel wings when it came to anything other then his hands or another angel, even if he had first-hand experience with the complete lack of sensation from them when really they should have told him that they were being brushed up against furniture and other things.  
  
Pretty much as Dean had predicted, his lover gained confidence in his own driving skills quickly as he walked Castiel through a variety of exercises of increasing complexity. All too soon they were moving around the empty parking lot in complicated maneuvers and after a quick check that his lover had the most important rules of the road at the top of his mind, he told Castiel to hit the road. Half an hour after that, he felt confident enough to pull out his box of cassette tapes knowing that music wouldn't be too much of a distraction.  
  
"What do you want to listen to?" Dean asked, intensely curious for once about the answer to this particular question.  
  
Whenever he'd allowed Sam to drive, Dean had always dreaded this moment or outright avoided it as he just knew what kind of crap he'd be subjected to. Heck, the mere act of pulling out the box had always been a desperate ploy to get Sam to choose something that he actually liked enough to own a tape of instead of having the radio turned on to some shitty pop-rock station. Now, however, he really didn't have the first clue as to what to expect and it excited him. What was his lover's taste in music like?  
  
"What was the one you were playing last month when we hunted the wendigo?"  
  
"Led Zeppelin," Dean replied with a smile as he dug the tape in question out. "Good choice!"  
  



	73. Chapter 72

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael returns to take Dean in preparation for the Rite of Contressa.

**PAST**  
  
  
Dean slowly slid his hand under his pillow for the knife and the Jewel of Abel he kept hidden there. He hadn't woken as quickly as he normally would have if someone other than his lover entered the room and he briefly wondered if Castiel had inadvertently dulled his reactions, but he pushed it aside for later consideration. If he survived this that is. He couldn't decide whether to put on the Jewel of Abel or to grab the knife. Although he knew that  _something_  was in the room with him, he didn't yet know  _what_  it was and the Jewel only worked on angels as far as he knew.  
  
"Whatever you have under there will not be necessary, Little One."  
  
"Damnit, Michael!" Dean exclaimed, rolling over to glare up at the archangel as best he could given the bright light streaming into the room through the flimsy curtains. "Don't do that!"  
  
"It was not my intention to frighten you."  
  
"I wasn't scared and if you just show up in my room when I'm sleeping, you're going to wake me, so you should identify yourself right away."  
  
"My apologies."  
  
At least this explained why he hadn't gone right on alert as soon as Michael had arrived, Dean realized. On some level he must have recognized the archangel and known that he wasn't a threat. It was weird to have his subconscious give someone else that level of trust as it had only ever been his father, brother and eventually Bobby who'd had that distinction in the past. To have both Castiel and Michael added to that list in what was to him such a short period of time was a bit disconcerting. Not because he didn't trust them or anything, but rather because it forced him to confront exactly how much things were changing in his life.  
  
"Is something wrong?" Dean asked.  
  
"No, but Raphael will be able to collect the blossom shortly and I thought it best for us to join before he or Castiel arrive."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"As I mentioned before, it is necessary for us to have been together for a short while before performing the Rite of Contressa."  
  
"No, no, that I get, but why do you want to do it before Cas gets here?"  
  
"He has not spoken with you?" Michael inquired.  
  
"Spoken to me about what?"  
  
Although Dean asked the question, on some level he knew exactly what the archangel was talking about. It was part of why he'd distracted his lover the other day with the driving lesson as he'd never been any good at talking with people about emotional things. It might have been more than a bit cowardly of him, but he'd figured that by being with Castiel and doing things with his angel that he'd be able to prove that despite how difficult things might have been when Michael had first taken him as his vessel, that he was still himself and that everything was alright. But perhaps he should have tried harder and actually spoken with his lover even if he still had a hard time dealing with concern for his safety from someone other than family. Castiel deserved that much after all.  
  
Michael tilted his head and observed him. "Why do you pretend to be so much less intelligent then you are?"  
  
"Dude!" Dean scowled, searching for his jeans as he knew better than to expect an angel to give him some privacy. "You don't ask people questions like that."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"'Cause you just don't. Now give me five to shower and I'll be ready."  
  
"Angels do not need to shower."  
  
"Humans do," Dean replied before he realized what Michael meant. "Oh, just let me get dressed then."  
  
Not only did he not quite feel comfortable letting the archangel see him naked (stupid as that was really), but Dean also shuddered to think what Michael might deem appropriate clothing. Besides, he doubted his friend could even guess what was weather appropriate and he had no desire to draw unwanted attention to them for such a stupid thing, especially not when the archangel was liable to be doing plenty of others things to do precisely that all on his own anyway.  
  
Dean quickly pulled on the jeans and went in search of a shirt and over shirt before he pulled the knife and Jewel of Abel from under his pillow. Chances were that he wouldn't need them, what with Michael seemingly able to pull his sword from thin air like all angels, but he'd learned his lesson about always being armed decades ago and his lesson regarding the Jewel much more recently. Besides, it wasn't like the archangel would even feel the difference weight wise or anything. The knife went into its sheath at the back of his pants, while the Jewel went into a pocket of the jacket he then pulled on. He grabbed his wallet and cell just in case before he turned back to face the archangel who looked vaguely amused.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, laugh, but things will run a lot smoother like this then if I'd let you take care of all of that," Dean stated.  
  
"Of that I have no doubt. Are you prepared?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
He actually tried not to think about it too much as Dean knew that if he did, he'd tense up and his automatic defenses would kick in even if most of his experience as a vessel had been fine. Instead, he went to sit on the bed so Deirdre's meatsuit wouldn't fall to the floor when Michael left her. The archangel must have sensed his mood as Michael hadn't even fully seated himself before he was touching his forehead and the room started to fill with blinding light. He shut his eyes and concentrated on staying as relaxed as possible and he finally allowed himself to think about what he'd felt when the archangel had first left him.  
  
Either the thoughts helped or Michael hadn't been kidding about the original connection being the hardest, but Dean found it far easier this time around. The archangel's Grace seemed to slip inside easily, sliding around his soul and cradling it in what was already a familiar and comforting way. Even the disconnect with his meatsuit wasn't as bad this time and he was just starting to fully relax when suddenly he felt something pressing down on him, forcing him into darkness and pushing at the edge of his awareness. At first he restrained his automatic reaction and tried to just let it happen, but then he realized that it would knock him out if he let it and he lost his control.  
  
Acting completely on instinct now, Dean lashed out and fought to remain conscious. He wasn't even sure what it was that he was doing, but it seemed to be working as the pressure hadn't gotten any greater, so he kept at it. Eventually, the pressure started to ease and he became aware of his surroundings enough to realize that he- his soul- was tightly wrapped in Grace and that Michael was actively helping to draw him back. He allowed himself to relax and catch his breath (it really was amazing how he kept seeing himself as having a body even when he was just a soul) as he let the Grace flow around him.  
  
" _What the hell was that?_ " Dean demanded.  
  
" _I do not know,_ " Michael replied, sounding apologetic. " _The first time you went under at the start, so I believe it might be a consequence of the vessel claiming, my apologies._ "  
  
Dean grunted, knowing that there probably wasn't much Michael could do about it no matter how much he wished he could. He was just grateful for whatever fluke allowed him to remain fully conscious at all. He would happily take all of the other freaky shit just for that alone. The fight had left him feeling drained though and he was only just able to reach out and connect himself with his meatsuit enough to know what Michael was doing. As before, the archangel made sure that Deirdre was carefully laid out before seeming to settle down a little himself.  
  
" _How long before the others get here?_ " Dean asked.  
  
" _Raphael will be a few hours as he needs to wait for the moon to rise over the Hidden Valley and the blossom to open, but Castiel should appear soon. He was finishing something in Heaven when I contacted him._ "  
  
" _So we're just recuperating and waiting for them then?_ "  
  
" _Yes._ "  
  
" _So how about we do that outside then? It looks like it's sunny out and there's a park not too far from here._ "  
  
Dean couldn't remember the last time he'd just sat somewhere and enjoyed the good weather and, frankly, he missed it. Besides, it was a good way to just see people and that was good to remember exactly why they were fighting, something he was afraid they'd all need in the near future. Although they had this Rite to prevent Lucifer from taking a vessel, he wasn't stupid enough to think that was the end of it. Once the Devil had broken out of the cage, he knew Lucifer would do all that he could to counteract the Rite of Contressa and even assuming that the fallen angel didn't find anything, he wasn't stupid enough to think that Lucifer couldn't wreck serious havoc without a vessel.  
  
" _If you would like,_ " Michael replied.  
  
The short flight was far more comprehensible to Dean then all of the longer ones they'd done the last time. Whether that was because he already knew the route they were taking or because this flight wasn't nearly as fast as the previous ones, he wasn't sure, but this time he could more or less identify most of what he'd seen. The tips of the wings he could see at the edge of his visions had also captured his attention, something which the archangel had clearly noticed as Michael curled the right half of them in towards their body upon sitting down on a bench in the sun. He was endlessly fascinated by the feathers and the different hues in them, so different from Castiel's or even Michael's while in Deirdre.  
  
It was a sign of how much the struggle had taken out of him that Dean spent as long studying the wings as he did. He'd have asked Michael to touch them if it weren't for how crazy that would look to anyone watching them. The thought had him looking around at their surroundings. The archangel pulled his wings back and obligingly let his eyes drift about. As in the memory Michael had shared with him before, he was now able to see people's souls when he observed them. Unlike the last park, this one had a playground and the kids playing on it were, for the most part, bright with innocence and joy. They just watched them for a while, content to just recover in silence.  
  
It took Dean a surprisingly long time to notice how stiff and proper Michael was holding his meatsuit and he scowled.  
  
" _What is it, Little One?_ " Michael inquired.  
  
The small flash of humor and curiosity he got from the archangel let Dean know that Michael was genuinely interested and not asking in weary resignation as he might have done. After all, it had to be quite an adjustment for the archangel to go from being alone in a vessel, or at least not having a conscious vessel, to having to share emotions and occasionally thoughts with one.  
  
" _It has been nothing but a delight for which I can only thank Father,_ " Michael declared.  
  
" _Hey, no reading my mind. And nobody sits like this._ "  
  
" _Why not, it is proper posture._ "  
  
" _And when have you ever seen me or any other human do what is proper?_ "  
  
" _I have seen some do what is proper._ "  
  
" _Yeah, douches. And did they intrigue you the way I do?_ "  
  
" _No._ "  
  
" _Exactly, now if you don't want to make anyone suspicious, you need to relax and sit differently._ "  
  
" _What do I need to do?_ "  
  
The question surprised Dean and he actually had to think about it for a moment as it wasn't exactly something he normally did consciously.  
  
" _Okay, first lean back a bit,_ " Dean instructed and sighed when the archangel did it wrong. " _No, let your ass move forwards so it's near the edge of the seat. Yeah, that's it. Now, put one arm onto the back of the bench and let the other rest on our thighs._ "  
  
" _Like this?_ "  
  
It took Michael a few seconds to get the arm on the back right, but he seemed to hit some muscle memory or he caught the edge of what Dean was picturing as he suddenly got it exactly right.  
  
" _Yeah, now do something with your legs instead of keeping them together and perfectly angled like that. Either let them sprawl open or stretch them or something. Yeah, there, that's it. Now doesn't this feel much more comfortable?_ "  
  
" _No._ "  
  
Dean dropped his head and would have banged it on a table if there'd been one handy. " _Freaking angels._ "  
  
" _It is, however, familiar in an unusual manner. You sit like this often._ "  
  
" _Yeah, I do._ "  
  
" _Interesting._ "  
  
Despite the archangel's claim that it wasn't more comfortable, Dean noticed that Michael remained in the sprawl and he was thankful for it. Unlike their last little expedition together, this one was right in his backyard so to speak and he could and would most likely run into some of the people he saw now at some point in the near future. Though he definitely hoped that it wasn't that particular girl there. The wave of instinctive revulsion was so quick and so strong that it took him a moment or two to realize that the woman in question was a total knock-out and before he'd gotten together with Castiel he'd have been all over her in an instant.  
  
" _What the hell?_ " Dean demanded, totally confused.  
  
" _Her soul is horribly tainted and maimed,_ " Michael explained, his own repulsion obvious. " _Unless she repents and soon, she will damage it irreparably._ "  
  
The realization that she'd be going to Hell hit Dean hard and a few fragments of memory flashed before his eyes before he could stop them. Then he felt himself flooded with light as Michael's Grace tightened around his soul and almost seemed to  _stroke_  it. For once he didn't fight the embrace as he knew that this particular archangel knew exactly what it meant to be trapped down there with someone determined to do him harm. When he calmed somewhat, he could also tell that he wasn't the only one shaken by the flashbacks.  
  
" _Why does God tolerate Hell?_ " Dean asked. " _Most of the priests I've heard speak of Him say he's forgiving and just. The existence of Hell is neither of those._ "  
  
" _I do not know, Little One. Before I would have said that it was the necessary cost of free will, the just punishment for those who chose to commit evil._ "  
  
" _No one deserves that. No one._ "  
  
" _I am sure you would reconsider upon seeing some of the evil humanity has performed._ "  
  
" _No, they still don't deserve Hell. Punishment, definitely, but not Hell. Besides, what does it do in the end but create more evil? Demons aren't exactly mortal and can spend centuries tormenting the innocent and helpless._ "  
  
" _And the righteous,_ " Michael added. " _Like I said, before I would have been sure of my response, but now I cannot answer your question._ "  
  
For an angel to admit to something like that, let alone an archangel and let alone  _Michael_ , was huge Dean knew and he decided against the rant about God he kinda wanted to make. He supposed that the angels currently in his life weren't the only ones who'd learned things recently.  
  
"Dean! Yo, Winchester."  
  
Because he'd been focusing so intently on something else and hadn't expected to run into anyone he knew, the sudden sound of Roy's voice caught Dean completely off-guard and the memory of his and Sam's brutal deaths at the hands of Walt while Roy simply stood by flashed before his eyes. The next thing he knew, he could feel a wave of fury wash through Michael before the archangel's Grace coiled tightly within him.  
  
" _Mike, no!_ " Dean cried out.


	74. Chapter 73

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael and Dean argue about what they should do about Roy.

**PAST**  
  
  
Michael had only caught the memory that had flashed unbidden across his vessel's mind at the sound of the familiar voice, but the sheer betrayal that radiated from Dean, both now and in his recollection of the previous encounter, were more than enough to tell him that the hunter had once trusted this man. Trusted him and been betrayed by him. And not just any betrayal either, but one that had led to his vessel's death and, consequently, the experience of Heaven that had so warped Dean's opinion of his home.  
  
The rage had ignited within Michael immediately and the desire to smite the worthless human for his crimes followed swiftly after. His Grace had already stirred within him in preparation to do precisely that when Dean had cried out, clearly sensing his intention and disapproving of it. The urge to ignore his vessel was great. He could easily shove Dean back into his mind so that he didn't see any of it, but even as the thought occurred to him, he knew it was wrong and would be a blatant betrayal of the trust Dean had in him.  
  
" _Michael, please, don't do this._ "  
  
With an effort, Michael reigned himself in though it was more difficult to do then he'd like to admit. Not only did he feel far more strongly about Dean then he ever had for a previous vessel, but he'd already been struggling to suppress volatile emotions even before this human had shown up. It had started the moment he'd arrived in Dean's motel room and he'd been able to detect his younger brother's scent all over his vessel. Although he had known that the hunter was Castiel's mate, this had been the first time that Dean had smelled like it and his own reaction to it had caught him off-guard. He'd never have expected to feel the surge of possessiveness or the need to restake his own claim on his vessel. The unexpected emotions had been why he'd not immediately noticed that Dean had awakened and assumed that he was in danger upon detecting his presence.  
  
He had quickly tried to suppress the reactions, knowing them to be illogical, but it had been harder to do then Michael had thought it would be. He had known his brother and his vessel were mated long before Dean had said yes to him, allowing him inside, and it had not bothered him before once he'd seen that their bond was genuine and extremely strong. It even pulsed in the manner of angelic mate bonds but which those bonds between previous human-angel pairs had always lacked. Therefore he wasn't sure why it bothered him now as he'd never had any desire to interfere with a mated pair, let alone one that his Father seemed to approve of.  
  
" _Thanks,_ " Dean said, no doubt sensing the shift in his intentions.  
  
" _He stood by as you were slaughtered!_ " Michael thundered, anger still thrumming strong through his Grace.  
  
" _Yes, believe me, I know and I'd love to watch you smite him, but if we do that, then we're no better than him._ "  
  
" _It would not be the same. He attacked you in cold blood, this would be justice._ "  
  
" _An eye for an eye?_ " Dean questioned. " _We've got a saying about that here on Earth. An eye for an eye and the whole world goes blind. Besides, they were just doing what they thought was right. Sam_ did _break the final seal and since they didn't know about everything else, it looked like he'd opened the door to the end of the world for just for kicks._ "  
  
The sudden guilt that hit Michael was as unexpected as all of the other emotions he'd been experiencing today had been and he didn't like any of it. Despite that, he refused to shy away from the reality of the fact that what had happened had been partially his fault. He and Raphael had set in motion and helped along the sequence of events that had led the man and his partner to be in that motel room. And, what was worse, if he'd known that Dean was in Heaven at the time, he would have been pleased as he'd have seen it as the perfect opportunity to make his vessel see how foolish, childish and futile his continued resistance was.  
  
" _Besides,_ " Dean continued. " _He doesn't remember any of it._ "  
  
" _What?_ "  
  
" _Cas and I ran into Roy and Walt not too long and Cas wiped their memories of anything related to this whole mess._ "  
  
" _You asked him to do this,_ " Michael stated, having come to know his little brother well enough to know that Castiel would not have acted in such a restrained manner of his own accord. Not with what the man had done to Castiel's mate.  
  
" _Yeah._ "  
  
" _Why?_ "  
  
" _Because it was the right thing to do. We can't exactly afford to lose any hunters just now and despite all else, Roy is a damn good hunter. Shit's hitting the fan, Mike, and we're seeing all kinds of things that just shouldn't be possible._ "  
  
Michael didn't think that was entirely sufficient a reason to let the traitor live, but he could easily tell that Dean felt strongly about this and he doubted that he'd be able to change his vessel's mind in the short amount of time they had before the other hunter was beside them. And perhaps this wasn't one of those things about which he should be altering Dean's opinion. Dean was the Righteous Man after all and the only reason he himself was here, within his vessel, was because the Rite of Contressa demanded that his justice be tempered by Dean's righteousness. Perhaps this was one of the lessons his Father wanted him to learn.  
  
" _Very well, how would you have me handle this?_ "  
  
" _Say exactly what I tell you to and whatever happens, don't stiffen up again!_ "  
  
/  
  
Even as Dean watched Roy walk away, he couldn't quite believe that they'd just pulled that off. Sure, his former friend probably thought he was more than a little weird right now, but it hadn't been anything too bad and definitely nothing that Roy wouldn't probably just write off as him having lost it slightly after everything that he'd gone through and the fact that he was now alone (well as far as anyone else knew). He just hoped like hell that the man didn't run into Bobby or Sam and his new gang and started talking about seeing him on the road again. That would just throw a wrench into things. He was more than happy for everyone to think that he was still in Cicero with Lisa.  
  
Which reminded him, he hadn't gotten a call from Bobby in a while so either the old man had given up on him or he was starting to take a hint. Dean wasn't quite sure which of the two options he preferred really. On the one hand it hurt and was annoying to have to pretend that everything was just fine whenever Bobby called, to pretend that he didn't know about how badly they'd betrayed him. But on the other hand it also hurt to think that he'd been given up on entirely. Is this what would have happened if Lisa hadn't kicked him out? A slow dissolution of all of his old ties and connections? And was that seriously what they thought he'd really wanted after everything they had gone through together?  
  
" _What's wrong, Little One?_ " Michael inquired.  
  
His first impulse was to snap at the archangel and say that it was none of his business, but Dean managed to contain it at the last instant. Michael had just done him a huge favor after all and didn't deserve that kind of treatment from him.  
  
" _It's nothing, just some old shit that doesn't want to die off quietly._ "  
  
He was pretty sure that the archangel could tell that it was a bit more than that, but Michael humored him for now, settling himself back into the slouch Dean had talked him into earlier. He nearly laughed as he realized that, given enough time, it would become almost as mechanical to the archangel as his stiff, perfect posture was. Michael wasn't really relaxing into it so much as deliberately placing his meatsuit into a new and fixed position. Freaking angels.  
  
Slowly the tension from their little confrontation faded and Dean was able to focus on their surroundings once more. The number of kids on the playground had increased and it was with a start that he realized that it must be a weekend. He'd totally lost track of the days lately, not that it really mattered for him as the Apocalypse continued on regardless of what day of the week it was. He was already incredibly lucky that he'd been able to take some time off the past few days. If the chances of it jeopardizing the Rite hadn't been so high, he'd have gone after a new hunt instead of sticking in one place and continuing his research in-between bouts of relaxation in preparation for what they were going to do today.  
  
" _They are very violent,_ " Michael observed as they saw one of the toddlers hitting another toddler only to get kicked in return.  
  
" _They're kids,_ " Dean replied. " _They don't exactly have a sense of what's right or wrong just yet. Heck, they're completely unable to even imagine what it's like to be anyone but themselves at that age._ "  
  
" _This comes later?_ "  
  
" _For most people, yeah._ "  
  
It only took Dean one whiff of the Heavenly aroma that suddenly drifted their way when the wind changed for him to instantly recognize it for what it was. Pie. And damn good pie too if he were any judge.  
  
" _Dude, turn around and look behind us._ "  
  
Michael obliged him with a certain amount of bemusement and indulgence, but Dean didn't exactly care about that right now. All he needed to know was whether the ambrosial aroma was coming from a house or- Score! It was a shop, a bakery shop in point of fact, which meant that the pies were all but homemade, the best there was in his expert opinion.  
  
" _We need to get over there,_ " Dean stated.  
  
" _Why?_ "  
  
" _Why? Why? Because they've got pie, of course._ "  
  
" _We have no need of sustenance, Little One._ "  
  
" _Pie is_ not _sustenance!_ " Dean exclaimed offended. " _Pie is pie._ "  
  
" _That does not make sense. You cannot define a word using that very word._ "  
  
" _Not funny, Mikey. Pie can, and is, defined that way. Pie is special, pie is sacred and pie deserves to be treated differently. With respect._ "  
  
The bemusement and indulgence were growing stronger, but Dean just didn't care. Not if it got him pie.  
  
" _Regardless of its apparent near holy status, the fact remains that we do not require the consumption of it._ "  
  
" _Oh, come on,_ " Dean wheedled, not quite begging but he would if he had to, the smell alone was driving him nuts. " _Just a few slices? It's not like we're doing anything other then just waiting here for Cas and Raphael anyway._ "  
  
Michael sighed and Dean's lips twitched at the sign of just how much he'd already rubbed off on the archangel. Now if only he could just influence him a little more, to try a few other human things...  
  
" _You are not going to let this matter lie, are you?_ " Michael inquired.  
  
" _Nope. Dude, it's pie! Pie is worth making time for, let alone enjoying when you have nothing better to do than sit around and wait._ "  
  
If it were still possible, Dean would have jumped (and probably yelped though he'd deny that forevermore) at the abrupt fullness in his stomach that followed the sudden swirl of Grace within him.  
  
" _The hell?_ "  
  
" _There, you have your pie._ "  
  
Dean could only open and close his mouth, speechless as he processed exactly what had just happened. No way. Michael  _hadn't_  just done what he thought the archangel had done. Had he? No, he wouldn't have. And yet.  
  
" _Dude, did you just mojo pie into my stomach?_ "  
  
" _No, I minced it first, I know your food needs to be broken down before entering your stomach, Little One._ "  
  
He was speechless again, that was twice in less than a minute, Michael should feel proud of himself, Dean thought absently, because this hardly ever happened to him once, let alone twice in such rapid succession. He whimpered instead.  
  
" _What is wrong?_ "  
  
" _What's wrong?_ What's wrong? _Dude, you-_ " Dean began, cutting himself off, choking on his disbelief and sense of having been cheated out of a precious gift. " _I can't believe you. Honestly, that was- just- argh!_ "  
  
Then there was a flutter of wings and Castiel suddenly stood beside the bench, eyes instantly seeking out theirs and something flashed through them as his lover realized that Michael was once again inside of him. It seemed to ease a moment later when his angel saw that they were okay.  
  
"Castiel, Brother!" Michael sounded relieved to see the other angel. "Please tell me, why is Dean upset with me for having filled his stomach with pie after he requested it?"  
  
Castiel blinked once, twice, as he clearly tried to figure out what had happened, but then his lover's lips twitched upwards as a chuckle escaped him and, safely ensconced within Michael's Grace, Dean scowled. Traitor, he thought. He was definitely going to remember this incident and make his angel pay for it just as soon as Michael was safely back within Deirdre.  
  
"I believe Dean wished for you to consume the pie in the manner of humans instead of just filling him with it," Castiel informed his brother.  
  
Okay, now that just sounded wrong, though Dean did have to give his lover points for trying. Just not enough points to let him off the hook entirely. Not for laughing at him when he'd been cheated of his precious and much-deserved pie.  
  
"Why would he want that?"  
  
"Because it is the taste of the pie which he enjoys so much, not the actual nourishment he gains from it."  
  
"Oh."  
  
Dean could feel the obvious confusion of his angelic hitchhiker at this explanation and decided to take pity on him. Michael had tried after all, even if he'd done it completely wrong. He figured that he could meet him halfway. Concentrating, he pulled up the memory of the last homemade pie he'd had, ironically enough it had been during the middle of the whole zombie fiasco at Bobby's, and pushed it at the archangel. Michael accepted it and let himself sink into it and yeah, that would never grow any less weird.  
  
When the archangel surfaced from it a few minutes later, Dean could detect understanding and just a dash of wonder coming from Michael.  
  
" _I see now, I am sorry, it was not my intention to rob you of your pleasure._ "  
  
" _S'okay, I get it. You tried._ "  
  
" _Would you like to have some pie properly now?_ "  
  
" _Uh,_ " Dean hated to say no to pie, especially such awesome homemade pie as this, but he was full- absolutely, positively full- with it already. He really couldn't say that Michael hadn't tried to give him what he thought he'd wanted. " _Thanks, but I don't think I could fit another bite._ " The words had hardly left his mouth before there was another swirl of Grace and his stomach was empty once more. " _Dude!_ "  
  
" _Since you are letting me use your body, I believe you should get to enjoy the advantages of my presence, no?_ "  
  
Dean's eyes were wide as he realized what the archangel had just done and why. " _Mike, you're awesome!_ "  
  
The oddest sense of pleasure and joy reached him for a fraction of a second before it was gone and Dean's attention shifted to the heavenly pie suddenly before him.  
  
" _Do not blaspheme,_ " Michael scolded fondly.  
  
" _Just you wait until you've tried this! Then we'll see what you have to say about it._ "  
  
"Is he always like this with this type of dessert?" Michael questioned, looking up at his brother.  
  
"Yes," Castiel replied with an indulgent smile.


	75. Chapter 74

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael and Dean return to Stull Cemetery where Dean sees an angel's true form for the first time.

**PAST**  
  
  
As soon as they arrived at Stull Cemetery, Dean found himself nearly overwhelmed by memories both foreign and domestic, well, so to speak. It took him a few moments to realize that he was seeing events as Michael had seen them as well as how he'd seen them. The experience was disconcerting, to say the least, especially as the two seemed to bleed over into each other and he could see the archangel in Adam even as he could see himself in a way that he never had before. Jesus, but somehow he'd managed to look a hell of a lot less terrified then he'd felt that day.  
  
" _Mike!_ " Dean cried out.  
  
" _Sorry._ "  
  
Almost as quickly as it had begun, the parade of memories stopped. Dean felt himself relax a little and knew that he should be thankful for it as he doubted that he'd relax any further, not with what they were about to do or where they were. He couldn't believe that they were really back here again and were actually going to do this. Unbidden, the image of Sam falling into the cage along with Adam, Michael and Lucifer flashed before his eyes and he immediately felt the archangel stiffen alongside his soul.  
  
" _Sorry, sorry!_ " Dean exclaimed, feeling like a complete idiot.  
  
Of course Michael would be a little touchy about that particular memory. Dean knew only all too well what it felt like to enter Hell and it hadn't been his intention to bring that up. It was just so mind-boggling. To think that the last time he'd been here he'd never have even considered the possibility of saying yes to Michael and yet here he was now, playing vessel to that selfsame archangel.  
  
" _Father works in mysterious ways,_ " Michael stated.  
  
Dean merely snorted, not really wanting to get into that particular argument now of all times. Instead he tried to focus all of his attention on what they were about to do here and not let it stray to the one memory in particular that he never wanted to relive again. It was with a start that he realized that he'd been focusing so much on not thinking about that memory that the one about Sam's fate had wormed its way past his defenses. The realization caught him completely by surprise. It wasn't that he didn't think Castiel worth it, just that he'd feared his old habits would kick in and override his best intentions. He was infinitely pleased that they hadn't.  
  
" _How's the cage holding up?_ " Dean asked to distract himself.  
  
" _See for yourself, Little One._ "  
  
Michael directed their gaze at the ground and suddenly Dean could see  _beyond_  it. It was the weirdest thing as he could still very much see the grass and dirt that were present, but now he could also see further down. Into Hell itself. The vision had him flinching instinctively in remembered pain and horror and he quickly found himself soothed by pulsing Grace. He sent a silent thanks and focused back on what he was now seeing. Beyond the familiar, bleak landscape of Hell there was more and all of it was Light. It took him a few moments to decipher what he was seeing, but when he did, his breath caught in his throat.  
  
" _Is that... is that his true form?_ " Dean demanded, stunned.  
  
" _Yes it is._ "  
  
Inside a small cage made of Light, Intent and Will, there was Grace. Dean could do little more but stare in wonder and no little awe as he took in the sight. Despite all that Lucifer had done and become, his Grace was still a bright, shining thing, shifting and rippling, unconfined by a vessel of any sort. The details took a little longer to grasp as they were so different from what he was used to seeing, but they came to him slowly. The wings were the first thing to form in his eyes, perhaps because he was expecting them and was actively looking for them. Only now, instead of being feathered like he was used to, they were made up of pure Light and energy, more like Raphael's little display the first time he'd met the archangel, but even that was a far cry from what he was seeing now.  
  
The rest took Dean a little long to grasp, probably because it wasn't quite what he was expecting it to be. Lucifer was still vaguely humanoid from the neck on down, but above the neck however...  
  
" _In Heaven I have six wings and four faces, one of which is a lion._ "  
  
Zachariah's boastful words came back to Dean all of a sudden and the rest fell into place. Holy crap, but Lucifer had multiple faces! That's why he'd had so much trouble making out what he was seeing, the Devil's features were practically in constant motion, fluctuating from one form to the next with only the smallest of pauses in-between. He was vaguely aware that the rest of Lucifer seemed to shimmer with each transformation as well, but it remained pretty much as it was, not that he could really drag his eyes away from the fallen angel's faces. Just like Zachariah's words had implied, not all of the faces that crossed Lucifer's head were human, in fact only one seemed to be. The rest were animals, some were ones that he knew existed, while others were... something else. He wasn't even quite sure what.  
  
" _Is that-? Are you-?_ " Dean began haltingly, unable to form complete sentences. " _Michael?_ "  
  
" _Is that normal?_ " Michael asked for him. " _Yes. Our true forms are far more fluid then either your bodies or your souls, though the latter does possess the ability to shift and change even if most humans never learn that particular skill._ "  
  
" _Oh. How many faces do you guys have? Zach said four but I've seen more on Lucy here._ "  
  
" _It depends on the level of the angel, just like the number of wings is lesser for lesser angels. Zachariah had four, Castiel used to have just two, but now he has six like all archangels do._ "  
  
Six? His lover had  _six_  faces in his true form? The knowledge sent Dean for a loop, especially considering that most of them didn't appear to be human. Well, at least that was the case with Lucifer and he assumed it would be for Castiel as well. Instead of trying to deal with that particular information just now, Dean focused instead on identifying the Devil's faces. The easiest to pick out were the eagle and fox and he didn't even really need to think much about why God might have chosen to give those to his second archangel. Another was some kind of snake and if  _that_  wasn't ironic, he didn't know what was. He just didn't know why they hadn't all seen Lucifer's rebellion coming with that as one of his faces. Surely after the whole Garden of Eden thing it should have been a warning sign?  
  
The next face that Dean identified made him forget all about the snake. A monkey. After all of the derogatory monkey and mud monkey comments he'd heard from Uriel way back when it turned out that the Devil himself had a monkey face! Or was that perhaps why it had become a derogatory comment in the first place for angels? Regardless of which way around it was, that was just too funny. He'd be willing to bet quite a bit that Lucifer wasn't very pleased even if it turned out that the insult had come after he fell.  
  
" _What's the sixth face?_ " Dean asked, unable to identify it.  
  
It looked sort of... fishy. There really was no other way to describe it though it was most definitely not like any fish that he'd ever seen.  
  
" _Kraken._ "  
  
" _Those things are real?_ "  
  
" _All of your supposed mythical beings and creatures are real, Dean. I would have thought that you of all people would realize this._ "  
  
" _But- What about unicorns, fairies or dragons? Surely they're not real?_ "  
  
" _They all are. Raphael actually has a unicorn face._ "  
  
" _He- what?!_ "  
  
Raphael, a unicorn? Dean's mind pretty much refused to process that, not to mention the rest. Unicorns, fairies and dragons were real? Of course, he'd once been as adamant that angels weren't real, so at least he had some experience dealing with that feeling, but still. Unicorns and fairies and dragons! And if his mind was determined to tack on an 'Oh my!' to that thought, he resolutely ignored it.  
  
" _It is a physical manifestation of his healing gift,_ " Michael explained gently.  
  
" _Gift?_ "  
  
" _Many angels have particular gifts from Father, things they can do better than most other angels._ "  
  
" _Oh._ "  
  
Somehow Dean was starting to get an information overload headache, which really wasn't fair considering that he wasn't even in control of his own meatsuit just now. Life really sucked sometimes and whoever claimed that the world was fair should be dragged out back and shot. That would teach them real quick.  
  
" _What are your faces?_ " Dean asked, morbidly curious.  
  
" _Like Lucifer, one of my faces is what you would call humanoid and like Zachariah, another is a lion._ "  
  
" _Does that happen often? Duplicate faces?_ "  
  
" _You must remember that there are many angels, Little One, each with at least one animal face, so yes, there is some duplication._ "  
  
" _That why Zach was so proud of his lion face, 'cause you have it too?_ "  
  
" _That is possible,_ " Michael agreed. " _He was often guilty of the sin of pride._ "  
  
Dean snorted. " _Trust me, Mike, that wasn't the only sin he was guilty of._ "  
  
" _Yes, so it was._ "  
  
" _And the other faces?_ "  
  
" _A bull, dragon, thunderbird and bat._ "  
  
" _A bat?_ " Dean questioned, startled.  
  
" _All of Father's creatures are precious, whether they are large or small._ "  
  
" _Yeah, I guess, just surprised me, is all._ "  
  
And really, a bat? If it had been almost anyone else telling him that, Dean wouldn't have believed them, but not only did he know Michael wouldn't lie about this, but he could literally feel his pride of all of those forms. They were all him after all. He shook his head. This was going to take some getting used to. He'd never really given Zachariah's comment much thought before and now really wished that he had.  
  
" _Castiel's faces are-_ " Michael began.  
  
" _How about we leave that for later?_ " Dean quickly interrupted.  
  
He really didn't think that he could handle thinking about that just now. It wasn't that Dean didn't want to know- it was about his  _lover_  after all- but just, well, it was about his lover. Yes, he'd always known that Castiel was an angel and that he wasn't human, that he had a true form that was radically different from how he appeared, wearing Jimmy Novak (and crap, that was something else he'd always tried not to think too closely on!), but there was a difference between knowing it and seeing it. Or seeing another angel's true form as was the case here. Plus then there was the whole animal thing.  
  
His  _lover_  had  _animal_  faces.  
  
No, Dean just wasn't able to deal with that right now. Not when they were about to perform a really powerful ritual, on the outcome of which hung so much. He'd deal with it later, preferably when he was alone.  
  
" _Very well, Little One._ "  
  
Desperate to distract himself, Dean latched onto the odd wavering note in the archangel's voice. Now that he wasn't focused so completely on himself, he suddenly became aware of the raging conflict within Michael. It took him a moment to take stock of it- it was Grace after all and so very different from his own emotions, but he'd learned a lot about interpreting it already if he did say so himself- but when he recognized it, he felt the shock of familiarity rush through him. Michael really hadn't been kidding during their first meeting when he'd said that he didn't want to kill Lucifer. There was a maelstrom of love, anger, frustration, adoration, pain, resignation and more tearing away inside of the archangel and he was a bit afraid of being consumed by it all.  
  
Dean's first reaction was to try and soothe Michael, to tell him that everything would be okay or that he didn't need to do what the archangel thought that he did, but he couldn't. The fact of the matter was that it really was that bad and Michael really did need to do something serious about it. At this point he didn't think that permanently locking Lucifer up where he'd undergo torment for the rest of eternity or anything even close to that was really going to make Michael feel any better about the fact that he wasn't required to actually kill his little brother anymore. Instead he did his best to reach out with understanding and solidarity. They were in this together now, along with Castiel and Raphael.  
  
" _Thank you,_ " Michael replied after a moment.  
  
" _Is it always like that?_ " Dean asked after a few seconds of silence. " _Do you guys constantly shift through faces like that?_ "  
  
" _No, Lucifer has lost control due to his rage._ "  
  
" _Rage?_ "  
  
" _He can see us just as easily as we can see him at the moment._ "  
  
That startled Dean. " _He can see out of Hell?_ "  
  
" _Only because I am looking in, otherwise he is completely cut off._ "  
  
" _Oh, great! So now he knows that I said yes._ "  
  
" _It is most likely one of the reasons why he is so furious._ "  
  
" _I thought he wanted me to give in to you so that the two of you could have your grand fight._ "  
  
" _That was before, I doubt my brother would want to face me on such even terms now. Having been returned to his cage a second time will have altered his mood greatly._ "  
  
" _Oh that's just wonderful,_ " Dean muttered. " _So basically all we managed to do was piss him off?_ "  
  
" _No, you provided the opportunity for things to change, for us to meet properly and for the Rite of Contressa to be found._ "  
  
Dean did have to concede those points to Michael. He took another good look down into the cage seeing as his archangel was still staring resolutely down at his brother and he shuddered. They really needed to find something more effective than merely preventing Lucifer from taking a vessel.  
  
" _Okay, how about we start the Rite now?_ " Dean suggested.


	76. Chapter 75

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael and Dean begin the Rite of Contressa.

**PAST**  
  
  
Dean was a little startled to find how intently Castiel was watching them when Michael turned around to look at his brothers, but then he realized that it was his lover's way of not thinking about what had happened the last time they had been here. The realization was enough to allow the memory he'd been avoiding to rise to the surface and it was only with the help of a little nudge of Grace that he was able to shove it back down again.  
  
" _Thanks,_ " Dean acknowledged.  
  
" _I know enough of what happened to know that there are certain events from back then which I do not wish to witness,_ " Michael replied. " _It is as much my own selfish desire to avoid them as knowing that you do not wish to view that memory._ "  
  
" _Still, thanks._ "  
  
"Here," Raphael said, handing across the vial with Daniel Codman's blood. "Castiel and I shall begin mixing together the ingredients for the libation while you prepare the ground for the Rite."  
  
" _What?_ " Dean questioned.  
  
" _In order for the libation to be able to penetrate through to Hell and the cage, we must open a portal to it,_ " Michael explained.  
  
" _Open a portal? Won't that give Lucifer a chance to get out?_ "  
  
The mere thought was enough to make Dean almost panic. Yeah, he knew that the Devil was about to break free from his cage soon anyway, but he really didn't want to risk that happening any sooner than necessary! If the Rite of Contressa was going to give Lucifer that opportunity, then it was better if they didn't do this just yet but rather waited until the cage was almost entirely broken down anyway. He got that doing it that way would mean that he'd have to constantly be Michael's vessel for an unknown length of time, but he'd take that over risking the Devil's freedom now.  
  
" _Normally, yes, this would mean allowing things out as well as in, but not in this case,_ " Michael replied. " _That is why we needed for this blood to be a willing donation from a repentant sinner. Together with the first incantation it will make the portal one way only._ "  
  
" _That'll piss Lucy off._ "  
  
" _Yes, it will._ "  
  
Michael uncorked the vial and methodically poured a few drops on the ground at the cardinal points around the area of ground under which the cage lay. Dean could still see Lucifer below them as he followed his older brother's actions with suddenly narrowed eyes. The rage was still there as evidenced by the snarl like expression on the faces that could do so and the continued rapid changing between the different faces. It chilled him even as a part of him cheered at being able to piss the Devil off so much even indirectly. No matter how conflicted he felt about his brother right now, he would never forgive Lucifer for what he'd done to Sam.  
  
" _Am I right in understanding that this way of opening a portal is completely new to you?_ " Dean asked.  
  
" _Yes._ "  
  
" _So basically Lucy doesn't have the first clue as to what you're doing right now._ "  
  
" _That is correct._ "  
  
" _Does he know that you can't just fix the cage?_ "  
  
" _Yes. He was able to witness my desperate attempts to do so when Raphael pulled me free. The cage was in flux at that time and I know that some things leaked in due to the fact that certain things leaked out._ "  
  
" _Okay._ "  
  
All of that basically meant that Lucifer was probably very curious as to what they were up to even if he was wary at the same time. Dean kinda wished that he were in control of his meatsuit just now as he'd love to taunt the Devil given the situation, but then if he were in control of his meatsuit, he wouldn't be able to see the fallen archangel so, really, the point was mute. Plus then there was also the fact that a, not insignificant, part of him was loath to go antagonizing the being he could see below them. An archangel's true form was a scary and amazing thing. Seeing it easily brought back Castiel's words about exactly what an archangel was.  
  
" _Archangels are fierce. They're absolute. They're Heaven's most terrifying weapon._ "  
  
Castiel's tone of voice when he'd said that, so serious and just a little afraid, still struck a chord within Dean. It was also made highly ironic given the fact that his lover was now an archangel himself. Had Castiel ever stopped to think about that? About the fact that he was now rightly considered one of Heaven's most terrifying weapons? And, if so, what did he think about it given his previous misgivings about them? It was something he'd have to ask his angel at some point when they had the time.  
  
Dean pushed all of those types of thoughts aside as Michael pocketed the empty vial (and he made a mental note to remember to bin that as he doubted the archangel would) and stepped back. Michael then raised their hands and looked up at the sky for a moment before the archangel started chanting in a mix of Enochian and some other language that he'd never heard of before. It sounded ancient though, feeling weird as it tripped off his tongue with an ease and familiarity that he knew really shouldn't be there but nevertheless was due to his angelic hitchhiker.  
  
At first Dean couldn't see anything happening, but he could certainly feel it. He didn't know  _what_  it was precisely, but there was definitely prickling at the edge of his awareness, or rather at the edge of the archangel's awareness and he caught it by default. It was edgy and powerful, kinda like the feel in the air before a really big thunderstorm, only a thousand times stronger. Then Michael looked down and his breath caught in his throat at the shimmering energy that rippled across the ground in a latticework pattern between the blood droplets. It looked like the energy was alive, zapping around madly as if trying desperately to escape and he could  _feel_  it trying to do so as well, straining against Michael's grasp but failing to break free from his Grace's control.  
  
He had no idea how long his archangel fought to bring the energy under control, but when it finally did, Dean heaved a sigh of relief even as he caught sight of Lucifer once more. The Devil was now no longer standing still and watching them, but was now a blaze of power, battering at the Light, Intent and Will that made up his cage. The earlier fear and awe sprang to life within him once more as he watched. The fallen angel no longer appeared to be mostly humanoid but was now rather a mass of Light and Grace, shifting shape far too quickly for him to keep track of even with his archangel enhanced vision.  
  
" _Shit,_ " Dean muttered.  
  
" _I had always wondered if you truly comprehended an archangel's power and abilities whenever you resisted us,_ " Michael said. " _I have my answer now._ "  
  
Dean snorted. " _That's not exactly something that a human can possibly understand without seeing it._ "  
  
It was awesome and amazing and sickeningly awful all at once. There was wonderment and a terror so great Dean was sure that he'd never felt the likes of it before in his life, not even in Hell. Never had he been able to imagine a being so immensely powerful and to know that it hated  _him_  with a vengeance and would do its utmost best to make his life as miserable and painful as possible in ways that even he couldn't possibly imagine despite Alastair and all of his torture and games was enough to paralyze him.  
  
" _Shh,_ " Michael hushed, Grace soothing his soul. " _I shall not let him have you and neither will Castiel or Raphael. You are safe, Little One._ "  
  
The safety and warmth that cradled him were misleading, Dean knew, but he clung to them nonetheless. Michael had been honest when he'd said that he couldn't guarantee his safety before, but at the same time he knew that the archangel would do his utmost best to protect him if it ever came down to that type of situation. Besides, he had  _three_  such beings on his side, looking out for him. He really tried to focus on that; on the fact that all that he was seeing now, in that horrible cage down in Hell, was simply the fury of an archangel. An archangel just like Michael, Castiel and Raphael. Oh, sure, he knew that not all of them were equally powerful, but when it came to that kind of power, those minute differences really didn't make any difference. At least not when looking at it from a puny human's perspective.  
  
" _You are not puny, Dean,_ " Michael stated fiercely.  
  
" _Compared to you guys, I am._ "  
  
" _And yet you have managed to outmaneuver us all._ "  
  
Well, there was that, Dean had to admit. Great power wasn't of much use if one didn't have the opportunity to use it or one was too arrogant to do so. " _Only my playing on your sheer arrogance._ " For a moment he thought he'd gone a step too far, but then Michael's Grace seemed to almost sigh against his soul.  
  
" _Pride is a sin that too many of my brothers and sisters have indulged in as of late and one from which I myself have not been immune._ "  
  
With that, Michael turned them back around to look at Raphael and Castiel only to find the two looking at them.  
  
"We require the blessing you collected in order to complete the next step of the libation," Castiel stated.  
  
The large, cauldron-like thing that Castiel had gotten from God knew where was now bubbling away over a, no doubt Grace fuelled, green fire and Dean paused briefly to wonder when exactly his life had become so amazingly bizarre (even for a Winchester) that this whole situation didn't strike him as far more weird then it did. After all, seriously, here he was in a graveyard with no less then three archangels, concocting a potion that they were then going to pour down into Hell over the Devil himself while chanting an incantation to prevent Lucifer from slipping inside his brother, or anyone else for that matter, and wearing him to the prom like some prized suit.  
  
Yeah, someone could wake him up any time now, he was more than ready for this nightmare to end.  
  
" _You are not dreaming, Little One._ "  
  
" _Thanks, Mike, I really wasn't sure of that one,_ " Dean snarked.  
  
There was a brief pause. " _You are not being truthful._ "  
  
Dean couldn't help it, he laughed. Trust this particular archangel to be able to break the tension completely without meaning to by just being himself.  
  
" _It's like one of those figure of speech things,_ " Dean explained.  
  
" _I see._ "  
  
Whether or not Michael truly did understand, the archangel put it aside for now and Dean could feel him instead reaching deep within his Grace to where he had safely tucked away the blessing they had received from the little Belgian boy. As it had before, the blessing stirred a whole host of unexpected feelings within his soul even though Michael had taken care not to let it touch him as they didn't quite know what would happen then. There was love, awe, adoration and such a pure, unadulterated happiness that it nearly made him weep, especially when he found that he was completely unable to recall a time when he had felt that way himself. The last time that particular revelation had led to a sympathetic stroke from the archangel's Grace and this time was no different. He reciprocated the gesture and watched as Michael drew the blessing out of their meatsuit.  
  
It glowed softly in the palm of their hand and Michael held it aloof for a few seconds before drawing their hand away so that the blessing descended into the cauldron. Dean watched it go and it flared brightly as it touched the boiling potion. There was an odd, high pitched sound and then the libation was no longer boiling but was rather a serene liquid that shifted from a clear, colorless to a watery blue and back again.  
  
"Castiel, it is time," Michael said, looking up at his youngest brother.  
  
Dean felt a pang of protest within him as he realized that his lover would need to pluck one of his own feathers, but he quickly suppressed it. Not only had Castiel known this would be needed going in, but he really didn't want to feel himself doing the deed even if he logically knew that it would actually be Michael doing it. Either way, it would feel to him like he was the only doing it and it seemed totally wrong to do that to one of his lover's magnificent wings. The quick look of pain that crossed his lover's face when Castiel pulled a feather proved that it hurt and he wanted to reach out and soothe the wing, but he tried to reign that in as well. He knew that the upcoming part of the Rite would be the most challenging for Michael and he really didn't want to add to the archangel's burdens just now.  
  
After the feather went in, there were only a few more ingredients left and the libation was ready within half an hour. The last thing to go in was the blossom from the Hidden Valley and Dean watched in amazement as it seemed to almost drain of color before seeming to vanish by blending into the potion. He knew that he didn't have the best grasp of witchcraft or potion making in general, but he really didn't think that was normal, though that was probably a good thing. The further from normal this whole thing was, the less likely that Lucifer would find a way to break the Rite of Contressa anytime soon.  
  
By now the sun was fading and it was rapidly approaching dusk, which was a good thing, Dean knew as the archangels had believed that dusk would be the optimum time to perform the Rite. Something about the alignment of the stars and the libation's key ingredients or some such gobbledygook, he really didn't know what precisely, just that dusk had been best.  
  
" _You could understand if you but tried to,_ " Michael stated.  
  
" _Nah, Sammy's the smart one when-_ "  
  
" _You are not stupid, Dean Winchester!_ "  
  
" _Whoa, whoa, don't get your panties in a twist there Mike,_ " Dean replied, startled. " _I'm just saying that this stuff's not really my thing._ "  
  
" _You do not need to pretend with me and most especially not with Castiel, we will not judge you and you may be surprised at what you can do when you truly try._ "  
  
That sounded suspiciously like a chick flick moment right there and Dean shifted uncomfortably within the archangel's Grace. He hadn't meant to put his foot into it there and he wasn't entirely sure just how he'd done so even though it was quite clear that he had. Luckily for him, the timing of the Rite seemed to take precedence over whatever issue Michael had with what he'd said and instead he just watched in bemusement as the archangel wearing his meatsuit lifted the heavy cauldron as if it were nothing.  
  
Raphael and Castiel remained where they were as Michael returned them to the ground marked off with the blood and energy. Dean winced as he stopped to think about that and he was glad that the FBI now thought him dead as he had absolutely no idea what they'd make of this scene if they were to come across it in a few days time. The thought of anyone poking around what was, in essence at least if not truly reality, so close to Lucifer's cage quickly took any humor out of the situation and he carefully blanked his mind instead.  
  
There was a brief flare of reluctance from Michael as they stood at the edge of the portal and Dean managed to keep his mouth shut for once. There was no doubt in his mind as to the archangel's commitment to this task and he could more than understand the anguish that he was going through right now, being forced into this position and having to perform something like the Rite of Contressa on a little brother. Although he remained silent, he did reach out with his soul and attempted to convey solidarity, understanding and compassion. He hoped it worked, but either way, something seemed to spur Michael into action once more.  
  
Without another moment's delay, the first angel created started chanting in Enochian and the other language from earlier. It was kinda mesmerizing and Dean found himself drawn in by it, lulled into a semi-hypnotic state where he became even more fully aware of his own meatsuit then normal while sharing it with Michael in addition to feeling the archangel's Grace more acutely. Part of him was aware enough of what was going on to be surprised that he didn't panic, but he didn't feel threatened, just closer to Michael then he had before. His own thoughts about why Lucifer couldn't be free to roam the Earth in a vessel started to rise to the top of his mind and he let them, not resisting the process at all.  
  
When Michael reached a set point in the chant, the archangel began pouring the libation down through the portal and into the cage, over Lucifer's true form. Dean felt pleased when he saw the Devil snarl and fight even more, but the fallen angel was unable to avoid the libation as Michael followed him around his cage as Lucifer moved within its small confines. When the libation was gone, the cauldron was tossed aside and Michael sped up the chant.  
  
The sudden, shocking pain that tore through Dean was as unexpected as it was brutal and he screamed before he could stop himself, hearing Michael echo his cries. It was a pain he was intimately acquainted with and he knew that they'd been run through with something even before Michael lowered their eyes and he saw the blood coated point of an archangel blade protruding from their chest.


	77. Chapter 76

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Michael deal with the consequences of being attacked.

**PAST**

  
Vaguely Dean was aware of Lucifer's triumphant expression down in the cage even as the archangel dripped with the libation, but it vanished as Michael shifted and pain shot through them once more. He let out a wordless little noise of agony as he felt his meatsuit move around the blade within him, tearing more in the process and then they were looking into the harshly beautiful face of a young woman with fire, malice and hatred in her eyes.

"Did you think it would be that easy, Brother?" she demanded in heavily accented Enochian.

"Simiel," Michael breathed mentally, voice thick with pain.

Dean felt the shock of recognition shoot through him but before he could do or say anything, there was a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye and then tearing agony as the blade was ripped from inside of them. Distantly, he heard the clash of metal on metal, but all of his attention was on the searing pain and fact that they were falling towards the portal. Lucifer's expression was exuberant now as he clearly awaited their fall into his cage. Terror was just starting to shoot through him as well when their forward momentum was abruptly, and painfully, halted.

"Michael," Castiel began, voice urgent as he pulled them back. "Dean. Michael, is Dean still there? Is he hurt?"

The pain vanished as unexpectedly as it had arrived and it would have sent Dean stumbling if he still had control of his meatsuit. What the hell? The thought was partially derailed by the raw anguish and molten fury he saw mixing in his lover's eyes and he wanted nothing more than to reach out and comfort Castiel, to reassure him that everything would be okay even if he had absolutely no way of knowing that. If he'd been human, the wound would have been almost instantly fatal, but as it was he was an angel and therefore still clinging to life though even he knew how bad of a wound it still was for them.

Their view suddenly shifted as Michael looked past Castiel towards where Raphael and Simiel were fighting. Dean nearly cried out, wanting to see more of his lover but found himself captivated by the sight of a woman nearly half Raphael's size forcing the archangel back on the defensive. Michael looked at Castiel again only to indicate the other two with his eyes, clearly wanting his younger brother to go help Raphael. Dean himself was torn, he could plainly see that Raphael needed the help but just the memory of the agony made him want to cling to his lover as he knew that the wound wouldn't go away as easily as the pain had.

"Michael-" Castiel began.

"Go!" Michael ordered and it took Dean a moment to figure out that the archangel had used a mental link to his angel.

With another brief second's hesitation, Castiel went, flying into the fight, his own sword raised. The brief glimpse that Dean caught of his lover's expression was fierce and terrifying and he knew that Castiel was about to unleash all of the fury he'd seen in those blue eyes earlier onto Simiel with a vengeance.

"Michael?" Dean questioned softly.

"We need to complete the Rite."

"It's not been ruined?"

"A cry does not count as part of these types of incantations and thus nothing has been ruined yet."

Well, that at least explained why the archangel had spoken to Castiel mentally instead of physically, but Dean was still left with more questions then he had answers to. The slow, careful way that Michael was moving spoke volumes for the pain he was still in and was a clear indication that the wound had not yet been healed. Although he desperately wanted to know why, it wasn't their most pressing issue at the moment. If Michael had been able to do so, then he was sure that the archangel would have done it already. No, what was more concerning was the fact that they were practically wobbling as they knelt at the edge of the portal once more. He didn't need to be a genius to know that this couldn't end well.

"What did you do, Michael?" Dean demanded. "Why can't I feel anything?"

"I have cut you off from the pain. There is no need for you to suffer."

Although Dean appreciated the sentiment on more than one level- how often had people simply told him to suck it up in the past instead of trying to help?- he wasn't stupid and knew that the effort had to be costing Michael. Effort that they could ill afford at the moment.

"Stop it."

"Little One?"

"I'm a big boy, Mike, I can handle it. Thirty years in Hell as Alastair's personal plaything, remember?"

"Dean-"

"Damnit, Michael, focus your energy where it's really needed!"

For half a second, Dean thought that the archangel would fight him on it, but then he felt foreign resignation ripple through him.

"Fine," Michael replied. "Are you ready for it?"

"No, but that doesn't matter. Do it."

When the pain hit him once more, it almost seemed worse than before, but this time Dean managed to contain his cries. At least the first time he hadn't been expecting it and thus hadn't been braced for it, which inevitably made it worse every single time. He was no stranger to pain though and instead he closed his mental eyes for a moment and simply breathed through the agony for a few seconds before firmly shoving it aside. He could already feel that it had helped Michael to not block it from him and he sent a silent reassurance that he was okay so the archangel would continue the Rite.

It took Michael a few moments to pull himself together once more and Dean took that time to let himself sink as far back into the mindset of the Rite as best he could remember it. He knew that he'd never be able to reach the exact state he'd been in on his own, but he focused his thoughts on what he'd been thinking and hoped like hell that it would be enough. There was a bad moment just as the archangel was about to start chanting once more when they discovered that there was blood in their mouth and lungs that had to be coughed out, but they both did their best to ignore it and what it meant. When Michael finally did start the incantation up again, he felt the same hypnotic pull as before, drawing him closer to the archangel's Grace. The agony became far more acute the closer he and Michael merged, but he forced himself to take it and to let his thoughts fill with exactly why he didn't want Lucifer roaming free with a vessel. It seemed to be working and the Devil's ever-increasing agitation below them definitely helped to urge him on.

Distantly the thought that some good could come from his years spent on the rack and Alastair's incessant torture spurred Dean on and he braced himself as he could feel something stirring around them. It bogged the very air down, making it heavy, thick and static in a way he recognized from Dark Arts spells, but then he realized that that was pretty much the extent of his exposure to magic and thus it could be a feature of all spells, whether Light or Dark, and he wouldn't really know, so he just went with it. Michael would know if things were going wrong and since the archangel simply continued chanting, he figured that it had to be okay.

There were sounds of rage behind them now and Dean realized with a start that the fight between the other three archangels had moved around behind them and a brief fissure of fear shot through him. That was how their trouble had begun, with Simiel behind them, but this was different. He knew it and tried to force the fear from his mind. Simiel must have appeared far too close to them for Castiel and Raphael to stop her from hurting them. Now that they knew she was there, that wouldn't happen again. He knew that for a fact as far as his lover was concerned and he could feel Michael's certainty on the issue regarding Raphael.

The air was all but cracking with lightning by the time the spell reached its crescendo and Michael uttered the final words of the incantation, still a hopeless mix of Enochian and that other strange language. For one brief, horrible second, nothing happened before Light and pain seemed to fairly explode around them. He could feel the lightning and power ripping at them, all but tearing their wound open wider and Dean clung desperately to Michael's Grace as he felt it tugging at him. It took him a few seconds to realize that it wasn't trying to drag him away but was rather drawing strength and something else that he didn't recognize from his soul, feeding from it but in a way that didn't make him feel afraid it was going to consume him. Well, at least not once he'd calmed down from the initial spike of panic.

Christ but he hated all this soul stuff. It was so unbelievably overwhelming and complicated that he was more than ready to not ever have to deal with it again. Briefly Dean wished for back when he hadn't even really believed in the existence of souls. Those had been much simpler times.

The power, Light and lightning vanished as quickly as they'd arrived and Dean would have been at a loss as to what had happened if Michael hadn't been looking down into the cage. Lucifer was back to screaming in impotent rage as the lightning flashed all around him, seeming to ignite the libation that still covered him and engulfing him in purple flame. His instinctive wince proved to be in vain as it became immediately obvious that this was not a normal fire as it failed to actually ignite Lucifer's Grace, though it was clearly doing something. Something painful and he took far too much pleasure from that.

"Dean," Michael admonished as they sagged at the edge of the portal.

"What?" Dean demanded defensively. "He deserved it."

There was another clash of metal on metal behind them, or at least it sounded similar enough for that to be the first thing to come to mind for Dean, and fear of a different kind shot through him, completely obliterating the pain.

"Cas!"

Before Michael could even begin to move them, and Dean did feel his intention to do precisely that, there was the flutter of wings followed by an angry exclamation from Raphael. Then there was another flutter of wings and there were hands on them and he relaxed instantly, recognizing his lover's touch even before Michael realized it was his brother and not his sister.

"Michael?" Castiel questioned.

Dean instantly hated the fearful, almost desperate, quality to his lover's voice and wanted nothing more than to be able to reach out and soothe it away, but he couldn't and it chafed. His soul moved restlessly within the gentle embrace of Michael's Grace and he knew on some level that he was probably not helping matters, but he couldn't help it, not when his angel so obviously needed him. It brought out all the worst aspects of being a conscious vessel and those had been from before they'd been injured.

"I am sorry, Little One," Michael whispered.

"So not your fault," Dean replied a little guiltily, but still he couldn't reign himself in completely.

"Dean is still here, Brother," Michael said aloud, though his voice was soft and weak.

It brought back the memory of earlier and Dean could still feel blood running down the inside of his lungs where it had no right being. The combined effort of the earlier chanting and the talking now prompted another round of coughing and he felt the wet rattle of blood coming up once more. Castiel's face grew more alarmed as he caught sight of it but before he could do anything, Raphael appeared by their side, looking more concerned and just all around more emotional than he'd ever seen the archangel appear. Without a word, Raphael reached out and place a hand on their chest, right over the wound and suddenly warmth started to flow through them, lessening the pain immediately.

The relief caused Dean to sag a little and he managed to stop his incessant movements as he saw Castiel relax a bit as well. It wasn't the instant healing that he'd experienced or witnessed at the hands of angels before, but it was enough to make a significant difference and that allowed him to start focusing his attention on other things. After all, he'd become very good at tuning out pain in Hell.

"Why can't you just heal us, Mike?"

"Because Simiel used her archangel blade which wounds our very Grace. It is one of the few weapons that can truly damage us, if it does not kill us that is."

"Great."

At least they had a healer on their side. The thought forced Dean to look at Raphael again who now had his eyes closed in concentration as he worked. He supposed that he'd owe the archangel after this and he wasn't quite sure how he felt about that. Though, if he were honest with himself, the fact that it hadn't even crossed his mind that Raphael might be responsible for the attack on them before he'd caught sight of Simiel pretty much proved that he'd come to accept that the archangel was on their side subconsciously, now he just had to catch up on a conscious level and that just sucked as it meant being nicer to the bastard.

Michael huffed a pained laugh, but Dean thought it was worth it to feel his Grace ripple around him, even if he was slightly pissed at having his thoughts read. "Dude, not cool!"

"I can hardly control myself just now, Little One."

"Excuses."

"What is it?" Castiel demanded, confused.

"Your mate is amusing," Michael replied. "So very human."

"That's 'cause I am human," Dean snarked, giving the Grace closest to him a good poke though he doubted it was up to his usual standards.

Castiel's lips twitched slightly and it cheered Dean to see it. Given the results, he found that he was already forgiving Michael his little trespass.

"How magnanimous of you."

"Can it, Mikey."

"Speaking of human," Castiel said, his hand running down their body towards the wound but seeming unable to bring himself to actually touch it. "Did you block his pain?"

Michael sighed and Dean couldn't help but feel a ripple of pride at how human the archangel already was at times and he knew that it was entirely due to his influence.

"I tried," Michael stated.

The words seemed to be all Castiel needed to figure out what had happened as his face took on a resigned look. "Stupid human pride."

"Hey!" Dean protested, unheard by his lover.

"He is always trying to pretend that he can take it, not understanding that he doesn't have to."

"It did make it easier for me to complete the Rite of Contressa," Michael admitted. " I might not have been able to do so while focusing on something else."

"And now?"

"Don't you even think about it, Michael!" Dean hissed. "We're in this together and it's my body."

Though Dean didn't feel the expression on his meatsuit's face change, the archangel must have conveyed his response to Castiel somehow as his lover's expression turned to one of resignation. It wasn't that he wanted to feel the pain, but rather that he didn't like being so completely cut off from an integral part of himself. Yes, he logically knew that his meatsuit was almost more of a temporary housing for his soul- how could he not have learned that by now?- but it still meant far more than that to him at the moment. It was his ticket to life on Earth and all that he'd known for the happier portion of his life even if it was no longer the longer portion of it.

"How grave is it, Raphael?" Castiel questioned.

"Quite severe, though I have stabilized them enough to return to the motel."

"Can we separate them there?"

"Not immediately, no. Even if Michael were strong enough to change vessels, they are connected far deeper then I have ever seen before, almost fused in places," Raphael replied with a frown.

"The Rite," Michael forced out and Dean felt how alien the sensation of being so weak was to the archangel. "It brought us closer together."

"Can you still separate?"

"Yes, but it will be harder than before."

"We should go, I shall carry you," Castiel stated, already shifting them as gently as possible so he could lift them.

It never failed to amaze Dean how strong his lover was, though this time he was distracted by the feeling of Michael's wings brushing against Castiel as he was so used to them just going through everything.

"Portal," Michael reminded them.

Raphael turned towards the cage and Dean heard him start to say something, but all of his attention was focused on how Castiel cradled them close before flying back to his motel room.


	78. Chapter 77

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam undergoes the first of the cleansing spells.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
Sam's stomach growled loudly as he came out of the bathroom and he scowled. He'd been fasting for forty-eight hours now and he'd had absolutely nothing but water and it was really starting to get to him. The worst times were inevitably when the others left for food, taking turns to go so that he wouldn't be all alone with the knowledge that they were together, eating. Although on some level he was touched by their forethought, he also couldn't help but wonder if perhaps they didn't trust him not to gorge himself while they were gone. Which was totally ridiculous, he could bear a little fast like this, it was hardly anything compared to what he'd suffered down in Hell.  
  
"Ready?" Bobby asked as he looked up.  
  
"Yeah," Sam replied.  
  
While he'd been showering, the others had shoved the beds and other furniture in the room to the side leaving a large space in the middle free. Various symbols had been drawn on the carpet and Sam had a brief thought of how pissed the motel owner would be when this was found after they left, but then he shrugged it off. They should have charged a security deposit if they wanted to prevent this kind of damage. He did make a note to keep the  _do not disturb_  sign up until they left, though, as he really just didn't want to deal with the headache this would cause otherwise.  
  
"Well, you've got the place of honor then," Christian joked with a grand sweeping gesture.  
  
Sam merely scowled at his cousin as he stepped past Christian to kneel in the center of the symbols. As he glanced up, he caught the furtive, assessing glance Gwen sent his way and he suppressed a quick smile. He'd been working out more lately and it was more then obvious now that he wasn't wearing a shirt and, cousin or not, he couldn't help but feel proud at having caught Gwen's eye like that if even just fleetingly. It definitely beat the 'delicate features' and 'pretty' comments that Dean's photo had earned his brother.  
  
The thought of Dean darkened Sam's mood instantly. What the hell did his brother think he was playing at, not immediately telling them that the Apocalypse was still ongoing? Had Dean really thought that he and his pet angels could stop it? Even if it had just been Castiel, his brother should have known that was madness, but to add Michael and Raphael to that of all angels? That was just downright insane, even for his big brother and it told him that something wasn't right. Despite all of the crazy, crazy shit Dean had pulled over the years, this was too far, which clearly meant that something wasn't kosher. He just didn't get why Bobby didn't, or couldn't, see it. They must have done something to his big brother to get him to go along with them like this and then managed to twist Dean around enough to turn him against his own family.  
  
It was almost like grooming, Sam realized with a start. Not sexual of course (and even he could admit how ridiculous that notion was in regard to Dean, besides, it would be completely unnecessary, all they'd need was an angel in a beautiful woman and his brother would be all over her like the slut he was), but with Michael himself among Dean's new friends, it didn't take a genius to figure out what the desired result was. How long would it take, he wondered, before they had Dean so turned around and used to following their orders like the good little soldier he'd always been for Dad, that they would do it? How long before they asked his brother the big question? Or were they going to take it a step further and try and twist Dean enough so that he actually begged to be Michael's vessel? With anyone else he might have dismissed the idea outright, but Dean had always possessed this ridiculous need to please those that he latched onto. If they could get it so that Michael was the one that Dean looked to like that, well, then it would happen and probably sooner rather than later. After all, it wasn't like his brother hadn't already tried to give himself over to the archangel before and the banter he'd witnessed between Dean and Michael clearly showed how far they'd progressed from the bitter enemies they'd been before.  
  
Sam was so distracted that he jumped when he felt wet fingers on his back.  
  
"It's just me," Samuel said.  
  
"Sorry, my mind was elsewhere," Sam explained.  
  
He'd completely forgotten about the sigils that needed to be painted onto his back and chest. Well, they weren't strictly needed, but they'd make the cleansing spell stronger so they'd decided to go with them. Sam carefully held still and started clearing his mind. He'd do a few of these low levels spells to get rid of any residual taint from Hell and then they'd be able to do some of the more powerful ones before he'd be ready for whatever ritual the angels had. Christian's earlier words of warning came back to him and he thought about them some more. He  _was_  essentially taking the angels' word as far as this ritual was concerned, but he couldn't see what else they could be playing at. Raphael and Donnie Finnerman proved that angels didn't need permission every time they took a vessel after the first time, so they couldn't be trying to trick him into giving Lucifer permission a second time.  
  
So what could it be but what they claimed? Sam couldn't think of anything else that made sense. At worst it was just a scam to win more of Dean's favor and it wouldn't actually do anything to protect him. It was possible but unlikely as the odds of the deception coming out were too high. No, it was much more likely that Michael had a taste of his little brother's power and hadn't liked it. Despite all else, Lucifer and Michael had spent months locked together in the devil's cage and Dean's 'Mike' probably hadn't liked what he'd discovered and now wanted to stack the deck against Lucifer. Part of him almost wanted to say tough and refuse to help Michael do it. His own experience with older brother arrogance and controlling tendencies cried for him to not help another big brother do the same to a younger brother and it was hard to overcome. If it wasn't  _Lucifer_  and the Apocalypse, he'd do it without a second thought, but it was and he had no desire whatsoever to host the devil in his meatsuit again. Once had been more than good enough, thank you very much.  
  
"You okay?" Samuel asked, finishing up the last sigil on his chest.  
  
"Huh? Oh, yeah, just thinking," Sam stated.  
  
"Well stop it for now," Gwen instructed.  
  
"She's right," Bobby added. "You need to have a clear mind for this."  
  
"I  _know_ ," Sam replied crossly. "It's just a little difficult at the moment. I went from being free to being in danger of becoming Lucifer's plaything again at any moment."  
  
"Something that'll become even more likely to happen if you don't do this right, ya idjit. Now, suck it up, clear your mind and drink this." Sam pulled a face as he was handed a mug with some kind of viscous fluid. "I'm sorry," the older hunter continued. "Does it disturb your delicate sensibilities?"  
  
"I'm fine, Bobby."  
  
With a second's hesitation, Sam swallowed down the liquid before coughing at the foul taste. It was even worse then he'd imagined from the look of it and he didn't even want to know what was actually in it, something he'd purposefully avoided looking at before as he knew the kinds of things that went into potions of this sort. He was just amazed that Bobby and Samuel had managed to get their hands on all of the ingredients on such short notice and while travelling across the country. They'd decided to head back to the Campbell compound as they had more room there and Bobby and himself had already exhausted Bobby's books on anything Apocalypse related a long time ago. Despite that, they'd known that they couldn't afford to wait as far as the cleansing was concerned and so here they were.  
  
"Though that might just kill me," Sam continued, making faces at the aftertaste. "Are you sure you made it right?"  
  
"What is it with you boys and questioning me?" Bobby demanded. "First Dean and now you. Yes, of course I'm sure. Do you know how many others dare question my knowledge and abilities like this?"  
  
"Dean questioned your knowledge? When?"  
  
"Back when we first summoned Castiel."  
  
"You can summon an angel?" Samuel questioned.  
  
Sam nearly got whiplash as he turned his head that fast to look at his grandfather. To hear Samuel Campbell ask someone else a question about the supernatural was unheard of. On very rare occasions the man would need to consult a book about some obscure little detail pertaining to some creature or lore, but never had he heard his grandfather actually have to ask anyone about it because if Samuel didn't know it, then none of them would. Given the topic, though, it made sense that his grandfather wouldn't know the answer, but it was still a shocking event.  
  
"I actually don't think so, which is probably why it took so long for Castiel to show up," Bobby replied. "I think they know what you're doing, but it's entirely their choice as to whether or not they actually respond and show up."  
  
"So Winchester was right to question you then," Christian deduced.  
  
"We thought we were dealing with some high-level demon at the time," Bobby responded and Sam could tell that he was angry. "In which case the spell I used would have been perfect."  
  
"How about we get on with this?" Gwen suggested. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I for one would like to get some sleep and if we're going to do two rounds of this tonight, then we really need to get started sooner rather than later."  
  
With a curt nod, Bobby stepped back and Sam took a deep breath as Gwen and Samuel took their spots at the cardinal points East and West, respectively. Strictly speaking it didn't have to be performed by a man and a woman (and Sam could recall Dad and Dean doing it once though Dean had complained bitterly about having to take the woman's role), but it was best and as they had Gwen, they'd figured it best to do the spell properly. Something about balancing the energies or such.  
  
The incantations were all in Latin and Sam let his eyes fall shut as Gwen and Samuel began chanting, focusing on the words. Almost immediately he felt a mild pain, rather like an itch deep within him and it caught him completely off-guard. Yes, it was kinda good in that it meant that the cleansing spell was working, but they had only just started. In that way it was bad, very, very bad as it really shouldn't be that quick. To make matters worse, the pain quickly escalated into a burning sensation and started to spread within him. By the time that Gwen and Samuel had finished the first quarter of the chant, he felt like his very blood was on fire and it was all that he could do not to scream in pain.  
  
He tried to concentrate on something else, anything else, but failed. All that Sam managed was to become aware of exactly how tense and strained his muscles felt and how much he was sweating. It was like he'd just finished a fierce battle, not merely undergone a small part of a relatively weak cleansing spell. What the hell was going on here? If he didn't know any better, he'd have said he'd been tricked into submitting for something else, but this was Bobby and his family performing the spell, not Dean and his angels. So what on Earth was going on here? Could it really be like Bobby had thought? Could the blood he'd drunk before saying yes to Lucifer still be having an effect? It just seemed like such a ridiculous notion as that had been ages ago. surely that must have worked its way out of his system a long time ago. He definitely couldn't  _feel_  it within him anymore and hadn't since he'd first been resurrected. Yet what else could it be?  
  
The fire in his blood intensified until it felt like it was boiling within him and Sam tasted blood in his mouth as he bit his lip in an effort not to scream. Somehow it kept getting worse, spreading to the rest of his body and reminding him of Hell and what it had felt like to be helpless at Lucifer's mercy those few times the archangel had chosen to focus on him instead of Michael.  
  
Were they at the end of the chant yet? Sam had completely lost track and couldn't seem to focus enough on what was being said to make out the words. He couldn't even tell apart the two voices anymore. All he knew was pain and burning.  
  
Finally unable to take it anymore, Sam screamed and collapsed onto the floor in a twitching, writhing mess before darkness consumed him whole.  
  


* * *

  
  
Bobby was ashamed to admit that he hadn't been paying attention to Sam at the start of the spell, but had rather been focusing on Christian Campbell. The man continued to annoy him and he found his dislike for him growing even more. On some level he knew that everything that the man did wrong got compounded by the fact that Dean would never have done it, but he couldn't help but make the comparison. Yes, it wasn't fair on Christian, but the way the man had put Dean down, so easily passing judgment over things he neither understood nor knew the full details of, made it so that he just didn't care. Besides, even if it had, that still left the fact that Christian had made those mistakes in the first place, to mention nothing of his despicable personality.  
  
Regardless, Bobby was ashamed that he'd not been focusing on Sam at such an important time. In his defense, however, he hadn't expected the boy to react quite so badly as soon as he had. Yes, he'd been one hundred percent certain that it would be worse then Sam seemed to realize, but even he'd never seen this coming.  
  
"Stop!" Bobby cried out as soon as the boy collapsed.  
  
"What the hell?" Christian demanded.  
  
"It was too much."  
  
And dammit, they'd hardly finished the first quarter of the chant! Bobby felt fear grip his heart at the realization. If the boy couldn't even take such a low-level spell, then what did that say for the condition of Sam's body? For the sheer amount of taint on it? And what about the boy's soul? He swallowed thickly at the thought even as he reached out and gently turned Sam over so that he lay on his back. As he'd expected, the boy was out cold, though his face was still a mask of pain.  
  
"Exactly how much demon blood did he drink?" Samuel demanded, shaken.  
  
"A lot," Bobby replied.  
  
A part of him wanted to tell the Campbells about how long Sam had been drinking demon blood and how what he'd done in preparation for saying yes had merely been the tip of the iceberg, but he didn't. It would serve the boy right to get a dose of his own medicine, but Bobby couldn't bring himself to do it. He knew it was wrong and two wrongs didn't make a right. Doing so would be childish and wouldn't do anything to help Dean or anyone else.  
  
Instead Bobby looked up at Christian and the strangely quiet Mark. "Help me get him on a bed."  
  
"We're going to need a weaker cleansing spell," Samuel stated grimly.  
  
"Yes, we are," Bobby agreed.  
  
One glance at the other hunter was all he needed to see that Samuel Campbell understood exactly how bad this situation was. The biggest question Bobby had now was whether all of this was due to Sam's little trip to Hell with his meatsuit or because of the demon blood. Since he'd already looked at all that he had on Hell, he'd have to focus his efforts on the demon blood and see what he could find. It was a task he wasn't looking forward to as he already knew that whatever he found wouldn't be pretty, not based on what had happened before.  
  
Or on common sense. Bobby still didn't know what had possessed Sam to start drinking the blood in the first place and he wasn't really sure that he wanted to know as it would definitely be something that he didn't understand and would most likely be something so monumentally stupid that he'd want to hit the boy for it. And people claimed that Sam was the smart one. For such a smart man, the boy could be incredibly stupid.  
  
"Well I guess that's it for tonight then," Gwen stated. "You alright to look after him, Christian?"  
  
"So long as I don't have to drive tomorrow."  
  
Bobby tuned them out as he gave Sam a quick once over. Already the expression of pain was fading from the boy's face and he seemed to be slipping into a troubled sleep of exhaustion. He didn't think there would be any lasting effects, so he would go back to his room and begin contacting some of the other hunters and sources he had before it got too late. He was halfway to his feet when he realized that he could actually call an angel for this one. The idea cheered him for a moment before he suddenly remembered what Sam had told him the last time the boy had gotten drunk while staying at his place. Sam had been rambling and ranting about angels when he'd let slip what Castiel had called him when it had been the angel who'd been half inebriated (and wasn't that something he just had the hardest time wrapping his mind around, especially after all of the alcohol he'd seen Castiel consume with his own eyes without ever even appearing to be affected in the slightest).  
  
An abomination.  
  
Now as then the word made Bobby shiver and he suddenly wasn't quite sure if he wanted to call Castiel about this. If it really was something that was  _that_  bad, then speaking with the angel would erase all doubt of it from his mind and he wasn't sure if he could take that just now. What did angels consider an abomination? Was it only unsalvageable things? But no, that couldn't be, it had been Dean who'd requested the cleansing and that could only mean that it was necessary for whatever ritual the angel had in mind and they'd not ask for that if it wasn't possible.  
  
The thought gave Bobby the hope he needed to start planning exactly what he'd do next. After all, he'd already failed one of the boys spectacularly, he wasn't about to do so with the other. At least not if he could help it.  
  



	79. Chapter 78

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel and Raphael deal with Dean and Michael's wounds.

**PAST**  
  
  
The pained grunt that Michael made when they landed in the motel room made Castiel feel like he'd been stabbed as well. If his brother was feeling the pain this acutely, then he could only imagine what it felt like for his mate. His stubborn, foolish mate who just could never seem to do things the easy way or allow others to bear a burden for him. On some level, a part of him knew that he wasn't being entirely fair to Dean as Michael had said that he might not have been able to finish the Rite of Contressa if his vessel hadn't insisted on not being shielded, but the rest of him just didn't care. All the rest of him cared about was the fact that his mate was in pain when he didn't have to be.  
  
Although Castiel hadn't carried Dean much before and only ever when they were engaged in or about to engage in mating, he had done so enough to acutely feel how  _wrong_  it was to have wings brushing against him as he did so. It was a constant, sharp reminder that it was  _Michael_  who was in control of the body that he was carrying and not his mate. He did his best to ignore it as he bore them both towards the large bed upon which he and Dean had lain together only hours before. Briefly the thought of which of his brothers it was that was allowing him to not only carry them, but to touch their wings so freely struck him with all of the awe it deserved. This was  _Michael_  after all, his Father's first child and greatest of the archangels, let along the rest of the angels, but then he shoved it aside. He'd not allowed those sentiments free reign since Dean had first convinced him of the wrongness of Heaven's actions and now was not the time for them either.  
  
Castiel unceremoniously shoved Deirdre Winchester's body aside to make room for his precious burden as he was silently thankful that Dean had started getting rooms with large beds whenever possible. Once he'd put Dean and Michael down as gently as possible, he turned to arrange Deirdre into a more comfortable position once more. He wasn't sure why he did it as he knew that she was no longer there to feel it anymore, but she had been his mate's aunt and it seemed wrong to leave her in a heap if he could help it.  
  
"How are you feeling, Brother?" Castiel forced himself to ask.  
  
He didn't really want to know the answer as Castiel knew that there wasn't really anything he could do for either Michael or Dean. He hadn't felt this helpless since before they thought that they'd prevented the Apocalypse and it was a feeling that he'd never wanted to experience again and especially not when it was his mate that he couldn't help. He just couldn't understand how humans could live with feeling like this on a regular basis. Or how Dean could overcome it to take on archangels like Michael and Lucifer head on when he had to know how infinitely more powerful they were than him.  
  
"Better now that I can relax and lie still," Michael admitted.  
  
The honesty of the statement startled Castiel as did the implied trust behind it. He knew that his oldest brother had come to view him differently, the change in the way he'd been treated during their lessons together proved that, but this was more than that. This was a willingness to show weakness before him, something he'd only ever assumed archangels did before other archangels and while he was now officially one of them thanks to his Father's promotion, as Dean liked to call it, he'd never expected to truly be considered one of them by either Michael or Raphael. The earlier feelings of honor and awe were back and he found them harder to shove aside this time.  
  
Instead, Castiel tried to focus on what he might be able to do. He carefully didn't call for his brother as he knew that Raphael would have a good reason for not joining them right away and he didn't want to waste valuable time getting an explanation for it now when that could wait for later. It was hard, though, and he was starting to understand why his mate had always been so confrontational and difficult to deal with whenever Sam had been injured.  
  
The thought froze Castiel in place for a moment before the idea had him turning towards Dean's duffel to rifle through its contents.  
  
"Castiel?" Michael questioned when he held up the first aid kit triumphantly.  
  
"It will help."  
  
He wasn't quite sure how to describe human medicine to his brother as Castiel could remember well his own initial horror at seeing doctors cut into people to help them or watching his charge use a needle and thread to sew shut one of his brother's wounds. Dean must have said something however as Michael suddenly nodded in understanding. He was tempted to ask what had passed between them but focused his attention on the task at hand instead. The longer he waited to help, the worse off Michael and his mate would be as Dean's body was still losing blood and the open wound would allow things to get in that Michael would then need to waste time and energy fighting off.  
  
With a thought and a twist of his Grace, Castiel banished Dean's ruined shirt, taking care to get all of the shreds and loose threads of it from the wound. He had watched his mate clean out enough injuries to know that it was a vitally important step in the process. Luckily, Dean had also taken the time to explain all that he did once and so he had a decent idea of what was required of him. He pulled out the disinfectant, needle, thread, gauze and bandages before he was forced to admit to himself that he was purposefully avoiding the wound itself. He had seen it earlier when he'd first rushed to their side, but that had been a hasty appraisal while Dean's shirt had still been in the way.  
  
Castiel hated his own cowardice and forced himself to look up and inspect the wound. As he'd known from before, it was instantly obvious that if Michael hadn't been in Dean, the injury would have been almost immediately fatal for his mate. The edges of the wound are strangely smooth as the blade that tore so easily through flesh and bone had none of the roughness or ragged edges to it that mortal weapons did. It made for a cleaner wound than those he'd witnessed before but even that couldn't hide the sheer wrongness and hideousness of it. The gaping hole in his mate's chest was enough to nearly paralyze him even though he knew that it would only have been a mortal death. Was he reacting like this because he knew how Dean felt about life and Earth versus how he felt about Heaven?  
  
He didn't know, but one thing that Castiel did know what that this was not an injury that he'd be able to sew shut as the wound was far too big. Instead he picked up some of the gauze and pressed it firmly to the bleeding injury, desperately trying to ignore his brother's reaction to the action.  
  
"Sorry," Castiel said, knowing it was hopelessly inadequate.  
  
He knew that he would need to disinfect next, but he really didn't want to as he knew the pain that would cause. Castiel wished for the anaesthetics that Sam had mentioned once, but knew that nothing Dean had in his kit would work on this type of injury even if he wasn't sure that Michael's presence would render it useless. He briefly considered alcohol, knowing he'd get his mate whatever he wanted in a heartbeat if he thought that it would help regardless of how much he'd wanted Dean to stop drinking so much before, but it too would be ineffective as long as Michael remained within his hunter.  
  
The arrival of Raphael came just as Castiel was starting to become desperate.  
  
"Brother, do you have something that can help?" Castiel demanded.  
  
"Yes," Raphael replied, placing an assortment of items on the room's table where shortly before the ingredients for the Rite of Contressa had lain.  
  
"What?"  
  
"It is an old healing potion from during the Rebellion. Even then some of our siblings fought on Earth within vessels and were similarly wounded."  
  
"Can I help?"  
  
"Just continue to do what you are, I shall have this ready momentarily."  
  
Castiel watched his brother mix the ingredients he had retrieved and frowned when he saw the holy oil. "What does it do?"  
  
"It works on the connection between vessel and angel and will allow Michael to draw more strength from Dean then he is currently able to," Raphael explained. "This will allow him to heal faster and should let him get to the point where he can safely transfer back to his other vessel."  
  
"Will this not weaken Dean?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"No. We are no-"  
  
"Castiel," Michael interrupted weakly. "Once I am gone, you will be able to heal Dean as normal."  
  
That caught Castiel's attention instantly. "What?"  
  
"Without Michael present, the wound becomes just an affliction of the body," Raphael stated. "It is Michael's Grace that makes it more at present and it is his own injury that prevents him from healing Dean. The most expedient way to heal both of them is to separate them from each other. You will be able to heal Dean instantly and Michael will not have a physical wound sapping his strength and will thus better be able to heal himself."  
  
"But the transfer will weaken him more."  
  
"I can aid him in doing so and while it will still weaken him, it will be lesser than remaining within his true vessel and dealing with both his wound as well as Dean's."  
  
"But will this whole process not aggravate their already overly strong connection?" Castiel questioned worriedly.  
  
Raphael's words from earlier about how Dean and Michael were nearly  _fused_  in places still alarmed Castiel and it was more than enough to reawaken the intense feelings of jealousy and possessiveness that he'd felt the day his mate had finally said yes to Michael. The depth of his emotions for his mate still overwhelmed him at times when all was well- like when he was watching Dean sleep- so now when he was already distraught it was all but unbearable. The mere thought of losing his mate like that was too horrible to even consider.  
  
"No," Raphael stated confidently. "The potion was specifically designed to work on the vessel's body and not their soul, both because archangel vessels often no longer possess a soul and because that would have been a violation of Father's wishes as we could find no means of ensuring that souls were not wholly consumed by the process."  
  
If Castiel had thought the possibility he'd been considering was bad, this one was even worse. "And what of the near fusion that has already taken place? How do we deal with that?"  
  
"Once Michael is strong enough to transfer to his other vessel, I shall help separate them."  
  
"I can help, I know Dean's soul well."  
  
"Too well and he your Grace. If you were to try helping, it will merely serve to complicate matters. No, you can best help by taking care of Dean once Michael is out of him."  
  
The unfairness of the situation made Castiel want to fight it and he would have, were it not for the fact that helping would adversely affect his mate. Despite that, it grated and he hated the ever growing understanding he was gaining of Dean's unflattering behavior at times of great stress when those he loved were in need of aid and he was helpless to provide it.  
  
"Very well," Castiel said, wanting his mate healed as soon as possible. "Does Dean agree to this?" he asked turning back to his eldest brother.  
  
"Yes," Michael replied.  
  
Another phenomenon that Castiel was still well acquainted with from his time as nearly human was how time seemed to slow when you wanted it to speed up. He was sure that it didn't take Raphael nearly as long to concoct the healing potion as it felt like it did, but he couldn't seem to be able to get a good grasp on the exact passage of time. Sometimes this inability almost pleased him as it meant that his time with his mate on Earth wouldn't fly by as it once might have, but at times like this it felt like a curse. He had considered filling the time by speaking with Michael, but he feared that doing so might further sap his brother's strength and he also didn't want to interfere if Michael and Dean were conversing with each other.  
  
Eventually Raphael had the potion ready and he approached the bed with it. "This will not taste pleasant to your vessel's tongue," the archangel cautioned.  
  
"I recall the reactions," Michael replied.  
  
"Good. Castiel, you are ready to take care of Dean if I see to Michael?"  
  
"Yes, Brother," Castiel confirmed. "How quickly will it work?"  
  
"It has never been utilized on an archangel before, but in the past the reaction time varied," Raphael said. "I believe it may be affected by how closely the angel and vessel are already connected."  
  
"Then it will not take long," Michael declared. "Let us begin."  
  
The presence of the holy oil in the potion made it smell extremely unpleasant and Castiel was glad that he did not have to consume it. The distortion of his time perception meant that he did not know how long it took for the potion to act and Michael to strengthen, but it seemed to take forever. The fact that Dean's body paled didn't help his patience any and he was just about ready to question Raphael when Michael expressed his desire to try the switch. He tried to contain his excitement and instead helped as much as he could while Raphael aided Michael. The wound to his brother's true form was nearly as horrible to witness as that to Dean's body and he felt the rage against Simiel rise within him once more. He didn't like feeling like that about one of his sisters, but she had deliberately hurt his mate as well as his brother before trying to do the same to another brother and himself and all for Lucifer.  
  
The instant the last tendril of Michael's Grace left Dean's body, Castiel pressed his hand to his mate's forehead and healed him with his own Grace. The damage felt even worse from this end and before he knew it, his wings and arms were wrapped protectively around his mate and Dean was clinging to him, body shaking and shuddering as it adjusted to the abrupt transitions. When his hunter finally calmed and his heart rate and breathing had both returned to normal, Dean turned his face enough so that he could see Michael.  
  
"Mike?"  
  
"Hush, Little One, I shall be okay," Michael reassured from within Deirdre. "All I need is time to allow my Grace to heal."


	80. Chapter 79

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel takes care of his mate.

**PAST**  
  
  
"Little One?" Castiel questioned, startled.  
  
The moniker drew an unexpected surge of jealousy and possessiveness from Castiel and he tightened his hold on his mate though he was careful not to exert any of his true strength for fear of hurting Dean.  
  
"It's his nickname for me, one he insists on using," Dean explained, frowning at him though not protesting his hold.  
  
"You do not like it?" Castiel asked.  
  
"He calls me Mike or occasionally Mikey despite my protestations," Michael pointed out.  
  
"Yeah, I really don't have a leg to stand on with this one," Dean admitted with a shrug.  
  
His mate's relatively easy acceptance of the situation soothed Castiel a bit, though the initial slight he'd felt hadn't faded entirely. Dean's penchant for giving people monikers and now Michael's christening of his mate with one had made him wonder if he'd been remiss in not giving his hunter one himself. Dean's apparent dislike of this one even if he was willing to accept it eased that fear though. It did remind him strangely of Dean and Sam's old habit of calling each other names and made him wonder if his mate saw Michael's insistence on calling him Little One like his brother's teasing. It served to further dampen his initial reaction, but now he was wondering if he  _should_  give Dean a moniker of his own. The only problem was that he had never been particularly creative and his hunter's favorite method for devising monikers didn't seem to apply to Dean's name as it was already only one syllable.  
  
"Are you feeling entirely better now?" Raphael demanded. "No lingering side effects?"  
  
"No, thank you," Dean replied.  
  
Castiel smiled at the relatively easy interaction between the two. It pleased him to see that both Dean and Raphael could put their differences aside to work together when needed and that there clearly was a limit to their animosity. It would be best, of course, if they could always work together well, but he didn't think that was likely so he took what he could get.  
  
"Then I shall take Michael to Heaven to continue his healing," Raphael stated.  
  
"Very well," Castiel replied.  
  
Once he might have felt threatened at letting the two archangels go there, let alone without him, but now Castiel knew better. Both had been home with and without him before to no ill effect. Neither of them had made any attempt to take over control of Heaven from him and had even gone out of their way to make it clear that they expected him to handle things when they'd been approached by other angels. Xarael had, naturally, come straight to him as they'd been working so closely together for all of these past few months, but some of the others hadn't quite known who to approach.  
  
"Let me know if you need anything," Castiel replied.  
  
With a nod, Raphael vanished with Michael. Castiel managed to wait a second before he couldn't resist and he was kissing his mate. Dean responded instantly and before he knew it, he'd already banished their clothes and had shifted them so that his hunter was beneath him. The memory of how Dean had wanted control the last time he'd been Michael's vessel had him slowing, giving his mate every chance to alter their current positions, but Dean didn't take it. If anything, his mate was clinging to him and he seemed to be almost shaking.  
  
"Dean?" Castiel questioned, pulling back enough to see his mate's face clearly.  
  
"Adrenaline. Michael kept everything calm before, but just the thought of what happened is enough for me to react to it now apparently."  
  
The memory had Castiel's heart pounding in fear once more but he didn't try to cut himself off from his vessel as it meant distancing himself from Dean and instead he pulled his mate closer by bringing his wings up through the bed even as he pressed himself down more firmly. The result was that they were touching from their lips all the way down to their entangled legs with his wings cradling his mate. His original desire to restrain Dean rapidly died at how strongly his hunter was still clutching him and instead he gentled his touches, seeking to both calm and reassure.  
  
Almost inevitably, Castiel found his kisses trailing down Dean's throat to his chest. Apparently his mate wasn't the only one in need of reassurance. Instead of trying to pretend otherwise, he lavished the area with attention when he reached it. The behavior made his mate's breath hitch but no protests were forthcoming and so he continued, trying to drive the memory of the horrible wound from his mind. It was at times like this that angelic perfect memory was more of a cruse than a blessing, but he did his best anyway.  
  
The enticing noises that Dean made were the same as normal and so it wasn't until Castiel rolled his hips that he discovered that something wasn't right. Pulling back, he glanced down to find his mate only partially hard when normally he would have already been fully erect and leaking by this point. He looked up to see if he was doing something wrong only to find Dean averting his eyes in embarrassment.  
  
"Sorry, Cas, I don't know what's wrong, maybe it's-"  
  
Castiel surged up to claim his mate's lips in a fierce kiss, not wanting to hear any of the self-deprecating words Dean had no doubt intended to say for the natural reaction to the trauma he'd just experienced. He reached down to grasp his mate and started stroking him. He eagerly swallowed the delicious little sounds Dean made that clearly indicated that his mate was enjoying the attention which was all he needed to know. When he pulled back, he nipped twice at the disobedient lips when his human tried to continue his excuses.  
  
"Shh," Castiel commanded before he slithered down Dean's body.  
  
Not really giving his mate a chance to respond, Castiel swallowed his cock down to the root in one go. Dean cried out as his back arched and he hummed in satisfaction as he felt his mate's cock harden further. He brought his inner right wing around to brush against Dean's nipples and then groaned himself as his mate's hands sunk into it, tugging gently at the feathers. The wonderful sensations made him want to bury himself within Dean right away, but while he began preparing his mate with the oil from his glands, he kept sucking and swallowing around the cock in his mouth, patiently working it to full hardness.  
  
"Shit, Cas!" Dean moaned, writhing helplessly. "S'okay, you don't have to- I mean you can just- Shit! Cas, you can just fuck me."  
  
He could and his mate would enjoy it, but Castiel wanted Dean to orgasm as well. It didn't seem right if he was the only one 'getting off' as his hunter called it. They'd both come or not at all. He ran his tongue along the underside of Dean's cock and then teased the bundle of nerves just under the head. His efforts were rewarded by a whine and the sudden burst of precum across his tongue. He sucked his mate down once more and swallowed around the head lodged in his throat before pulling off with a loud pop.  
  
"Cas!" Dean protested, hips jerking. "Please!"  
  
"Patience," Castiel chastised.  
  
He ran his hands up along his mate's hips and sides to his arms. Castiel's earlier possessiveness returned and he forced Dean's arms up as he ran his hands along the insides of his strong biceps, elbows and forearms until he pinned his hunter's wrists together above Dean's head against a bed of his feathers. The mewling and bucking of his mate's hips at the act made him smile in satisfaction. Dean was more than ready for what he had in mind now.  
  
"Yeah, yeah," Dean managed to gasp out. "No need to be so smug ab-"  
  
The kiss turned the rest of his mate's words into a moan. As Castiel had expected, though, Dean didn't give up without a token fight which he quickly tamed with a few thrusts of his hips. That resulted not only in his mate yielding to him, but in Dean's legs falling open, letting him settle between them. With his free hand, he slicked his cock and the thought that he'd be spreading his oil all over the inside of his hunter made him all the more eager to be inside of Dean. Luckily he'd already prepared his mate and knew that he'd be able to take him quickly.  
  
The calm, gentle mood from earlier was gone entirely, but Dean seemed to like this rougher treatment at the moment. Castiel believed his mate had called it life-affirming sex once and he was more than happy to oblige. He guided his cock to Dean's slick entrance and began thrusting in as soon as he'd pinned his mate's hips down, preventing Dean from doing anything other than just lying back and enjoying himself. Once he'd sank in completely, he leaned forward to bite at the base of his mate's throat as he allowed Dean to adjust before setting a hard and fast pace.  
  
"Cas, Cas, Cas, Cas," Dean moaned, head rolling back and granting him even more access to his mate's throat.  
  
As before, all of his old marks were gone and Castiel wondered if Michael knew what it was that he was healing when he did it and he wondered why Dean didn't tell him not to. The way his mate clenched around him quickly derailed the thought and he began thrusting harder. At the same time, he brought his inner most wing around again so that it was trapped between their bodies, feathers stroking his mate's cock. Dean cried out in pleasure, writhing beneath him. He moaned himself, both at the delicious pressure on his cock each time his mate clenched down around him, but also at the lovely keening sounds Dean was making and he could rapidly feel his orgasm approaching.  
  
Castiel leaned down and gently bit an earlobe. "Come for me, Dean, come now."  
  
With a near wail, his mate did exactly that, spilling his release all over his wing. It was all that Castiel needed to come himself, releasing his claim deep within Dean against walls already coated with his oil. Wanting to enjoy the post-coital bliss for as long as possible, he merely rearranged the two of them so that he was pressed to his mate's back and Dean was cradled in his left wings before burying his face in his mate's hair and letting himself just feel. Slowly the extreme pleasure faded to a general contentment that he was still more than happy to bask in but which left him more aware. Dean's heart rate had returned to normal, but his breathing indicated that his mate was not actually asleep.  
  
"Dean?" Castiel questioned.  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
The reply ruled out anything being wrong, but still didn't tell him why his mate hadn't allowed himself to drift off for a nap. Before Castiel could ask, Dean reached out for one of his wings. It was as he brought it closer that he realized it was the one covered in his hunter's release which he'd yet had to clear off of it. Curious, he left the drying fluid where it was splattered, the white a stark contract to the ebony feathers.  
  
The first thing Dean did was run his fingers through the mess as if trying to clean it up himself, but Castiel knew that couldn't be his mate's intention. He waited quietly for a bit as Dean seemed to hesitate, but then his hunter ran his fingers through the feathers as if grooming them and thus deliberately spreading his come. His wings shivered as he realized that his mate was purposefully scent marking him and he bit his hunter's shoulder right where it met the neck. Dean hissed but instead of protesting he merely tilted his head, providing him with better access. Instead of taking it, he nuzzled into his mate's hair and kissed Dean behind his ear. The act earned him a mild huff and he smiled, liking how much more pliable and open his mate was like this. There wasn't much that Dean wouldn't let him do in these situations despite his token protests and it always warmed him to think of it. He knew that he still often did things that weren't socially acceptable or generally done, but now they seemed to amuse his mate more than anything else and Dean seemed quite willing to indulge his curiosity. He'd be far more happy about that if he didn't know that it stemmed from a deep-seated need within his hunter to be touched and loved. Regardless of the reason, though, it allowed them both to get what they wanted or needed, so he indulged in these desires whenever he could.  
  
Like now, his soft touches had his mate stretching languidly and relaxing even further into his embrace once Dean finished with his chosen task. Seeing his human move to wipe the remaining semen from his hand onto the sheets, he cleared it with a simple thought. Dean shifted against him until his mate lay on his back and could see him properly. The slightly disgruntled look on his hunter's face made him smile once more.  
  
"I left the smell behind," Castiel reassured.  
  
"Oh, so, uh..." Dean began, glancing back at the wing in question. "You, uh..."  
  
"Yes, Dean, I currently smell as much like you as you do of me. Any other angel would know that I'm taken if they didn't already."  
  
"Oh... that's good then."  
  
It wasn't often that Castiel got to see his hunter ashamed or embarrassed but he should have known that this would be one of those situations. Humans did not place as much emphasis on their sense of smell as angels did and it was already a token of how much Dean had adapted that he'd acted the way he had. His mate's intuitive nature never ceased to amaze him.  
  
Dean seemed to be content to doze where he was despite the fact that Castiel knew that this situation used to leave his mate feeling horribly vulnerable. The trust and honor of the gesture wasn't lost on him as he trailed random feathers over his mate's body. After a while their quiet was interrupted by the rumbling of Dean's stomach and he had to laugh at the groan that drew from his mate.  
  
"What?" Castiel teased. "No desire to eat?"  
  
"'s not that. It was just so nice and warm," Dean replied, stretching. "But I guess I should get up before I really do fall asleep."  
  
"What do you want to eat?"  
  
"Oh, I've already got something stashed in the fridge as I figured I'd be hungry after the last time."  
  
Castiel flew to the small fridge and found a takeaway box stuffed into the small space between overpriced bottles of alcohol and candy bars. Pulling it out, he was startled to find an assortment of vegetables in with the burger and fries. They weren't anything special and actually looked a bit wilted, but he knew how even a short time ago there wouldn't have been any vegetables at all. The other thing he liked about Dean's choice was that it clearly conveyed the expectation that he would be here as the motel room possessed no food heating facilities. Pleased, he flew back to his mate's side, heating the food as he went.  
  



	81. Chapter 80

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean asks Castiel about his true form and his animal faces.

**PAST**  
  
  
Dean grimaced as he bit into the vegetables, they were nothing like the ones Castiel got when his angel brought him food from God knows where, but then he'd known that when he'd ordered them. Also, to be fair, it wasn't like he'd gotten them from the best place either, so he wasn't even sure what had possessed him to get them in the first place, knowing all of that. He'd ordered them before he'd really thought about it and then he hadn't been able to bring himself to tell them to hold the vegetables knowing that his lover wanted him to eat more of them.  
  
He was so whipped.  
  
He was long past the point of denying that, so instead Dean figured that he might as well enjoy the perks of his relationship. Castiel had joined him on the bed again and he now scooted back to lean against his lover. An arm wrapped around his waist and wings came around to brush his back where he wasn't leaning against Castiel. He pulled the sheets so that they covered his lap once more, just in case he dropped something, before he continued eating. He smiled as his lover stole a few fries with his free hand before Castiel's chin came to rest on his shoulder.  
  
"Comfortable?" Dean teased.  
  
"Yes."  
  
He snorted but Dean knew that he couldn't really complain, not after how often he'd used his angel as a pillow. Nor did he really want to either. He mind wandered as he finished his meal and he winced at the memory of what had happened earlier. He was lucky that his lover was so understanding as the first time it had happened the girl he'd been with had been nothing but cruel, slagging him off for not being able to fully get it up, which hadn't helped the situation any either. He winced even more as he easily recalled his panic from that evening. He hadn't known what was going on and feared that he'd gone impotent somehow. To make matters worse, he just hadn't felt comfortable mentioning it to either his Dad or Sam, so he'd been forced to look into it himself at the library. To this day he still had no words for the relief he'd felt when he'd discovered that it could be a temporary side effect of severe trauma. If only he'd been able to remember that earlier but, to be perfectly honest, his brain had been pretty much fried by that point, so he was lucky his angel hadn't been either offended or deterred by his lack of normal response.  
  
"Dean?" Castiel inquired.  
  
"Just thinking about some things," Dean replied, surprised as always by how in tune his lover was to his moods. "Nothing really important."  
  
Two more bites finished off the burger and Dean had some more fries before allowing Castiel to steal the last two after which he tossed the container into the trash. His angel's wings now fully curled around him and he brought his hands up to run through the feathers, grooming them automatically. The way Castiel melted behind him and all but started purring made him smile before his expression slid into a frown. Could his angel purr in his true form? Was one of his faces that of a cat like Michael or Zachariah's lion face? And what about his other faces?  
  
Dean wasn't sure why the thought bothered him the way it did. Or rather, he knew why- hello,  _animal faces_  and all- but he didn't know why this type of reaction was just kicking in now. After all, he'd known his lover wasn't human from the start and that hadn't deterred him from getting involved with him, so why did it happen now? Sure, he hadn't really known about the animal faces bit (well, other than a passing remark from Zach and some of the books on angel lore they'd looked at in the beginning had mentioned it in passing), but he had known that what he saw when he looked at Castiel wasn't his angel's true form but rather a vessel so his lover could be on Earth and interact with him at all. So it was his own fault really for never asking what Castiel's true form looked like.  
  
Still, despite all of that, the reluctance and hesitancy he felt bothered Dean. This was his  _lover_ , dammit, his Cas. So what if he had animal faces in his true form? That didn't change anything about who he was as they'd always been there. Hell, it didn't even alter anything as he still couldn't see Castiel's true form anyway unless Michael happened to be in him while his lover was out of his vessel. Besides, the wings were more animal than human and they'd never bothered him, rather the opposite in fact. His fingers tightened in the feathers he was grooming at the thought. He loved Castiel's wings, inhuman or not, and never wanted to lose the ability to see or feel them. Wasn't it possible that he'd feel the same about his angel's faces? He definitely hoped so as he didn't like feeling like his about his lover.  
  
"Something is bothering you," Castiel stated, lifting his head and turning Dean. "What's wrong?"  
  
Dean closed his eyes briefly, kinda wanting to change the topic but knowing it would be the coward's way out. Besides, since he'd cut Michael off before the archangel could tell him what Castiel's faces were, he didn't know that information and while he was a bit afraid that knowing might freak him out even more, he couldn't  _not_  know something so essential about his lover either.  
  
"You... uh..." Dean began before he took a deep breath and looked at his lover. "Six faces, huh?"  
  
Castiel blinked once before understanding dawned and Dean hated it. He hated that his angel had to be able to understand what it was about that which bothered him. How would he feel if he learned that something so fundamental about himself bothered Castiel so much? It would fucking hurt like hell that was for sure and it hurt him to know that he was inflicting that kind of pain on his lover.  
  
"Dean," Castiel's voice was firm and commanding. "Stop that now."  
  
"Wha'?"  
  
"Stop berating yourself."  
  
"But I'm-"  
  
"Having an entirely normal,  _human_  reaction," Castiel stated.  
  
"That's no excuse. I know what you are, I shouldn't be- Mmuf!"  
  
The kiss effectively silenced him but Dean couldn't really bring himself to care, not with the gentleness and caring behind it.  
  
"Dean, humans were never meant to like anyone beyond your own species. It is completely natural for you to be conflicted when confronted with something so different."  
  
"I don't want to be," Dean declared, pressing his face into his lover's neck. "I love you."  
  
The arms and wings tightened around him.  
  
"I know and I love you, Dean. Rest assured, your very resistance to such a natural impulse tells me all I need to know about how much this bothers you."  
  
"'s not enough."  
  
"It is for me."  
  
Somehow one of his hands had already buried itself into a wing again without any conscious thought and Dean really hoped that such gestures did indeed go towards proving his true feelings to his angel.  
  
"Besides," Castiel continued. "I cannot imagine that Lucifer gave you the best impression of what we look like in our true form, especially not if he was acting the way he was when I observed him."  
  
Dean shuddered as he recalled the sheer power and force of Lucifer when truly enraged. It was nearly impossible to reconcile that image with the being holding him so gently and, yes, lovingly now, though he knew that Castiel was now more like that then not even if he wasn't quite as powerful as his brother. Hell, even before his promotion to archangel, his lover had been more like that than like him and he'd seen his angel furious enough to also know that Castiel had probably been like Lucifer had been. Odd how that knowledge, though needing a moment to fully sink in, didn't bother him as much as the other stuff did; the faces. Guess this got worked away with his absolute trust in his lover and the fact that he'd never been under the illusion that they were equally powerful, even when his angel had been almost entirely human.  
  
"You weren't kidding when you called archangels Heaven's most terrifying weapons," Dean said, suddenly recalling his earlier note to ask his lover about what he thought of now being one of them.  
  
"No, I was not."  
  
"So how's it feel to be one of them now?"  
  
"It is... different," Castiel replied slowly. "Not only can I feel the difference in my own Grace, but others regard me differently now as well."  
  
"In a good way or a bad way?"  
  
It took a shift of the wing he was touching for Dean to realize that his grip had tightened to what was probably painful or at the very least uncomfortable proportions for the delicate tissue and he immediately loosened his hold, caressing the feathers in a silent apology. He just couldn't help it, though, the thought of other angels treating Castiel poorly because of his promotion and all of the sacrifices that his lover had made to get it really bugged him.  
  
"Both and neither," Castiel stated. "I seem to have been placed on a pedestal in some ways as Father has never brought an angel back before, never mind altering one's status, so I believe they are not sure how to treat me until they get to know me."  
  
"Oh."  
  
That wasn't too bad even if he could see how it might have isolated his lover at first. Still, Dean knew it could have been a lot worse.  
  
"In a lot of ways, I am still not able to fully comprehend my new status as an archangel," Castiel continued. "It is hard to think of how I saw them before and to reconcile that with what I am now. To know that I once truly feared what I am now."  
  
"Well, at least it'll mean you think twice before fully unleashing that power," Dean pointed out. "You know what it's like to be on the wrong end of it, to be unable to really defend yourself."  
  
"That is true."  
  
It wasn't until it was too late that Dean realized exactly how badly his angel knew that. He'd just been thinking of the less lethal situations, but those two fatal ones were there as well. At least there was now one archangel who knew what it felt like when that awesome power was abused and he knew that Michael and Raphael at least would listen to Castiel so hopefully there would be less of those abuses in the future.  
  
They slipped into a comfortable silence despite the topic of their conversation with Dean grooming whatever he could reach of his lover's wings and Castiel basically petting him by running a hand through his hair. A yawn made him look up at the clock and he was surprised that it was already nearly ten. It would be so easy to just let them slip naturally into a more comfortable and easy position until he fell asleep and he knew that his lover would let him, but he was determined to take care of this now.  
  
"Michael said that you used to only have two faces," Dean finally began.  
  
"Yes, that is what is normal for Seraphs."  
  
"What was that face?"  
  
There was a slight pause and Dean was almost afraid that Castiel would ask him if he was sure before his angel replied. "A wolf."  
  
"A wolf," Dean repeated as various images of wolves flashed through his mind.  
  
He was surprised by how much that seemed to fit his lover. Wolves were fierce and he'd caught enough glimpses of his angel in warrior mode to know that Castiel could most definitely be fierce. Hell, he didn't think he'd ever forget that second meeting of theirs in Bobby's kitchen even if the memory of it pulled a completely different reaction from him now then it had before. Wolves were also very sociable animals, living together in packs and while he wouldn't call Castiel social in the traditional sense of the word, his angel did clearly get drawn to creating close bonds with people. And then there was also the loyalty aspect that was tied to all canines and that was most definitely something his lover had. Altogether it was easier to take in and accept then he'd feared it would be.  
  
"What color?" Dean asked. "Are you a solid color or mixed?"  
  
"Mixed, white and gray."  
  
Castiel seemed to relax a little against him and Dean realized that even if his lover might understand his natural reactions, it did affect him and he was glad he could help lessen it.  
  
"What are the new ones you've gained?"  
  
"One is a panther, another a phoenix-"  
  
Dean couldn't help it, he laughed. "A phoenix, seriously?"  
  
"Yes, Father is not without a sense of humor."  
  
"Forget humor, that's irony, though I suppose that it helps to remind all of the other angels of your history."  
  
"I had not thought of that."  
  
Surprisingly, Dean found the phoenix face comforting on some level even if the whole beak thing was harder to accept than the wolf muzzle thing. Probably because it was further from being human. The panther was easier to take as it was so similar to the wolf.  
  
"And the last two?" Dean asked.  
  
"A mouse-"  
  
"A mouse?"  
  
"Yes, Dean, all of Father's-"  
  
"- creatures are precious, whether they are large or small. Yeah, Michael already told me. It's just kinda surprising is all."  
  
And he was so not thinking about how Castiel with whiskers and a twitching nose might be cute. Not at all.  
  
"The final one is one that I fear you might misconstrue," Castiel stated.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"It is a creature that used to have a very good to mythical reputation but which has now become almost synonymous with evil for humans in modern times."  
  
The words made the hair on the back of Dean's neck rise as he recalled his earlier thoughts regarding one of Lucifer's faces. But no, it couldn't be, could it? And yet, while he couldn't remember ever having heard that they were once considered good, he couldn't think of another creature that was more often associated with evil than them.  
  
"A snake?" Dean questioned, almost not wanting to know the answer.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"But- Like Lucifer's face?"  
  
"No, we have different kinds. Mine is the ouroboros, which would be another example of my Father's sense of irony, as you put it."  
  
"Huh? A what now?"  
  
"An ouroboros," Castiel repeated patiently. "It is an ancient creature now often seen as either a snake or a dragon eating its own tail."  
  
"Why would it do that?"  
  
"It is meant to symbolize renewal and recreation, the cyclical nature of so many things and it is also often associated with the phoenix."  
  
"And it's a snake?"  
  
"Yes, Dean."  
  
"Huh."  
  
It was hard to disregard all of the common notions of snakes that he had, but Dean had to admit that the description Castiel gave was very fitting for his lover. Recreation especially. Not to mention the fact that he found it very comforting to have yet another appearance of the life after death in the most literal sense thing. Yes, his angel had already been brought back twice, but it gave him hope that God might be willing to do it a third time if that was ever necessary, though he seriously hoped that it never would be.  
  
"I guess that's the kind of snake that I could get behind," Dean finally admitted.


	82. Chapter 81

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's birthday.

**PAST**  
  
  
Dean woke to the feel of glorious wet heat on his cock. He moaned wantonly as he tried to buck up as the heat suddenly retreated, only to find that his hips were pinned to the bed making him mewl unthinkingly. The heat vanished entirely before a soft chuckle reached him.  
  
"Good morning, Dean."  
  
The voice was rougher than normal but unmistakable, not that there had been any doubt in Dean's mind. "Hey, Caaaa-"  
  
His words turned into another pleasure soaked moan as his lover swallowed him whole and then swallowed around the head of his cock. Dean didn't know how long Castiel had been sucking him off before he'd woken, but he couldn't imagine that it had been very long and yet he was almost ready to come. If it hadn't felt so amazing he'd have been embarrassed, but his angel's deep throating abilities were unparalleled and always got him off faster than almost anything else. As if sensing the direction his thoughts had gone, Castiel pulled back a bit so that his lover was sucking and tracing the vein of his cock with his tongue instead and he groaned a little in frustration though his fried mind was unable to come up with anything other than letting his angel do what he wanted, knowing it would be spectacular either way. His hands did reach down to bury themselves in the dark hair and what he could reach of one wing.  
  
The latter action drew a moan from Castiel and Dean groaned at the wonderful vibrations that caused. Then he lost track of everything as his lover picked up the pace and left him writing against the sheets, unable to do anything but beg and make embarrassing little noises before he came down his angel's throat. He melted against the bed as he basked in the post-orgasmic bliss, his body still pliant from sleep to make him entirely boneless.  
  
"Cas," Dean whispered when his lover pulled off and crawled up the bed.  
  
"Dean."  
  
Despite the urge to just let himself slip back into a blissful slumber, Dean forced his hand to move, reaching down to take care of his lover.  
  
"No, Dean," Castiel said, intercepting his hand and pressing it back into the mattress.  
  
"Cas, what?"  
  
Instead of replying, his angel leaned down and kissed him. Dean tasted himself in Castiel's mouth as he deepened the kiss and slipped his tongue into his lover's mouth. Now it was Castiel who made the approving sounds and he found himself oddly hesitant to turn the kiss truly dirty. There had been something strangely reverent about the way his angel had been treating him and it didn't make him feel uncomfortable for once. Instead he brought his hands up and gently ran them down his lover's sides, teasing the edges of his wings and making his angel moan. He trembled as Castiel pressed down against him, his lover's hard cock brushing his own oversensitive member and causing delicious little sparks to go off behind his eyelids.  
  
"Happy birthday, Dean," Castiel said, smiling.  
  
"Huh? What? It's the twenty-forth already?"  
  
Castiel laughed and shook his head before he leaned down and nipped at his jaw. "Only you."  
  
"What? There's kinda been a lot going on lately."  
  
"Not today, though. Today is for you."  
  
From anyone else, that line would have sounded like a sappy come-on, but coming from his angel, full of genuine emotion, it merely made Dean melt even further. Well that explained the emotion he'd been picking up on and he kissed Castiel again. He could definitely get used to being woken like that. The fact that his lover had not yet come, however, was something he didn't like so much but his hand was once again intercepted when he reached down between them.  
  
"Cas," Dean protested.  
  
"I want to come with you inside me."  
  
The words made Dean groan and his cock twitched but that was all it could do just now. "You really should have thought of that before you sucked me off."  
  
"Perhaps."  
  
With that Castiel reached down between them and Dean realized what he was going to do just before he felt sizzle of Grace along his skin and then he started to harden once more. He keened at the feeling of his over sensitized skin adjusting and wished not for the first time that they could always do this. Problem was they'd never get out of bed and his angel had said it would mean that he'd have to be healed more often as it wasn't the best thing in the world for him. Right now he didn't give a damn about that as he just wanted to bury himself in his lover. He reached up along Castiel's back, seeking out his oil glands, but his wrist was intercepted once again, only this time his hand was urged lower to his angel's ass.  
  
Before Dean could ask, Castiel was kissing him again and instead he felt along his lover's crack, instantly realized what it was his angel wanted him to find when his fingers slipped in oil. Another quick probe revealed that Castiel was already loose and he rolled them over without another thought. His lover's legs instantly parted and he pulled back from the kiss to look at the sight before him. Castiel was sprawled wantonly on the sheets, his utter lack of shame resulting in him freely expressing exactly how much he both liked and wanted this while still somehow managing to have a reverent and intense look on his face.  
  
Dean swallowed thickly at the thought that it was all for him, that expression and everything that went with it. For once the denial didn't rise within him as it usually always did and instead he was able to simply bask in the feeling as he ran gentle hands over his lover's vessel. His own growing need and the feel of wings pressing against his back, urging him on, sped him up but the reverence stayed even as his fingers found Castiel's oil glands and coaxed enough from them to prepare himself and to tease his angel. Now it was his lover that was writhing on the sheets and he could happily watch that for hours if he didn't know how long Castiel had already held himself off for.  
  
Sliding inside his lover felt like coming home in a way that Dean had never really known before and he lowered himself onto Castiel so that he could kiss his angel once more. His whole world was narrowed down to his lover: skin, lips, heat and feathers. They moved together almost as one, so much so that he couldn't immediately tell where he ended and Castiel began, not that he really cared to figure it out. Eventually though his thrusts started to speed up, encouraged by the way his lover's heels dug into his ass. He lowered one hand between their bodies while the other reached out into the masses of feathers that cocooned them, making his angel come with a shout. The way Castiel clenched around him was all he needed and he followed his lover over the edge.  
  
This time when Dean woke, it was far more slowly, his sated mind only giving up sleep reluctantly as it basked in the complete and utter relaxation of his body. Though he'd grown far more used to not hurting or feeling the effects of a strenuous hunt the following day, he had taken quite a pummeling from a poltergeist three days back and as he hadn't seen any of his angels, he'd toughed it out the human way, not wanting to distract them from anything important. Michael had not been particularly amused with him when he'd finally dropped by but what did they expect, that he called on them for every little hurt he got? Still, it was nice to be this boneless and to have it happen more than once in a morning? Now that was his idea of Heaven.  
  
"Mmm, morning, Cas," Dean greeted, realizing that he'd never quite managed to say it before.  
  
"Dean."  
  
When he finally opened his eyes, all that Dean could see at first was darkness and it took his eyes a few moments to adjust enough to realize that Castiel was still cocooning them in his wings. He smiled and turned his head enough to kiss his lover's neck before he moved to stretch. As he shifted, Dean could feel an unpleasant scratch and stretch that he hasn't felt in years. Glancing down he saw that, yes, there was dried semen on both of their torsos and in other places as well.  
  
"Uh, Cas?" Dean questioned.  
  
"Oops," Castiel replied, sounding far from apologetic. "I forgot. I guess we will need to shower now."  
  
It took a moment for that to sink in, but when it did Dean snorted and dropped his head back onto his lover's shoulder. "You forgot, huh?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"You do know that you don't need anything that elaborate to get me to put out, right Cas? I'm easy as you should well know by now."  
  
Castiel frowned at him. "I do not like it when you say such things about yourself."  
  
"'s not meant like that. It can be, but I just meant that I'm rarely not in the mood for sex."  
  
"Aren't all people?"  
  
Dean laughed. "Hell no! Come on, don't you remember all those times I made a comment and Sam pulled a bitch face or made some comment? And he's still a dude, lots of girls are even more picky when it comes to the right times to have sex."  
  
"Why would they not wish to mate frequently? It is a very pleasurable activity."  
  
"Damn right it is! And I don't know, it's a female thing. Guys are known for wanting sex more."  
  
The lack of understanding was plain on Castiel's face and it made Dean laugh. God but he'd corrupted his angel. While there were certain human things it most definitely bothered him to see his lover doing and others he never wanted to witness, this was certainly not one of them and he was proud that he'd been able to truly show Castiel the joys of sex.  
  
"Now, how about we go get wet?" Dean suggested.  
  
The world shifted around them and Dean yelped at the unexpected flight. The next thing he knew, he was cradled in his lover's arms in the shower, back against the wall.  
  
"Yes, please," Castiel stated just before the water turned on.  
  
/  
  
Dean all but moaned as he finished the last bite of his Heavenly breakfast. He'd already forgotten the foreign name it had, but damn was it good! If the food elsewhere was all as good as Castiel made it appear to be from what he brought back, then he'd seriously have to reconsider his aversion to travelling abroad. Especially now that he could skip the plane journey out entirely.  
  
"That was beyond amazing," Dean said, looking up at his lover.  
  
Castiel merely smiled and Dean lost sight of him for a moment as his eyes slid shut when he took another sip of his Colombian coffee. Real Colombian coffee. Just because he couldn't see his angel anymore didn't mean that Castiel wasn't still looking at him as he could quite literally feel that intense gaze on him just like it had been throughout his breakfast. These days he missed the sensation when his lover wasn't around rather than feeling stifled by it when Castiel was.  
  
"So, what else do you have planned for today?" Dean finally asked.  
  
He leaned back in his chair and basking in how wonderful his body felt, full and sated and with a more than pleasant burn from the shower sex they'd had. Dean would be more than happy to just stay in the motel room all day with his lover, but Castiel had mentioned something earlier about him needing his strength and from the lack of response his innuendo had gotten he knew that it wasn't for another sex marathon, wonderful as that sounded even now.  
  
"We're going on a little trip," Castiel stated with a cryptic smile.  
  
The answer made Dean pout as it didn't really tell him anything but then his angel was on his feet and pulling him up as well.  
  
"Do I need a coat?" Dean asked.  
  
"No, just hold on."  
  
For once Dean did as instructed and blinked when the shifting sensation ceased. It had been longer than normal and more like in the old days, before Castiel had become an archangel. His first thought was that someone clearly hadn't been able to let go of the past as he caught sight of a man with long hair and outdated clothing, but then he realized that  _everyone_  he could see was similarly attired. Realization was starting to dawn on him as he spun around but it still wasn't enough to prepare him for the sight of the large stadium behind him. Shock shot through his system and he turned back to look at his lover. It couldn't be, could it?  
  
"Cas?"  
  
Instead of replying, his angel merely held up an envelope and Dean tore it open, finding two tickets inside. "Zeppelin?" he squeaked. "You- time travel?"  
  
"Yes, Dean."  
  
The confirmation of his thoughts left Dean speechless for a moment and that seemed to amuse Castiel greatly but he couldn't find it in himself to care. His lover had just taken him back to one of the most renown Zeppelin concerts ever!  
  
"Look deeper," Castiel instructed, indicating the envelope.  
  
Wordlessly, Dean did so and found something he'd missed in his earlier excitement. Stuck behind the second of the two tickets was a VIP backstage pass. Bailing on words entirely and not caring that they were surrounded by potentially homophobic strangers, he grabbed Castiel's tie and pulled him close for a kiss.  
  



	83. Chapter 82

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean receives another call from the Vatican.

**PAST**  
  
  
Dean was so deep into the woods that he was both surprised and impressed when his cell phone rang. He wouldn't have thought that he'd get coverage this far out, but obviously he was wrong. He pulled it out of his pocket and quickly glanced down at the number before answering the call. His eyebrows rose at the long and unfamiliar number before he realized that it was similar to the one that had been in his call history after the Vatican had contacted him that one time.  
  
"Hello," Dean said, turning his eyes back to the burning chupacabra corpse.  
  
"Hello, am I speaking to Mr. Dean Winchester?" the voice was male and heavily accented but the English was still clearly understandable.  
  
"Yeah, you from the Vatican?"  
  
"Yes, Sir."  
  
Dean had to bite back the instinctive reply that came to mind. Not only would the man probably not get it, but the Vatican had been kind enough to just let them walk off with the Jewel of Abel and several priceless books. Not only did he know how valuable such alliances were just now, but he really didn't want to have to explain to Castiel what he'd done if he fucked this one up.  
  
"Would it be possible for you to make another trip here? We have found some more informations about Lucifer and would like to know how else we could be of service to you."  
  
"Uh, now?" Dean asked, wondering when these trans-Atlantic trips had become such a regular occurrence.  
  
If he wasn't careful, he'd find himself just being dragged along for day trips to Japan and New Zealand soon. Though he bet real Japanese food was probably amazing, not to mention what a genuine kiwi burger in New Zealand might taste like. Maybe he should just let it all happen.  
  
"If that is okay with you."  
  
"Lemme check and get back to you on that. Is this number okay to use?"  
  
"Yes, Sir. We will await your reply."  
  
 _We will await your reply_? Seriously, who the hell still spoke like that? Stuffy religious nutters obviously. Even with all that Dean had learned the past few years, he still couldn't get people who devoted their entire lives to religion. Rather the opposite, in fact, as he'd gone from not believing in God to learning that He was just another deadbeat dad who didn't give a crap about what his children did to humans. Not to mention the fact that with Catholicism there was also the whole celibacy thing. He shuddered just thinking of it, what kind of guy did that anyway? He had to wonder where it came from seeing as how angels definitely didn't all have an aversion to sex. In fact, the two he knew who'd had sex both had clearly loved it.  
  
The thought made Dean think back to his birthday (And had it really been several weeks already? Man how time seemed to fly lately!) fondly. When all was said and done, he and Castiel had just about had as much sex as he could handle in one day. It was as his thoughts turned to the other things that had happened that day that he found his hand creeping up to the new necklace he now wore. It had been a gift from Michael when the archangel had shown up in the afternoon just as he and Castiel were about to have some phenomenal birthday pie that his lover had gotten from France after they'd returned to the present. God but it had been nearly good enough to die for and he'd even managed to talk Michael into trying a piece despite the fact that a part of him just wanted to hog the whole thing for himself.  
  
Anyone else looking at the necklace would simply see an ancient little gold and jade amulet hung on a simple leather chord, much like the necklace he'd worn before. Well, anyone human who looked at it that was. Himself, the angels and various supernatural creatures would be able to see the two feathers that hung beside the amulet, one chocolate brown and the other inky black; Michael's and Castiel's. It was amazing as even without looking at them he could tell the two feathers apart just by the feelings they awoke within him. It was ancient magic, something Michael knew from before that not only allowed the feathers to remain after being separated from the rest of the wings, something which didn't happen for more than a few minutes normally, but something which also allowed them to be tied to a physical object that they would normally pass straight through. They still passed through everything else though, meaning that he felt the feathers brushing against his chest regardless of whether or not he was wearing any clothing, something which was a surprising comfort. The only thing he hadn't liked as much about the whole thing was the fact that Castiel and Michael had to pull one of their feathers to make the necklace, but since it had already happened by the time he'd found out about it, he'd not said anything.  
  
It had surprised Dean how good it felt to be wearing something like this again as he'd never quite realized how much he'd missed the comforting weight of his old amulet. It made sense though, given how long he'd worn the other one for, but it was probably due to the fact that he'd been so furious at Sam and that Castiel had called it worthless that he'd blocked the loss out subconsciously, not wanting to think about it too much. An unexpected side benefit of the new one was the way his lover's eyes always darted down to it and the look of satisfaction Castiel got upon seeing that he was still wearing it even if it was Michael's gift and contained one of the first angel's feathers as well as that of his lover. He could only imagine that it was similar to the little thrills he'd used to get upon seeing Cassie or Lisa wearing one of his shirts.  
  
Briefly Dean thought of calling his lover and his thumb hovered over the number one button on his cell, as he'd given the most prominent speed dial slot to Castiel long ago, but then he stopped. The angels had set up a guard rotation around Lucifer's cage to ensure that Simiel didn't do what Raphael had for Michael and pulled Lucifer out. After they'd performed the Rite of Contressa, Raphael had noticed that Lucifer appeared to be significantly weakened which meant that without any outside help, it would take him considerably longer to break out of the cage. He'd been overjoyed at hearing this as it gave them more time to figure something out, but the downside was that it also meant less time with his lover as they really needed an archangel present at all times to dissuade Simiel from launching an attack on those guarding the cage. And right now was Castiel's turn.  
  
So that left Raphael and Michael. Dean briefly considered calling Raphael as the archangel had made this trip before and thus was known to the Vatican, but then he paused. Maybe it was a good idea that they also met Michael in case the archangel ever needed to contact them for any reason. Then a wicked grin crossed his face as he remembered a long rant Cassie had gone on about the misogyny of the Roman Catholic Church when she'd done an article about some bishop or something for a local paper and he could just imagine what meeting a female Michael would do to them. It would definitely shake things up a bit, that was for sure and he found that he really, really,  _really_  wanted to see their reactions. It would teach them right for being so prejudiced. Plus he also felt it was something all of the women he knew would appreciate.  
  
"Michael," Dean said, fingering the chocolate feather on his necklace.  
  
The two archangels had assured him that there was no kind of feedback reaching them from the feathers, but Dean still found himself toying with them when he thought of one or the other. It was a habit he would need to watch around others or he'd need to at least make it look like he was toying with the amulet instead or he'd look more than a little crazy. Well with normal people anyway, hunters would at least be able to understand the concept of invisible charms though they might be a bit suspicious.  
  
"If you've got a moment, could you pop by, please? It's nothing urgent."  
  
Dean wasn't even sure if the archangel could hear what he said beyond his name, but he did remember that Michael had been aware of his emotional state the time he'd been with the succubus. So at the very least the archangel should know that he wasn't particularly worked up or hurt now. The lack of an immediate appearance told him that something had gotten through and he turned his attention back to the fire in front of him as he tried to decide how long he could wait before he should call the Vatican back. He didn't exactly know what normal protocol was in these situations. He'd just decided to give it half an hour when he heard the flutter of wings behind him.  
  
"Hello, Dean," Michael greeted.  
  
"Heya, Mike, do you have some free time this afternoon? We got an invite from the Vatican, they say they might have some new stuff for us and they want to know how else they can help."  
  
"For that I have time. Would you like to go now?"  
  
Even before Dean could point out that the chupacabra hadn't finished burning yet, the corpse suddenly flared up in the same violent light as Anna had and then the fire went out leaving nothing but ash.  
  
"Show off," Dean muttered, picking up his shotgun. "Could we stop back at the room first? I'm staying at the Village Main motel off of the only highway in town. Oh, and don't forget-"  
  
"The Impala. Do not worry, Little One, I would not."  
  
Dean wondered what it said that Michael didn't need reminding of his baby. Either he'd trained the archangel well enough already or someone else, Castiel most likely, had told Michael how important she was to him. Well, either that or Michael had noticed it for himself, though he couldn't particularly recall ever having been with his baby much while the archangel was around. In fact, if the Impala were a person instead of just his baby, he knew she'd be resentful of how much he'd been neglecting her lately and he made a mental note to give her a good overhaul just as soon as the weather improved. Or he could just head South and do it there. He was sure he could find some small hunts to do between Apocalypse research while down there and there could well be some religious libraries in the area that they hadn't looked at yet, what with it being the Bible belt and all.  
  
The world shifted around them and then they were in his room.  
  
"Give me five," Dean said as he grabbed a new set of clothes and quickly called the Vatican back to give them an ETA.  
  
What he was currently wearing was covered in dirt, sweat and chupacabra blood from the hunt, not to mention the fact that he smelled like smoke. It wasn't so much that he cared what they thought of him, but when he and Raphael had gone to the Vatican, they'd been there for a while and he'd really rather not be wearing what he was now for that long. He took a lightning fast shower, changed his clothes and redid his hair before stepping back out into the main room.  
  
"These are from the Vatican, right?" Michael asked, indicating one of the piles of books in the room.  
  
"Yeah," Dean replied. "I think we're done with all of their books except for  _A Treatise on the Origin of Demons_."  
  
"Very well."  
  
It no longer made Dean pause to see one of his angelic companions display a show of such strength as Michael picking up all of the books with one hand and no effort, but it did make him smile.  
  
"Let's go," Dean said, stepping close to the archangel.  
  
When the world reformed around Dean, he found himself back in the same room he'd been in the last time. And, just like back then, it was filled with a lot of people, all of them male, drawing a little smile from him. Unlike the last time, however, a lot of the people present were dressed like clowns. Or at least clowns were the closest thing that he could think of given that they weren't actually wearing any face paint, but it was a fairly accurate description for what they were wearing. It was striped blue and yellow with red and orange worked into it. The pants were those puffy ones that they'd worn in the past with what looked like tights that covered part of their shoes. There were also white gloves and a stiff, frilly white neck collar thing, like Shakespeare sometimes wore in the books Sam had read of him, and a belt with a sword. The whole getup was topped off with either a black or silver helmet with multiple colors and a purple feather of some kind. He could also spot a few more subdued, crimson versions of the costume present in the room as well.  
  
Dean was so distracted by the outfits that it took him a moment to realize who else was present. He didn't know much about the Roman Catholic Church, but even he knew who the scarlet-robed figures were or the old guy dressed in elaborate white robes with a white skull cape of some kind, at least that was what it looked like to him. His eyes nearly popped out of his head as he realized that the pope had shown up for their visit. He knew the guy was there to see whatever angel accompanied him, but still, the pope! The thought of how jealous Sam would be- again!- was enough of a distraction to make him realize that someone was addressing them.  
  
"Sorry, what?" Dean asked.  
  
"Thank you for coming," the man repeated and Dean realized it was the dude from the phone.  
  
"Yeah, well, your previous books helped us greatly. We've brought most of them back, we're just keeping one for now."  
  
The gesture that Dean made towards the stack of books that had been deposited on a nearby table reminded him that he'd yet to introduce Michael and he could see how the archangel was the center of attention. He half turned towards his friend and that seemed to be all the invitation the guy needed.  
  
"Who is this angel lady?"  
  
Dean bit back a smile. "This is the archangel Michael."  
  
The reaction was instantaneous and a ripple of shock, awe and disbelief spread through the room. For his part, Michael seemed more confused than anything else and that made Dean really smile. The action drew the archangel's attention and he nudged his feathered friend.  
  
"You've just displaced Raphael as the most impressive visitor they've ever had here," Dean whispered.  
  
"Why are they so surprised?" Michael inquired.  
  
"'Cause Aunt Deirdre is female."  
  
"And?"  
  
"And the church is heavily pro-male and anti-female."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Dunno. Maybe because of Eve and what she did."  
  
It hadn't occurred to Dean quite how close Michael was standing to him until he realized that the guy he'd been speaking to before hadn't been able to overhear what the two of them had said to each other. This particular archangel wasn't as bad as Castiel had originally been, but it was a close call.  
  
"Michael?" another voice demanded.  
  
When Dean turned around it was to find someone dressed in the scarlet clown outfit approaching them. The man was of average height and built with close-cropped dark hair and eyes. Clown guy wore glasses but they did nothing to diminish the air of authority that surrounded him even within this room where there were clearly men of far higher rank present. Dean resisted the urge to straighten his spine and come to attention.  
  
"Yes," Michael replied, clearly not disturbed by the ridiculous costume.  
  
That was probably the most jarring part of the whole thing. If Dean had only seen the man's face, he'd have said clown guy was a down to Earth, take no shit kind of person. It was rare that he was this wrong about someone, so he was wondering if he wasn't just missing something entirely here. In addition to having the strangest desire to straighten his spine, he also felt the urge to start addressing the guy as 'Sir' in the same way Dad and some of John's old marine buddies had inspired and that just kinda pissed him off coming from clown guy. As was the suspicious look in the man's eyes.  
  
"And who are you?" Dean demanded, swallowing the word hell he'd normally have inserted into that sentence.  
  
The question seemed to startle clown guy as well as several of the other people around them and Dean frowned. Was he supposed to know this man? He racked his brain for something but came up empty. It had to have something to do with the stupid costume clown guy was wearing as it was too distinctive to not be instantly recognizable. It was just too bad for them that he didn't know enough about the Roman Catholic Church to know what it represented.  
  
"I'm Colonel Daniel Rudolf Anrig, Commander of the Pontifical Swiss Guard," clown guy stated rather proudly.  
  
"Pointy Swiss Guard?" Dean repeated confused.  
  
The facial expression clown guy pulled would have been enough to make Dean laugh under any other circumstances, but something about the man's posture put him on edge. This guy was highly trained and dangerous, that he knew for sure as Dad had taught him how to look past deceptive appearances from a young age and clown guy clearly carried himself as someone ready and able to fight at a moment's notice. Not that it made his appearance any less moronic.  
  
"Pontifical," clown guy corrected tersely. "And we are the Papal security force."  
  
"Oh, okay. So, Anriky, what do you want with Mike?"  
  
Clown guy's facial muscles twitched at his butchering of the man's name and then again at his nickname for the archangel and Dean was almost starting to have fun with this. He'd always had an unhealthy fascination with making overtly formal people lose their stuffiness, usually by outraging them somehow, and clown guy clearly fit the bill despite his ridiculous getup.  
  
"We have received word from Belgium," Anrig stated pulling out a piece of paper from the folder he held. "And Father Pieter-Jan says that this is Michael."  
  
When clown guy turned the sheet of paper around, Dean found himself looking at a startlingly good drawing of himself.


	84. Chapter 83

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Michael explain angelic vessels to the Vatican.

**PAST**  
  
  
"Crap," Dean muttered.  
  
He'd just known that the whole possessed vessel thing was going to come back and bite him in the ass. Dean just hadn't expected it to happen here, in Europe. He'd thought himself safe over here as there was no one he knew that they might run into unlike back home as had already happened with Roy. It had been a foolish assumption apparently and damn but he really needed to do some background research into the Vatican and the power and reach of the Roman Catholic Church. Grudgingly he acknowledged that this would not have happened if Sam had been with them as his little brother would have gone nuts at the excuse to do some in-depth research into a topic that had as much lore, information and mysticism associated with it as this religion did.  
  
"Well?" Clown guy demanded.  
  
"It's... complicated," Dean replied lamely, suddenly hyperaware of exactly how many people were in the room.  
  
Normally he didn't suffer from performance anxiety of any kind, but Dean knew that this was a bit different from the situations he normally found himself in. Not the least because the Vatican  _was_  such a powerful ally to have and they were clearly well connected. He briefly cursed Father Pieter-Jan but then made himself stop. The priest had probably felt so incredibly blessed and special to have met  _the_  archangel that he'd probably sent word back to Rome as soon as he'd been able to. And none of that would have been a problem if neither the priest nor someone else hadn't been such an excellent artist.  
  
"Complicated? Is it really, Michael?" Anrig questioned, stepping closer.  
  
Dean blinked in disbelief and shock. "Dude, you really think that  _I'm_  Michael?"  
  
The look of doubt that crossed clown guy's face told Dean all that he needed to know. He clearly wasn't their idea of an angel, let alone the lofty Michael himself, but Father Pieter-Jan must have told them about what he'd witnessed as they weren't willing to let go of the idea entirely just yet. He nearly groaned as he realized that they were going to have to explain the whole vessel thing to everyone present here. He'd kinda hoped to avoid that as talking about vessels would inevitably lead to questions about who could host an angel and, he feared, it might eventually turn to talk about  _Lucifer's_  vessel and that was something he'd rather avoid altogether. The last thing they needed was some rogue vigilante to go after Sam thinking that he was saving the world from the devil himself by eliminating Lucifer's one true vessel.  
  
No way was he letting someone like that go after his little brother, estranged or not.  
  
"Dean told you the truth, I am Michael," the archangel declared firmly.  
  
"Is this an exam?" the phone dude asked. "Do we need to pass to prove ourselves worthy?"  
  
"No."  
  
This time Dean did groan as he knew that Michael simply wasn't going to get through to them that way. "Okay, stop. Does she look like an angel to you?"  
  
"No," clown guy replied, startled.  
  
Dean could understand the man's surprise as at first glance it seemed like he'd completely switched his position around. "How about Raphael, did he look like an angel?"  
  
There was a low murmur in the room now and Dean could sense the growing confusion and rising tension. Almost absently he picked up the subtle hand gesture clown guy made and the way his clown men responded, slowly moving either closer to himself and Michael or moving to protect the pope where the old man stood with his cardinals.  
  
"Are you saying none of them- Michael, Raphael and Castiel- are really angels?" phone guy demanded, voice higher with something like fear now.  
  
"Not at all," Dean countered quickly, not wanting to lose control of this situation. "Just ask Father Mancini if he's here somewhere."  
  
"Here," a familiar voice called out and Dean turned to see him pushing his way towards them. "Dean right, Castiel is an angel. He had wings of shadow."  
  
"He showed them to you?" Michael questioned in surprise.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"You should be honored, we do not show our wings to many."  
  
Father Mancini's eyes opened wide at that statement and he looked close to passing out. Dean nearly stepped forwards to help but was beaten to it by Father Giordano who seemingly materialized out of thin air. The sudden appearance of familiar faces helped put him at ease and he wondered why they hadn't just had Father Giordano contact him this time like before. It would make things so much easier if he had a consistent point of contact and he'd have to see if he couldn't arrange for that to be the case. Surely neither Giordano nor Mancini would mind.  
  
"They weren't wings of shadow," Dean corrected. "But rather the shadow of one of his pairs of wings."  
  
"The shadow? Why the shadow?" clown guy demanded.  
  
"Because the actual wings are part of Castiel's true form and that is something most humans can't bear to see."  
  
"Wait, slow down," phone guy requested.  
  
Surprised, Dean turned around and was startled to find that people seemed to be talking to each other behind the man. Or no, not talking, translating. Glancing around, he found that it was happening everywhere and even Father Mancini seemed unable to keep up on his own, relying instead on Father Giordano to keep him abreast of what was going on. This clearly wasn't going to work as they hadn't even gotten to the most difficult bits yet. He briefly considered trying to say it Latin but quickly dismissed the notion, not only was his Latin not nearly good enough, but he doubted that things like 'vessel' and 'true form' would translate well into such an archaic language. Which left only one other option.  
  
"What language do most people present speak or at the very least understand to a reasonable degree?" Dean asked, glancing back at clown guy.  
  
"Excuse me?" Anrig replied.  
  
"What language? Is it Italian?"  
  
"Most of us do speak Italian, yes. Why?"  
  
It would be far easier to show them than to explain it so Dean turned instead to Michael. "Can you give me Italian? Like Cas gave me Enochian?"  
  
"Yes. Would you like me to it here and now?"  
  
"Please," Dean said as he stepped closer. "You've been awfully quiet, by the way."  
  
"I thought it best not to interfere where I know so little," Michael replied.  
  
"Dean?" Father Mancini called out.  
  
"Just a moment," Dean responded. "This will make things much easier."  
  
Michael had two fingers on his forehead but Dean didn't feel anything until their eyes met and he nodded once. Just like before, he felt like something was being poured into his mind and it made his brain feel like it was swelling. Having experienced it once before, he was prepared for the headache that slammed into him but he was also more willing to allow his mind to tune everything out as he knew how it all ended. When he came round again, he had the weirdest sense of deja vu as he found himself once again resting his head on an angel's shoulder while said angel had an arm wrapped around his waist. Only this time he was also aware of the wings cradling his body as well and the archangel in question was Michael rather than Castiel. Despite that, he allowed himself a moment to just catch his breath and reorient himself though he did start listening to what was going on around him.  
  
"So these vessels allow you the interact with us without risking our health?"  
  
The flow of the speech and the grammar of the question was so much smoother and better then he was used to hearing that it took Dean a moment to recognize Father Mancini as the speaker. It took him a few more seconds to realize that it had been spoken entirely in Italian. Damn but that was never going to get any less weird! Thanks to the Enochian he'd already gotten downloaded into his skull a few months ago, he'd gotten used to how this whole other language thing really worked, but it still felt odd. It was as if the Italian hadn't fully settled in yet in the same way that the Enochian had as it took him a bit longer to figure it out than the angelic language did.  
  
"Yes, that is precisely it."  
  
"And you were using Dean Winchester as your vessel when you went to see Father Pieter-Jan in Belgium for the blessing from the boy?"  
  
That one was clown guy and Dean realized that Michael must have explained far more then he'd thought possible in such a short amount of time. The moment he started moving, the wings wrapped around him shifted and pulled back, allowing him to see the room around them. The other men, some of whom he recognized from before and some of whom he didn't, had all drawn closer and hung onto every word that the archangel was saying. He did notice, however, that while the pope and his cardinals had come forward a little, they were still further off. Were they waiting for the all clear from Anrig to make the final approach? It made logical sense now that he thought about it, especially if there had been doubts as to exactly who and what he was, but it still kinda surprised him that they were being this cautious when there were angels involved.  
  
"Yes," Michael confirmed before turning his attention to him. "Dean? Are you feeling better?"  
  
"Yeah, the headache's just about gone." Dean didn't need the collective intake of breath to know that he'd startled almost everyone around them. He'd made it more than clear during his previous visit that he didn't understand  _any_  Italian whatsoever, so to have him suddenly speaking in it had to be quite unexpected. "Thanks."  
  
"It was my pleasure, Little One."  
  
The use of the nickname in front of others who weren't related to either of them made Dean scowl. "Dude,  _not_  cool!"  
  
Michael merely raised an eyebrow as Dean took a step back and that just made him scowl even more. Okay so there were clearly human characteristics and traits he didn't like to see the archangel pick up, or at least not if Michael intended to use them against him. That just wasn't fair, dammit.  
  
"How? What?" phone guy questioned.  
  
"Michael just downloaded Italian into my brain," Dean explained succinctly. "I figured it would make things easier than having to deal with multiple languages."  
  
The information surprised them but it didn't seem to hold clown guy back for very long. Not that this caught Dean off-guard as he was quickly starting to view the man as some kind of federal agent equivalent only more versed in his world and all that went with it. It drew a reluctant sort of admiration from him even if Anrig's whole demeanor still annoyed him, but that probably had more to do with the fact that he was on the wrong end of it then anything else.  
  
"Why were you using him as your vessel then and not now?" clown guy demanded.  
  
"Because what we needed in Belgium was part of a Rite with very strict requirements and as my true vessel, Dean was the only one who could fulfil them," Michael replied.  
  
"True vessel?"  
  
"I am an archangel, there are almost none who can contain my full power and not be adversely affected by it. Dean is one of those rare few."  
  
Oh great, now he was the center of attention yet again. Dean really wished that he could slink off to a dark corner just about now and leave everything to the archangel as Michael seemed to be doing a good job of it on his own and he really didn't like being the center of attention, not like this. When he was in control, then sure, bring it on, but not like this and not for these reasons. Freaking angels.  
  
"Then why are you not in him now?" Anrig asked.  
  
"Because Dean is so much more than a mere vessel," Michael responded before Dean could stop him. "Father clearly has more planned for him than simply housing me."  
  
"Can we get on with things?" Dean inquired, hoping to change the topic of conversation before the archangel started blabbing his mouth off even more. And what had he been thinking letting Michael talk anyway, he should have known something like this would come up. "You called us here for a reason, right?"  
  
"Is it normal for family members to both be vessels like Dean and his aunt here?" clown guy demanded.  
  
Dean's head snapped around to stare at Anrig as his entire body tensed. "How the hell do you know that?"  
  
"Excus-"  
  
"How do you know who she is?"  
  
The way clown guy's hand tightened on the folder he held would have gone unnoticed by most people, but not by Dean. He caught it and then his eyes snapped up to Anrig's face and he could tell that the man knew what he'd seen. He took a step forward to demand that clown guy hand it over, but the guy stepped back at the same moment, clearly not intending to make things easy for him. There was a flutter of wings and then Michael stood right beside Anrig and the archangel had grabbed the folder from the man's grasp before clown guy even realized that the angel was there. Then Michael was beside him once more, handing him the folder.  
  
"Thanks," Dean said, startled.  
  
He hadn't expected the archangel to do that but he'd been the center of Castiel's attention often enough to no longer be freaked by how closely Michael must have been observing him to have caught his silent exchange with clown guy. Anrig sputtered a bit but then didn't quite seem to know what to do and he could kinda sympathize with the poor dude. After all, an  _archangel_  had just deprived him of what he'd intended to keep hidden, that had to smart, not to mention that the guy probably had no idea what to do next as he wouldn't want to go against Michael of all beings.  
  
With a small smirk, Dean opened the folder and then froze in surprise. Staring straight back up at him was a small photo of himself clipped to what looked to be a fact sheet with his personal details.


	85. Chapter 84

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Michael deal with the fact that the Vatican has dug into Dean's past.

PAST  
  
  
The incredulity kept Dean frozen for a few long moments before he was able to really read the document. It listed all of his basic stats like date of birth, place of birth, parents, siblings, aunts and uncles, grandparents, current age, height and weight, hair color, eye color and so on and so forth. Then there was also a record of each and every time he'd gotten into trouble with the law as well as a list of all of his so-called crimes using the wording of the police records like 'grave desecration,' 'satanic rituals,' and 'ritualistic serial killer.'  
  
As detailed as the first few sections had been, however, that was as how sparse the rest of it was; nothing but a bare skeleton that hardly scratched the surface. They correctly had the make and model of the Impala down as well as her color, but there was nothing for her number plate or her history. Under acquaintances it listed Pastor Jim and Bobby but that was about it. There was nothing about Caleb, Ellen, Jo or any of the other hunters they'd used to interact with frequently. Occupation, religion and relationships, both past and present, had not been filled in and both the list of schools he'd attended as a child and places he'd been to recently were woefully lacking. Not that he considered that a bad thing and it showed that they didn't know everything.  
  
Still, the fact that they had this document at all had him in shock and Dean was slightly numb as he turned over the page to find copies of most of his mug shots along with photos from the ordeal in Milwaukee and a few other random shots. This was then followed by copies of all of the police reports from whenever he'd been arrested or even merely suspected of a crime by the authorities and a far more detailed listing of exactly what he'd been arrested for on each separate occasion. Hell, he wouldn't be surprised now if they had a copy of the tape Detective Sheridan had made of him back in Baltimore. He was so focused on the paperwork and spreading it out on one of the tables that he totally failed to notice how close Michael had gotten until the archangel was practically on top of him, looking over his shoulder.  
  
"What is all of this?" Michael demanded, a dark edge to his voice.  
  
It reminded Dean abruptly of the archangel's anger at learning that the FBI and cops had been after him in the past. The reaction now kinda warmed him as it showed another level of caring for him, but on the other hand it also proved how little Michael still knew about humanity to think that what he did for a living would be perceived as anything other than sheer madness at best by normal people.  
  
"A background check," Anrig replied, voice tense.  
  
Dean looked up at clown guy feeling like he'd been sucker punched and left almost totally open even if the file was missing critical pieces of information. The shock was finally starting to wear off, though, but he still didn't quite know how to feel about all of this. There was anger there, sure, but beyond that he was more mystified than anything else. There was, however, also plenty of wariness. Almost each and every time someone in the past had come to know so much about what he did as the Vatican now did it just hadn't ended well for him. Most people simply didn't understand as they didn't- or  _wouldn't_ \- see what was out there and therefore thought the worst when they say things like 'grave desecration' or 'satanic rituals' on his rap sheet. And, somehow, he didn't think that the Roman Catholic Church would look on either of those any more kindly than the FBI or other law enforcement agencies had. Hell, they'd probably have even more issues with those, especially the latter of the two. It would explain the presence of the pointy Swiss guard this time around, if not that of the pope and the cardinals.  
  
"A background check?" Dean repeated dully. "Why?"  
  
"Do you have any idea how many miraculous events get reported to us every single day?" Anrig questioned. "Countless numbers and among those are a surprising number of accounts of people who claim that they've met an angel or been visited by one in their dreams."  
  
"Seriously?"  
  
The strange look he got for that made Dean think that while he might be using the right Italian word, the meaning of the expression might be lost in the translation. Well, either that or clown guy was just too stuffy for that kind of slang.  
  
"So, what?" Dean tried again. "You thought this was a hoax? Even with what Father Mancini saw?"  
  
"It had crossed our minds," Anrig admitted. "As did the possibility of it being either demonic possession or a demonic trap of some kind."  
  
Dean's hand shot out to grasp Michael's arm even before he'd fully processed what clown guy had said as he'd felt the subtle shift in the air as the power coiled tighter around the archangel and the feathers on Michael's wings ruffled in anger. The look he received was one of annoyance and reluctant assent and he knew exactly what emotions he'd be feeling from Michael right now if the archangel had been in him. And no, dammit, that still sounded far too wrong; if he'd been the archangel's vessel right now, there that was much better. The realization, though, sent a little thrill of fear through him as he thought of how close that meant they'd grown after just two relatively short stints together but, just like before, he unceremoniously shoved the thought from his mind. There really was nothing he could do about the situation so it was no use worrying about it.  
  
The whole thing with Michael was enough of a distraction that it took Dean a few moments to understand the true importance of what had been said. Demonic possession or a demonic trap. If they knew about demons, then it wasn't too big of a big jump to assume that they knew about hunters as well, so perhaps things weren't that bad here.  
  
But first things first.  
  
"Come on, Mike, it's a logical fear. Hel- ck,  _I_  was sure that Cas was a demon the first time I met him."  
  
 _That_  seemed to get clown guy's attention. "You didn't know he was an angel right away?"  
  
"Castiel never informed me of this," Michael said.  
  
"Yeah, well, it's true so Bobby and I shot him full of rock salt and then I stabbed him with the demon-killing knife when he first came to me."  
  
The little shocked choking noises coming from around them seemed to amuse Michael as the archangel regarded him. "Strangely I can picture you doing precisely that despite your current relationship with Castiel. I assume you did not believe him either when he told you what he was."  
  
"Of course not," Dean replied even as he couldn't help but start to understand clown guy's need to check into his past. "Not even after he showed me the shadows of his wings. I was convinced it was all some type of elaborate demon trap somehow."  
  
There was an understanding in Michael's eyes now that made Dean feel very raw and vulnerable even before the archangel spoke. "Yes, you would think that over being able to believe that something good was happening to you."  
  
The little squawk sound that escaped Dean only served to embarrass him even more but he just couldn't seem to get his voice to work properly. Damn angels and their ability to read him like an open book if they really wanted to and damn them for their complete and utter lack of understanding when it came to social norms and what one did and didn't say aloud, much less in public surrounded by complete strangers. And damn Michael and Castiel for being able to render him speechless so easily, it was just happening far too damn often lately for his liking, leaving him feeling stripped bare in a way that he hadn't allowed anyone else to make him feel in a very long time.  
  
"You have done your checks, now you will cease this activity and leave Dean alone," Michael ordered, casting an uncompromising glare at Anrig.  
  
Though at least both of his archangels had the decency to cover him after stripping him bare of his own defenses. Still, damn them both for doing it in the first place.  
  
"All we needed was to know was who and what he was," clown guy replied before his eyes turned back to Dean. "You are a hunter."  
  
"Yeah," Dean confirmed, a little startled and more than a bit relieved.  
  
"We are one of the world's largest religious centers, did you really think we would know nothing of the Darkness that walks among us?"  
  
"I'm not used to dealing with people who know, rather the opposite in fact."  
  
"We have long fought demons and other unnatural creatures," Anrig declared. "All of my men have undergone basic training regarding the supernatural in case anything should try and enter here."  
  
"Does that happen often?" Dean asked, surprised.  
  
"It is not unheard of though it is rare due to our wards and protection spells."  
  
And wasn't that just a kicker? Dean couldn't help but find the thought of the Vatican itself being protected by magic as well as the consecrated ground it had been built on as being funny. After all, seriously? Too bad he couldn't tell some of the religious nutters about that one, well he could but they'd never believe him so there was no point really. The last thing he wanted to do was get into an argument with one of them as there was simply no reasoning with them. Just the memory of the look in the eyes of the man he'd gone to when he intended to give in to Michael before the whole confrontation in Stull was still enough to make him shudder.  
  
Despite all of his experience with angels, even Dean jumped when Michael's hand suddenly stretched over his shoulder and all of his police records burst into flame. Instead of reacting in alarm like the others, though, he merely looked over his shoulder and raised his eyebrows at the archangel as he took in the dark look on Michael's face.  
  
"Was that really necessary?" Dean asked.  
  
"Yes. The reminder of them hunting you angers me," Michael stated simply.  
  
"Yeah, well, you do realize that burning these paper records doesn't really change anything, right? They're just printouts of electronic records the cops and feds still have."  
  
The look darkened even more and Dean was glad that he wasn't on the wrong side of it. A pissed off archangel was not a good thing to face as he now had ample proof of both visually and otherwise. He resisted the urge to reach up and touch the spot Simiel's sword had skewered him.  
  
"How are those records destroyed?"  
  
"By destroying whatever central server they're stored on and no, I don't know where that is, nor do I know how to find out."  
  
"Or by having the records deleted off the FBI mainframe database," Anrig added. "And that has already been taken care of."  
  
Dean's head snapped around to look at clown guy at that pronouncement. "What?"  
  
"We have already had these records deleted, the FBI no longer possesses them."  
  
"You have people in the FBI?"  
  
"We have people in many different organizations, agencies and governments throughout the world."  
  
"And they do things of this nature just like that?"  
  
"When it is deemed necessary, yes."  
  
"So there's nothing there anymore?"  
  
"No, there is still a record that there was once a case about you, but there is no longer any actual information in the file. We knew if it was completely erased that questions might arise if an agent who worked your case were ever to discover that, so instead we have made it look like the whole thing was archived and special authorization would be needed to access it," Anrig explained. "We will be informed if such an attempt is ever made."  
  
"What about Sam's file?"  
  
"We have done the same for your brother's records, the two were too intertwined for us to be able to remove just one of them without doing the same for the other."  
  
"Why? Why did you do all of that?"  
  
It was all so sudden and so much that Dean just couldn't figure it out. Yes he'd known that the Roman Catholic Church was powerful, but he'd never thought that the Vatican might have people in organizations and governments that could pull off things like this. Not to mention that fact that he'd never have considered that they'd do this for him even if he had known they were capable of it. He was instantly wary of the whole thing but this time at least he knew why and damn Castiel and Michael for making him start to think that perhaps such automatic and instinctual resistance to good news wasn't necessarily the right kind of attitude to have. Freaking angels.  
  
"You are obviously chosen and fighting the Apocalypse," phone guy stated, speaking up for the first time in a while. "As such you cannot afford to be detained or have your actions curtailed by those who are not aware of or do not understand the importance of your mission. It was the least we could do to help."  
  
"It is appreciated," Michael stated, seemingly a lot calmer now.  
  
"Yeah," Dean echoed, still not having regained his equilibrium yet.  
  
This was so not what he'd been expected when he'd had first caught sight of the fact sheet about himself but for once it was a good thing and for that Dean was glad. He glanced down at the ashes that were all that was left of the printouts of his so-called criminal record and he frowned when he realized that there was more to the folder clown guy had and that it hadn't all burned. Apparently Michael could choose to burn just that which offended him. He brushed aside the ashes and was startled to find a photo of Sam underneath it. After that was a photo of his father, then one of his mother, followed by one each of his grandparents, Aunt Deirdre, Pastor Jim, Castiel, Raphael, Ruby the second and then a few of people he either didn't know or only vaguely recognized.  
  
Dean froze as he turned a photo over and caught sight of the one underneath it. Lucifer, or at least the fallen archangel as he'd been in his old vessel. It must have been taken later on as the poor man's face was already showing signs of power decay, but beyond that it was a surprisingly good image and he wondered who on Earth had captured it let alone how Anrig had gotten his hands on it. Turning it over he found the name Nick Grady written on the back.  
  
"Grady?" Dean whispered looking at the archangel. "Why isn't he a... well, you know?"  
  
"He inherited the ability to house my brother from his mother," Michael replied softly. "He would have been the last in that part of his bloodline as it was not the main branch of the family."  
  
For once it seemed like an angel understood his desire for discretion and Dean was thankful of it as he had no desire to advertise the Campbell family's greatest and darkest secret. Especially since the Vatican seemed not to have made the connection between Grady's mother and his own maternal family. He briefly wondered how distant a relative this Nick had been before he tried to push it aside. It wasn't really relevant anymore seeing as the poor bastard was already dead.  
  
"Who was he?" clown guy asked. "He came up during our research of unusual activity in the States but we couldn't figure out who he was though he seemed to interact with demons."  
  
"Oh he interacted with demons alright," Dean replied, holding up the photo. "Anriky, meet Lucy."


	86. Chapter 85

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Vatican gives and receives a few surprises.

**PAST**  
  
  
"Lucy?" clown guy repeated, confused, and Dean could practically see him trying to figure that one out before Anrig blanched. "You mean Lucifer?"  
  
"Yep, the one and only," Dean confirmed.  
  
The reactions all around them were pretty amusing with shocked gasps and horrified whispers even as several people stepped back, as if merely being close to the photo could be dangerous. Dean would have found that even funnier if it weren't such a serious issue. For all of his giving the devil himself a nickname, he knew only all too well that there was nothing trifling about the situation. Hell, part of the reason why he always gave such powerful creatures nicknames was to help himself and others overcome what could otherwise be an all-consuming fear of the being in question. It tended to make people focus on something else and that could get them thinking again instead of being frozen in fear, or awe as the case might be. Well that and he wasn't going to let their power stop him from doing something he was liable to do anyway.  
  
To his credit, clown guy didn't take a step back though Dean could see increased wariness in his eyes and posture.  
  
"This is what Lucifer looks like?" Anrig asked.  
  
"No, this is what he used to look like," Dean corrected. "This vessel is dead now, he died when Lucy left him for another one."  
  
"And what does his new vessel look like?"  
  
"It doesn't matter as he's no longer in it. In fact he doesn't have a vessel at the moment at all."  
  
There, Dean figured that he'd sidestepped that question rather well without even raising any suspicions at all. As long as no one came back to the issue and the Vatican didn't find any suspicious photos of his brother from when he'd been Lucifer's vessel, then Sam should be safe. Though, to be honest, he was rather more worried that Anrig and his men would dig up incriminating evidence about what Sam had done with Ruby than about the whole Lucifer thing as the latter had been so short. Still, better to keep an eye out for both so he could do damage control if need be. After all, given some of what  _he'd_  been thinking at the time, he didn't even want to consider what the Vatican would make of the whole drinking demon blood or sleeping with a demon thing. Although weren't these the guys that were so gung-ho about repentance and forgiveness? He was pretty sure they were, but better not to risk it.  
  
"No vessel?" clown guy asked.  
  
"Dean and his brother were able to temporarily trap Lucifer in his cage once more," Michael replied. "During that process my brother lost the vessel he was in and therefore does not possess one at the moment."  
  
"Why is it only temporary?" a new, accented voice inquired.  
  
Dean turned his head to look at the speaker and was startled to find that it was the pope himself. Somewhere during his conversation with clown guy, the old man had come closer to them and was now only standing a short distance away, still mostly surrounded by a group of cardinals and he couldn't help but wonder if it was the Cardinals that couldn't function without the pope or vice versa. Not that he was all that sure that a bunch of grown guys who still played dress up everyday could truly be considered functional in his definition of the word.  
  
"In the process of my brother breaking out and being shoved back into his cage, it was damaged and it will not be able to contain him for much longer," Michael explained. "It is only a matter of time before he is free once more."  
  
The inevitable questions about why the cage couldn't simply be repaired or a new one built came next and Dean tuned them out, knowing it was better if this information came from Michael as he was far too likely to say something disparaging about God that no one present would appreciate. No, it was far better for Michael to answer why God wouldn't just help the archangel build a new cage or why they couldn't outright kill the devil.  
  
Instead Dean turned his attention back to the file on the table and looked at the names of the people he didn't immediately recognize. He was distracted from his task when clown guy came to stand beside him and tapped a spot of rotting skin on the photo of Nick's face.  
  
"Why is this happening to him?" Anrig questioned. "Is it Lucifer's taint causing it?"  
  
"No, it's caused by power decay," Dean explained. "Basically Nick wasn't able to fully contain Lucy's power and thus it started to destroy him. It would happen to any vessel that housed an archangel other than the intended vessel."  
  
"I don't understand. I thought a vessel was someone who could hold an angel."  
  
"For most angels, yes, it's that simple, for archangels it's more complicated as they're so powerful. Anyone who isn't a vessel couldn't hold an angel, period. Regular angels though have several vessels that they can use without ill effect. Archangels, however, only have one vessel like this, all of their other vessels can only hold them for a limited amount of time before they suffer from power decay depending on how much Grace and power the archangel uses while in them."  
  
Clown guy seemed to hesitate a moment before looking him in the eye. "You are the one who can hold Michael with no ill effect?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"So your aunt...?"  
  
"She was already brain dead due to an accident before Michael took her."  
  
"My condolences."  
  
Dean nodded but could tell that there was something else clown guy wanted to ask but seemed reluctant to do so. "What?"  
  
"You, eh... you have faced Lucifer in battle?"  
  
Well that explained why Anrig had been hesitant to ask. Dean had been there himself in the past, desperately wanting to hear another hunter's story but not wanting to come across as being too eager. He snorted at the thought of having his involvement in the whole fiasco being called a battle. His pride briefly flared up but he had the sneaking suspicion that clown guy would be able to see right through his bullshit if he tried to give him any.  
  
"He trashed my ass," Dean replied then hesitated before deciding to give it all. "And he killed Cas as well. Would have killed me too if it wasn't for my brother."  
  
Clown guy's eyes went wide. "He killed Castiel? But he is still alive."  
  
"Yeah, 'cause God brought Cas back. And promoted him."  
  
"Promoted?"  
  
The poor guy's voice was a bit faint and Dean figured he might be on information overload right about now, not that he could blame Anrig. It  _was_  a lot to take in all at once, but now that he'd thought about it, he really wanted the Vatican to know about his lover's new status. Castiel definitely deserved the recognition for all that he'd done so far in this war already, not to mention all of the sacrifices he'd made.  
  
"Yeah, Cas is an archangel now."  
  
"An archangel?"  
  
"Yep." It seemed like that particular pronouncement came close to being too much for clown guy, but it suddenly reminded Dean of something else. "Oh, and speaking of archangels, if a small blond haired one shows up with a Scandinavian accent, don't trust her. That's Simiel and she's sided with Lucifer."  
  
"I don't suppose you have a photo of her?"  
  
"No, I've only seen her once myself and that was right after she attacked Michael and me, so we were kinda busy at the time."  
  
"I will notify everyone."  
  
"Good," Dean replied and then smiled. "Oh, and just for your information, angels can and do dream walk."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"What you said before, about getting reports of people saying they'd seen angels in their dreams. Trust me, it happens as angels have absolutely no concept of privacy. It's taken me forever to get Castiel to realize that there are boundaries and even that's been hard won."  
  
"Michael does stand quite close to you," clown guy observed.  
  
"Oh, you have no idea. Castiel was far worse than him."  
  
Dean left Anrig to contemplate that as he turned his attention back to Michael, the pope and the others. The archangel seemed to be explaining the Rite of Contressa and he could see people glancing his way once more and he fought off the desire to fidget. This was totally not the kind of attention he liked to be the center of and he almost wished that they could just skip over this whole part, but he knew that they had to give them something if they expected to keep getting things in return. Still, it didn't mean that he had to like it.  
  
"You said that you had more stuff for us?" Dean prompted when it seemed like all of the immediate questions had been answered.  
  
"Yes, yes," Father Giordano replied. "We have found some more books that mention Lucifer or the Apocalypse."  
  
Dean felt his heart sink as he followed the man's gesture to see another large pile of books on one of the nearby tables. Would it never end? Seriously, he was sure that he'd seen, handled and read more books in the past few months then he had in his entire life before and that was saying a lot given that he'd helped Bobby reorganize his collection on more than one occasion. And to think that he'd once thought that the older hunter had far too many books. This had to be a punishment, God must have done this on purpose and was now laughing at him, he was sure of it. One thing was for sure, though, if they averted this Apocalypse and he survived, he was never touching another book in his life, research be damned.  
  
"We have also found a few more artefacts in His Holiness' personal collection," Father Giordano continued.  
  
"Personal collection?" Dean inquired, looking at the pope.  
  
"Yes, it is a set of items that has been passed from one leader to the next since it was first begun," the Pope explained. "Various of my predecessors have added to it over the centuries and it now contains many valuable and unique items."  
  
Oh, well that made sense but Dean wasn't so sure how he felt about potentially walking away with something that technically belonged to the pope himself and had been in such holy hands for countless centuries. Chances were he was just going to break or lose the damn thing or that it would get wrecked by Lucifer at some point and wouldn't that be a way to be remembered? As the one who destroyed sacred Vatican treasures. Well, at least he hadn't ruined the Jewel of Abel yet though he'd only ever used it against one angel and he winced at the memory of doing that. He probably should ask Michael about the experience, though, as it could tell him a lot about what to expect if he ever needed to use it against Lucifer.  
  
"Okay," Dean said in lieu of anything else.  
  
"There are also a few more things we have for you," the pope continued.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
The pope half turned and was given a small black portfolio by one of the Cardinals before the old man stepped closer to him. Dean felt nervous, not quite sure what to expect here but he took the portfolio when it was handed to him.  
  
"This should help you focus your efforts solely on the Apocalypse and expedite the process as much as possible."  
  
Curious now, Dean opened the portfolio and stared in shock at what it contained. The first thing he noticed was the credit card. It looked a bit different from those he usually saw, but it was definitely a credit card and it was one in his own name, not some random person whom he'd never met before but who would certainly regret their long-distance relationship. Tucked away behind it was a second card, this time with both his photo and his name. It took him a moment to realize that it was an identity card of a sort but one that marked him as an employee of the Roman Catholic Church. It wasn't entirely clear what his position was, but it had been made to look important and he guessed that it would impress the right people. Then there were also several sheets of paperwork and, on the opposite side of the portfolio, an American passport. A quick look inside showed him that it too had been modified with his image and details as well as the appropriate stamps and whatnot to mark him as an official of the Vatican.  
  
"Can we ask that you try and keep these two from being used in too potentially scandalous situations?" the pope asked tapping the ID card and passport.  
  
"Uh, yeah, sure," Dean replied, figuring he meant anything too satanic.  
  
The whole thing seemed surreal to him. Had the Vatican really just handed him all of the official documents he needed to slip by the authorities in any number of cases? And under his own name no less? Dean kind of wanted to pinch himself to make sure that he was awake but with the pope standing only a few feet away, an archangel at his shoulder and the portfolio in his hands, he couldn't quite figure out how to do so discreetly. Instead he pulled out the credit card.  
  
"Is this for real?" Dean questioned, sure it had to be a joke of some kind.  
  
"Yes. It is connected to an account in Zurich that has been authorized to allow you to draw as much as you require from it."  
  
"Seriously?"  
  
"We know it is occasionally necessary for hunters to obtain rare and valuable artefacts in order to hunt and kill particular creatures," clown guy stated, appearing at Dean's side as well. "We would expect this to be even more likely given what you currently face."  
  
"It will also free you from, uh, other means of raising money," the pope added.  
  
 _Other means_. The old man meant the hustling and the outright theft of credit card fraud. The delicate wording made Dean snort and shake his head. He knew perfectly well that they were aware how he made his money as those crimes had been listed among his many others on the reports that clown guy had gotten hold of him so he didn't know why the pope didn't come right out and say it. He'd always found it a bit cowardly to dance around an issue like that as if by not saying it things weren't quite as bad as they really were.  
  
"Thank you, your generosity is appreciated," Michael stated.  
  
The archangel's acceptance of the offer on his part made Dean's hackles rise even as his pride rose within him. He didn't need any damn charity, never had and never would. Just because he did things a little differently from most people didn't mean that he needed other people's pity or aid, he could take care of things just fine on his own even as he dealt with all kinds of other stuff at the same time.  
  
"Castiel will be most appreciative as well, will he not, Dean?" Michael continued.  
  
Oh, now that was just not fair! The archangel knew how his lover felt about the way he made his money and Dean narrowed his eyes at the blatant manipulation.   
  
"Yes, he will," Dean was forced to admit.  
  
Damn Michael for knowing him so well.


	87. Chapter 86

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and his archangels.

**PAST**  
  
  
Dean groaned and dropped onto his bed the moment Michael returned them to his motel room. Thank God that the time difference with Europe put the Vatican ahead of the US as he didn't think that he'd have been able to survive much more of that. Give him a bloodthirsty creature any day over the politics and social niceties of dealing with the Roman Catholic Church. Especially once people had relaxed enough to all start asking questions at once. Luckily Fathers Mancini and Giordano had sensed enough of his mood to run interference for him, but still!  
  
"You will only want books in English or Italian, right?" Michael asked.  
  
With an effort, Dean raised his head enough to see the archangel sorting through the stacks of books that they'd gotten this time and he groaned again, letting his head drop back onto the bed. "Can't you just take them all with you?" Although he couldn't see it, Dean knew exactly what kind of look he was getting now from the quality of the silence. "Okay, okay! Jesh, don't get your panties in a twist."  
  
"I do not know what that means."  
  
"It's an expression," Dean said as he waved an arm before dropping it bonelessly. "I swear it wasn't this difficult the first time around. You sure you don't have any other brothers lurking around somewhere with little gems of anti-Lucifer wisdom?"  
  
"Not unless they have neglected to inform me of this fact."  
  
"I'll take that as a no then."  
  
"That would be wise."  
  
Dean couldn't help but laugh. "Dude, no one talks like that anymore."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Just 'cause."  
  
"That is not a reason."  
  
As he said it, Michael must have approached the bed as Dean could suddenly see the archangel looking down at him. Instead of replying, he gave in to the urge he'd had more than once with Michael and stuck out his tongue. That garnered him a Castiel-like head tilt and he congratulated himself on having confounded one of his angels yet again. It was no longer as easy as it used to be and he was suddenly no longer sure how he felt about that. Once he'd have been proud but after what Michael had pulled on him earlier today he wasn't so sure about that anymore. Manipulative bastard.  
  
"Every time I believe that I am beginning to understand you and other humans, you do something to make me reconsider that assessment," Michael stated.  
  
"Oh I think you understand us well enough, or me in any case. That stunt you pulled earlier at the Vatican with the credit card and Cas? So not cool."  
  
"You were going to let your pride interfere with the best and most logical way of handling the situation."  
  
"It was more than just pride, it was also the thought of the implications of accepting their offer. Now they'll always know where I am and, to some extent, what I'm doing. It'll let them keep tabs on us."  
  
"They will be able to see where and when you use it?"  
  
"Yeah, as well as how much I'm charging every time."  
  
"Still, it remains a safer and more honest way to access money and they were right in saying that it would allow you to focus more on what is important."  
  
"But I  _like_  hustling," Dean muttered.  
  
He was half tempted to go and use the new card at a brothel or hardcore sex club just to see what kind of reaction he'd get. Dean briefly wondered if they'd assume that it was for a case or if they'd even ask him about it at all. The latter, the idea that they might  _not_  ask, almost made him angry. Not only would he love to see one of those stuffy douches squirm (and he just knew that talking about sex, much less something of that nature, would be guaranteed to do so), but the very thought that they might not question him about it because of who he was to them annoyed him greatly. Letting anyone get away with something so against their code just because of who and what they were was just plain stupid and begging for trouble. The thought that that kind of attitude might be part of the reason the Roman Catholic Church was currently in so much trouble globally angered him even more and he tried to shut off that line of thought before he became totally enraged.  
  
"Besides I believe that pride is a sin that we have all more than indulged in enough recently. Do you not agree, Little One?"  
  
Dean huffed at the reminder of their previous faults. "I'll have you know that Pride's been dealt with. Ruby ganked him over three years ago along with Gluttony and Greed."  
  
Michael blinked. "You have personally encountered the seven deadly sins?"  
  
"Yeah and now there are only four of them; Lust, Envy, Wrath and Sloth."  
  
Somewhere along the line the stare Michael gave him now had because normal and Dean returned it evenly, no longer so much as tensing under it. He wasn't sure how long they kept it up but it ended when his necklace suddenly slid down the side of his chest and the archangel's eyes followed it. He closed his own eyes and tried to recapture the feeling of exhilaration and satisfaction he'd had that morning after hunting down and killing the chupacabra. As per the rest of the supernatural world as of late, it had deviated from its normal behavior and started preying on humans instead of just farm animals despite the length trek it had to make from its lair in order to do so. Unfortunately it seemed like that mood was well and truly gone.  
  
"Shall I chose some books to leave behind?" Michael inquired.  
  
"Yeah, sure, knock yourself out," Dean replied, then sat up as he remembered something. "Oh, I've been meaning to ask you, can you do the sigil exception thingy again?" he asked, gesturing at his chest. "I think you should go ahead and add Raphael to the list."  
  
"That I will gladly do."  
  
The words and look Michael gave him made Dean want to fidget as he felt that same warmth in his chest that he used to get when he knew he'd pleased Dad and especially when it had been good enough for his father to actually say something about it instead of just nodding at him or patting him on the back as it were. He braced himself when the archangel stepped closer and placed a hand on his chest, but the pain was quick and brief, dying away almost instantly. Not even thirty seconds later there was the flutter of wings and Raphael stood in the room with them, looking at him in surprise.  
  
"The sigils are still there," Raphael stated after a quick glance down at his chest.  
  
"Yeah," Dean replied, going for nonchalant. He hadn't expected the archangel to appear out of the blue like this. "Did Michael call you?"  
  
"No."  
  
"I need to go relieve Castiel at the cage," Michael stated, stepping back. "I shall see you later, Little One."  
  
"Thanks," Dean replied absently, seeing the archangel grab most of the books out of the corner of his eye before Michael left. "Okay, so if Mike didn't call you, then why are you here? Did you need something?"  
  
"You had Michael remove me from the cover of the protection sigils."  
  
"Yeah, well, I thought it was a good idea."  
  
Raphael stepped closer to him and Dean had to resist the urge to rise to his feet and place himself in a more dominant position then he currently was. It wasn't that he was afraid as he now knew that the archangel before him was completely on their side, but rather that Raphael still set him on edge and he really didn't want to give the archangel the pleasure of seeing that. Though Raphael had not adjusted to either him or Earth as much as his brothers had, he was pretty sure that the archangel would be able to recognize the reaction for what it was if he were to rise now.  
  
"You are a peculiar creature, Dean Winchester."  
  
"Right back at ya, Raph."  
  
The nickname had slipped out totally unplanned and Dean mentally cursed himself as the archangel froze in place, dark eyes locked onto him. Shit but he really did hate the way his mouth ran away from him sometimes. He hadn't even  _thought_  about nicknaming Raphael, it had just happened and now he wasn't at all sure about how the archangel would react to it. Raphael had more than made his opinion regarding his calling Michael either 'Mikey' or 'Mike' clear so he doubted that the archangel would particularly appreciate this and of course he had to go and do it when neither Castiel nor Michael were around. He really was his own worst enemy sometimes.  
  
Once again, Dean forced himself not to react when Raphael stepped even closer and he silently told himself over and over that, pissed or not, the archangel would not hurt him as they were on the same side but somehow that didn't really comfort him all that much.  
  
"First the sigils and now a nickname. Careful, Winchester, or I just might start to think that you like me," Raphael stated.  
  
Dean blinked at the archangel in surprise, mouth agape. Raphael had a sense of humor? Had Hell frozen over and nobody told him? If they weren't already so busy dealing with the Apocalypse, he would have been sure that this was a concrete sign of it looming on the horizon or just about on top of them.  
  
"Fuck you!" Dean snapped back, rising to his feet this time but both actions seemed to merely amuse the archangel even more. "And what the hell are you doing here anyway? No one invited you."  
  
"You did."  
  
"No, I didn't."  
  
"Did you really believe that I would not notice the unveiling of a soul such as yours?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"When Michael altered the sigils to allow me to see and find you, did you truly believe that I would not notice?"  
  
That threw Dean for a moment. "Why the hell would you?"  
  
The long considering look that he was receiving made Dean even more uncomfortable simply because he wasn't used to receiving it, not from this archangel anyway. From Castiel or Michael, sure, but definitely not from Raphael. Perhaps it was because he could all too easily recall having been the center of the focus for an entirely different purpose that it still made his hackles rise in a way neither of the other two archangels did.  
  
"For all that my brothers sometimes seem unable to see your multitude of flaws, they are right about one thing," Raphael finally stated and Dean felt his mouth go dry, not quite able to believe what he was hearing. "Your soul is exceptional and very unique. Like them, I have never seen another like it and most especially not in one so irreverent and vulgar such as yourself."  
  
The only reason that Dean wasn't totally freaking and pulling out the Jewel of Abel right now was the fact that Michael had calmly stood in the same room as this thing in front of him now and hadn't acted as if anything was wrong. Surely Michael of all people would have realized if there was something wrong with his brother, right? Or if it was in fact merely something that looked like Raphael but wasn't really him. Right? Of course the archangel would have and yet he was sure that something had to be wrong. This was  _Raphael_  after all, the bastard that had been nothing but antagonistic and insulting towards him for the majority of their acquaintance. This was the one archangel he'd been counting on to get the unbiased truth from instead of the rose-tinted version of it that his lover and Michael saw.  
  
Thankfully, Dean was saved from needing to reply by the sudden arrival of Castiel. If there'd been any doubt left in his mind about whether or not he trusted Raphael to be on their side and not to harm him, he'd have been forced to abandon it at how readily he turned away from the archangel to face his lover despite how close Raphael had come to stand before him.  
  
"Cas!" Dean exclaimed, heading straight for his lover. "Everything go okay?"  
  
"Yes, neither Simiel nor anyone else attempted anything," Castiel replied.  
  
Not caring about the fact that Raphael was still in the room, Dean kissed his lover. Given that angels didn't need to sleep, rest or eat, they each had shifts of several days at the cage and it had been a while since he'd seen Castiel. At the back of his mind he knew that it really hadn't been all that long, but the rest of him didn't care for being separated from his angel like that at all even if it did make him sound like a chick.  
  
"Is something wrong?" Castiel asked when they separated and Dean realized his lover must have sensed the tension in the room.  
  
"No, your mate was merely being obtuse," Raphael replied.  
  
"Hey!" Dean protested before turning to his angel. "Your brother was being annoying, make him go away."  
  
Unexpectedly the words drew a noise that sounded suspiciously like an aborted laugh or snort from Raphael and Dean turned a wary eye back to him, not at all sure what to make of it or even what to expect. This was not the archangel he was used to sparing with and it was more than a little unnerving if he was being honest with himself (something he found that he was doing more and more to his chagrin).  
  
"I shall leave him to you, Castiel, and go investigate the new tomes your mate and Michael obtained," Raphael stated before he vanished in a flutter of wings.  
  
"New tomes?" Castiel repeated.  
  
"From the Vatican," Dean responded absently, his attention drawn by the paper bag his lover held.  
  
He hadn't noticed it right away, but the smells wafting from it now were making his stomach growl and Dean was suddenly aware of how long it had been since he'd last eaten properly. The fancy ass things the Vatican had served up most definitely did  _not_  count as food as far as he was concerned. Weren't those guys supposed to be all about abstinence and denial of worldly stuff? Somehow he doubted that what they'd had would be at all available to the poor or needy.  
  
"Careful, it's still very hot," Castiel cautioned as he handed over the bag.  
  
"Chinese?" Dean guessed, breathing in the wonderful aroma as he opened the bag while seating himself at the room's table.  
  
"From a small vendor in Shanghai. People seem to believe that they make the best dumplings in the city."  
  
It was a claim that Dean could easily believe as he opened one of the styrofoam boxes within to find several huge dumplings within. The only thing that confused him was the straw he'd found in the bag as there was no drink in it.  
  
"Uh, Cas?"  
  
"It is so you can drink the broth before eating the dumpling."  
  
"Broth?"  
  
Castiel gave him an odd look. "Within the dumpling."  
  
Broth in the dumpling? Dean had never heard of something like that but from the way his lover had said it, it seemed like Castiel was pretty sure he knew what he was talking about. Experimentally, he pushed the straw into the first dumpling and sipped it only to find that there did indeed seem to be a surprising amount of broth between the meat and the dough. A surprising amount of really good broth. As good as it was, though, it was nothing compared to the dumpling itself and he devoured them in no time at all.  
  
"Now I just want to sleep," Dean said, leaning back in his chair and watching his lover look through one of the books Michael had left behind.  
  
A book that was neither in English or Italian, Dean suddenly realized.  
  
The words caused Castiel to glance over towards the bed with a longing expression but then Dean saw his angel shake himself and look back at the new books. His own heart sank a bit though he knew that they really should focus on research for a while because once they got up to anything, he knew that they wouldn't be doing anything remotely productive again today. But still, he'd really missed his lover and-  
  
"Oh, I got you something!" Dean exclaimed, getting to his feet.  
  
"You got me something?" Castiel repeated as if unsure what the words meant.  
  
"Yep," Dean confirmed gleefully, grabbing it from his duffel and keeping it securely hidden behind his back as he returned to his angel and sat in his lap. "Right around Valentine's Day."  
  
Castiel's face fell a little. "I'm sorry I wasn-"  
  
"Oh relax, you know perfectly well what I think of that particular holiday, but it does have its perks."  
  
After the fiasco of last year with Famine and the demon blood, Dean had been perfectly happy to just ignore the whole thing this year and that was pretty much what he'd done. The only reason it hadn't passed him by entirely was because of what he'd seen in the checkout aisle of the store he'd gone in to get rock salt and gallons of water to sanctify. Like the little angel ornament with Christmas, he'd just been unable to resist buying it, not once he'd thought of the look on his lover's face.  
  
"But look," Dean continued. "I got you a mini-me," he pulled his arm out to show his angel the small, black stuffed bear with bright blue eyes, silvery wings and a little golden halo. "It's a Cas!bear!"  
  
Castiel's face was priceless as his lover looked at the toy and tried to make sense of it and it was all that Dean could do not to laugh outright though he knew that he had a ridiculous grin on his face. He wasn't sure how much exposure his angel had to stuffed animals before this but it was clear that Castiel couldn't quite work out what he was being presented with here.  
  
"A Cas!bear," Castiel finally repeated, voice completely neutral.  
  
"Yep, and look, he's got Hershey's kisses!"  
  
It was would be the thing to seal the deal, Dean knew. For whatever reason, his angel loved the candies despite having told him unequivocally that Hershey's was not chocolate and- after having chocolate brought to him specially from Switzerland- he really had to concede the point no matter how much he wanted to stand by a childhood favorite. The angel bear, though, was holding a small cardboard tube filled with mini-kisses and that alone would be enough to make Castiel accept it even if his lover might be somewhat offended at the idea of a warrior of God being turned into a child's toy.  
  



	88. Chapter 87

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam is forced to reveal some more of the truth to his family.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
The first thing that Sam became aware of when he woke was the painful throbbing of his entire body. He groaned but it had unfortunately become the norm for him lately ever since they'd performed the first simple cleansing spell. The next thing he became aware of was the growling of his stomach and briefly he closed his eyes again in resignation before he remembered that today was the day that Bobby and Samuel had decided that he could eat normally instead of just the gruel they'd found that wouldn't really interfere with the spells and could sorta fill him but which tasted like complete and utter shit.  
  
With the promise of real food awaiting him, Sam was out of bed and in the shower in no time. As always, he was grateful for the amazing water pressure and seemingly endless supply of hot water that Mark somehow managed to get them here despite the compound being in the middle of nowhere. He wasn't sure how his cousin did it and Mark refused to talk about it, but he was endlessly thankful for it as he'd washed the grit and grime of countless hunts down the drain with it. When he was done and dressed, he headed straight for the kitchen and wasn't surprised to find Bobby already there, no doubt on his third or forth cup of coffee of the day.  
  
"Morning," Sam chirped, making a beeline for the fridge.  
  
"You're in a good mood this morning," Bobby observed.  
  
"That's because I can actually eat today!"  
  
Even as he said it, Sam pulled out eggs, bacon and butter. He put those on the counter before digging out the large frying pan and a loaf of bread. He put several rashers of bacon in the pan to get it greasy before he turned back to the older hunter.  
  
"Do you want anything or have you already eaten?"  
  
"I'm good," Bobby replied. "How are you feeling?"  
  
"About the same as usual, achy like I've completely overworked every muscle in my body."  
  
"Still? It hasn't lessened in intensity any?"  
  
"No."  
  
Sam hated to admit it, but he knew that if he lied and said that things were getting better that they'd just move up to the next level of spell and then the truth would come out pretty damn quickly. Not only that, but he really didn't want to risk passing out again like he had so often in the beginning. It still embarrassed him to think of that but nothing he'd tried had allowed him to remain conscious as the pain had been unbearable. It had literally felt like the spells were trying to rip part of him out and he'd wondered more than once if that wasn't true. Bobby and Samuel were pretty sure that it was the demon blood he'd drunk that was causing the problem and not his little stint in Hell. And, since he'd first consumed demon blood when he was only six months old, he couldn't help but wonder if, after so long, the original blood hadn't perhaps quite literally become a part of him? If that was what had happened then they were just banging their heads against a brick wall here. He didn't like the idea, but it wasn't like there was anything anyone could do about it now. If only his father had thought to do a simple cleansing spell on him years ago! It really was kind of unforgivable that Dad hadn't given their line of work and especially if the man had possessed even an inkling of what had happened in his nursery that fateful night.  
  
The smell of frying bacon brought Sam's attention back to his cooking and he pushed the rashers around the pan to get it good and greasy before he cracked two eggs open. Though he normally enjoyed eating more healthy food, this was what he craved now, probably from having smelled it the past few mornings and not having been able to partake of it along with the others. While he waited for everything to finish cooking, he popped two slices of bread into the toaster and poured himself a cup of coffee. It was amazing what the prospect of a good meal did for his mood despite the fact that everything still hurt.  
  
"That's not good," Bobby stated and it took Sam a moment to remember what they'd been talking about.  
  
"Not much we can do about it," Sam replied.  
  
"We could try asking Dean or Castiel if this is normal."  
  
"They're the reason we're doing this in the first place."  
  
"Yes, exactly, so maybe Castiel knows more about it."  
  
"No, what I meant is that they must have known it would be necessary as they asked you to do it two weeks ago and haven't been back since."  
  
"Perhaps, though they could just be waiting for the all clear from us."  
  
"This is Dean we're talking about, Bobby. When have you ever known him to wait around patiently for things to happen even when he does know how long something is supposed to take?"  
  
"True."  
  
Sam wanted to snort and say that of course it was. What he'd said had been about Dean and no one knew his brother better than he did, no matter what Bobby might say to the contrary. Hell, the older hunter didn't even know about certain aspects of Dean's personality simply because he'd never seen them before. There were facets to his brother that even he hadn't seen in years as they were too well hidden behind Dean's stupid defenses and lack of self-worth. He'd have thought that his big brother would have outgrown those childish tendencies years ago and become his own man by now instead of a hybrid of the soldier Dad had created and an overgrown child, but clearly he'd been wrong. It was one of Dean's bigger faults as it let people dictate his worth too much and made him rely on others for his happiness instead of taking matters into his own hands.  
  
It was just as Sam was scooping his bacon and eggs onto his plate that he heard others enter the kitchen. A quick glance up showed it to be Samuel, Christian and Gwen. Uh oh, this didn't look good. Not only had Christian been avoiding him as of late, not telling him what he'd done wrong or how he could fix it, but they all looked grim as if about to do something they didn't want to.  
  
"Hey, guys," Sam greeted. "What's up?"  
  
"We need to talk," Samuel stated.  
  
"Okay, sure. Anyone need anything to eat?"  
  
"No, thanks, we're good," Gwen replied.  
  
Since he had a bad feeling about this, Sam procrastinated as much as he could, rinsing the pan and cleaning the counter, but eventually he had to take his plate and mug and join the others at the table. Suddenly he wasn't feeling so well anymore and his breakfast looked a lot less appealing despite how desperately hungry he still was.  
  
"Sam," Samuel began hesitantly.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I think it's become abundantly clear this past week that there's something you're not telling us."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Oh for crying out loud!" Christian exclaimed angrily. "Drop the fucking act. We know you're hiding something from us. There's no way that you're having all of this trouble with the cleansing spells just from one exposure to demon blood, which means that there's something else."  
  
Sam's eyes flickered to Bobby for help but, as he'd expected, he found none there. They'd argued about what he should tell the Campbells more than once with Bobby thinking he should tell them everything while he thought that it really wasn't any of their business and thus there was no need to tell them anything. Now it seemed that his choice might be taken from him and he hated that. The thing was that he knew that they wouldn't understand the truth; that they wouldn't be able to understand  _why_  he'd had no choice but to do what he had even if things had turned out so badly. There was no way he could have known what Ruby was really up to as she had seemed so sincere.  
  
"How would you know if it could or couldn't be from the demon blood, it's not like we've got any precedents here," Sam argued.  
  
"Actually we do," Gwen stated.  
  
"What?" Bobby demanded.  
  
"It's something we found in one of the old Campbell journals," Samuel explained. "That of Edward who made the crossing over from Europe on the Mayflower. He speaks of an instance where demons in France had been making people drink the blood of other demons in an effort to corrupt them. When the hunters discovered this and put an end to it, they managed to save a few people and the journal talks about how it took only a few cleansing spells to clear them of any residual taint, even those who'd been given massive doses of the blood."  
  
Sam could feel the blood draining from his face as he processed that. He wished like hell that they'd had access to that journal before as it could have helped him see what was happening before it had been too late.  
  
"Sam?" Gwen prompted gently.  
  
He sighed as he realized that he had no choice but to tell them. "It wasn't just the one time," Sam admitted.  
  
"What?" Samuel asked.  
  
"The demon blood, I didn't just have it the once."  
  
"What?" Christian exploded. "You actually drank that stuff several times? What the fuck is wrong with you?"  
  
The words and anger startled Sam even as part of him was relieved to learn what it was that had been bothering his cousin. It quickly turned to anxiety and fear though as he thought of how Christian would take the rest of the truth. Could this really wreck the friendship and trust they'd established? He didn't really see why it should as it had all been over and done with long before he'd met any of the Campbells and thus didn't really affect or concern them.  
  
"I didn't exactly have a choice the first time!" Sam retorted, angry at Christian's unreasonable behavior. It was so Dean-like in a way, the manner in which his cousin thought he could judge a situation he knew nothing about like that on so little evidence.  
  
"What do you mean you didn't have a choice?" Gwen demanded, suddenly urgent. "Did they force it down your throat?"  
  
"They didn't have to as I didn't know any better," Sam began, glancing at his grandfather. This would be hard on the old man and he'd hoped to spare Samuel, but they'd just taken the decision out of his hands. "It happened when I was just a baby, the night Mom died. It was why Azazel was there that night; to bleed into my mouth."  
  
There was a stunned silence that was eventually broken by Bobby who went on to explain exactly what Azazel had been doing and why. Surprisingly, that went smoother than expected and Sam was startled to learn that Samuel already knew part of the story from back when his path had crossed with that of Dean and his time-travelling brother had guided Samuel into chasing Azazel when he was in town back then. The guilt he could see starting to form on his grandfather's face pained him but he didn't quite know what to say because it was true that if Samuel had managed to stop Azazel back then that his life never would have been fucked up to begin with. Instead of ending up the prize child of a demon, he'd have been able to live a normal life with at least one good parent and most likely no overbearing brother as Dean wouldn't have been all but brainwashed into becoming nothing but an obedient little soldier and attack dog.  
  
"Jesus," Gwen breathed when Bobby had finished explaining about the blood and Azazel's kids. "But that's... I mean you were a baby!"  
  
"Yeah," Sam replied, deliberately not looking at Bobby as he knew exactly what he'd see in the other man's eyes if he did.  
  
Perhaps he wouldn't have to tell his family about Ruby after all.  
  
"That was nearly three decades ago," Samuel stated.  
  
"Hey, I'm not that old!" Sam protested.  
  
"Close enough. No wonder the spells are having such a hard time cleansing the stain of the blood from your system."  
  
If it weren't for the fact that the words proved that the revelation of this new knowledge was enough to effectively distract the others from the rest of the truth, Sam would have protested again. Stain was such a harsh word. Yes, sure, it was pretty obvious by now that the demon blood he'd ingested had tainted him on some level, but stain had so much stronger a connotation to it.  
  
"So now what?" Samuel asked. "Do we just keep going with the cleansing spells and hope that they start having more of an effect with repetitive applications?"  
  
"I don't see what else we can do," Bobby replied and Sam could hear an edge to his voice that he knew the others would miss. "Sam and I had just been discussing calling Dean and Castiel. It's possible that they might know more seeing as they were the ones who said we'd need to cleanse Sam in the first place."  
  
"Have you considered the fact that maybe they knew that this would happen and just gave you this task to keep us busy?" Christian demanded. "We've already wasted over two weeks on this when we could have been doing other, more valuable stuff to end the Apocalypse."  
  
Sam couldn't help but flinch at the harsh words and it took him a few moments to find the obvious flaw in that logic, but by then his grandfather had, predictably as always when it came to Dean, reacted.  
  
"Must you continue to think the worst of him, Christian?" Samuel demanded.  
  
"Must you continue to think the best of him?" Christian shot right back.  
  
"Regardless of Dean's actual motivations that just doesn't make any sense, Christian," Sam said. "Just think, if Dean or the angels didn't want us involved with the Apocalypse, then they'd simply never have told us about it to begin with."  
  
"Sam's right," Gwen stated. "Dean was the one who contacted us and arranged the meeting, not the other way around."  
  
"Still doesn't mean that they didn't assign this task knowing that we wouldn't be able to succeed in it," Christian argued.  
  
"Oh enough already with the melodramatic act, ya idjit," Bobby snapped and Sam nearly choked on his coffee. "Everyone here already knows that you don't like Dean, you've only told us this a hundred times. Now, if you don't have anything productive or useful to say, shut up and let the rest of us discuss the situation."  
  
The outburst had silenced the room and Sam realized that this was the first time his family had witnessed the wrath that was Bobby Singer when his patience finally wore thin. It would have amused him if the situation wasn't so dire. Despite what he'd said to the others, the fact that he still wasn't able to go through a medium level cleansing spell without near-debilitating pain bothered him greatly. It wasn't his fault that Azazel had fed him demon blood as a baby so it really wasn't fair that he had to deal with this now. As for Ruby, well his intentions had always been pure, didn't that count for something?  
  
"I believe that calling Dean is an excellent idea," Samuel finally said. "Not only might he or this Castiel know something useful about the situation, but it will give us another opportunity to learn more about the Apocalypse and the angels that Dean is working with."


	89. Chapter 88

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean spends some time on his baby.

**PAST**  
  
  
Sweat rolled down the side of Dean's face and he huffed in annoyance, even in the shade underneath the Impala it was surprisingly hot. He'd hoped for better weather this far South- hell it was the reason he'd come to Florida in March in the first place- but this was getting ridiculous! If he'd known the South was going to get a heat wave like this, he'd have stuck much further North. Going from mid to high forties to low to mid-eighties in the space of forty-eight hours was  _not_  his idea of a good time. Not with his crappy skin, all pale and freckled. Unlike his father and brother who'd always gone brown in the sun, he went red no matter how much suntan lotion he used or how careful he was. It was the one thing he'd gotten from his mother that he could do without.  
  
It was amazing how often his mother had been on his mind today. Dean knew that it was due to the fact that he was only wearing a wife beater over his jeans which made the silver protection bracelet on his right arm stand out starkly against his skin, but it still surprised him. And it wasn't just now either, he'd found that she'd come to mind more often at night as well when he'd taken off his layers of outdoor clothing for something more comfortable. He liked it even if all of the memories were bittersweet due to the grief and horror that was always close to the surface whenever she was on his mind.  
  
Though those memories could be depressing and sad at times, there were also plenty of good ones in there too and that was exactly what Dean needed just now. Not only was it a blessed relief from all of the mind-numbing research that he'd been doing as of late, reading countless books in several different languages (and yeah, a part of him  _still_  couldn't quite believe that!), but it was also a distraction from the decidedly disconcerting accounts he was currently working his way through. Just a few days ago Raphael had shown up in his motel room with a set of books in Enochian. Just the sight of them had been enough to make his stomach drop and that had been before he'd learned what they were about.  
  
Dean could still remember what Castiel had said to him back when they'd first gotten together again, that various angels would often write personal accounts of major events so that others could learn from them and hopefully avoid similar mistakes if there were such lessons to be learned from what had transpired. As Lucifer's rebellion had, obviously, been one of the most important events in angelic history there had been a ton of accounts written about it from all different angles and points of view. The longest and most important had, of course, been those of the archangels but that didn't mean that any of the others were worth overlooking in case they contained any hidden gems of information that had seemed insignificant at the time but were now of import to them.  
  
Needlessly to say, though, none of his archangels were particularly keen to go over those accounts despite how much time had passed since then. If there was one thing that Dean could understand, it was the desire to leave those types of memories buried and untouched so he'd readily agreed to be the one to go through the accounts that Michael, Raphael or Castiel had not ever read before. Not only did it make him feel like he could do something in return for them after all that they had done and still continued to do so easily for him, but he also thought that it was probably a good idea that he knew more about what really happened back then instead of the mythical tales that had somehow worked their way to Earth or been entirely fabricated.  
  
Despite that initial drive, Dean found it hard going, the painstaking detail and sheer emotion in the accounts made them difficult to read. If he'd ever thought that all angels had been completely emotionless he'd definitely learned otherwise by now. True, he was reading up on what was probably the harshest time in their history, but the shock, betrayal, pain and anguish were all real and struck far too close to home for his liking. Still, he'd never been one to give up on anything just because it hurt or was hard so he was determined to finish the task, it just might take him a bit longer then he'd originally thought it would.  
  
With a few final adjustments, Dean finished his current task and smiled, petting his baby's undercarriage. There that should make her run better. The guilt he'd felt earlier for neglecting her so much lately was starting to ease as he was slowly giving her a complete overhaul. Much as he wanted to simply lose himself in the Impala and her care for a day, he knew that he couldn't. Well, he could, but then he'd have to do nothing but research for days on end to make up for it and that was something that he knew that he wouldn't be able to do. Not only would he be looking for a gun with which to blow his brains out, but he'd start to lose focus and potentially miss important information which was something they simply couldn't afford right now. No, it was far better to parse the research with working on his baby so that he stayed sharp.  
  
His smile soon vanished as Dean remembered that this was the end of the break he'd allowed himself for today and that he'd now have to get back to his research. With a sigh, he gathered the oil, rags and tools he'd been using and pushed himself off of his baby so that he rolled out from underneath her and into the sun. Getting up, he grabbed his bottle of water and got to his feet. The Impala gleamed in the sun from the thorough wash and wax job he'd given her upon first arriving in the sunshine state. Normally he'd have waited to do that until after he was done with the rest of the work he had to do on her, but he hadn't been able to resist given how warm the weather had been that day. Now, of course, he wished he'd waited until today.  
  
Dean felt content as his eyes ran over his baby, but then they stopped on the nearly spotless windscreen and a large smile graced his lips. It wasn't so much the windscreen itself as what he could see through it that made him even happier than he'd already been. The reason for that was twofold. First, he didn't think he'd ever be able to look at the Christmas ornament he'd had the store clerk transform from a mere angel into a miniature Castiel without recalling that wonderful Christmas and since he'd hung it off his review mirror, he could see the back of it now. Second, was because he could see the little angelic bear he'd gotten his lover sitting in the passenger seat pressed snuggly up against the seatbelt. Truth be told, he'd been hurt and a bit angry when he'd first found it in the Impala the day after he'd given it to Castiel, but then he'd noticed how deliberately it had been placed as if to ensure that it wouldn't fall or slide across the seat when he drove.  
  
Once Dean had spotted that, he'd managed to calm down enough to think about things more clearly and when he'd done that, he'd become happy and almost honored in a way. He'd honestly never expected for his lover to keep the silly thing and it had only been Castiel's seeming outright rejection that had stung, but then he'd realized that was almost entirely the opposite of reality. His angel had decided that he wanted to keep it but since it was just a bit too big and bulky to carry around on him, Castiel had done the next best thing he could think of and put it in the Impala. Any doubts he might have had that his reasoning was correct had all vanished the next time his angel had appeared in the car with him. The way Castiel had picked up and held the bear, even after he'd taken a chocolate kiss from its tube, had proven that the stuffed animal hadn't been abandoned, it had merely been tucked away somewhere his lover considered it to be safe. That said place happened to be his baby pleased him greatly and he'd bought a large bag of kisses so he could fill up the tube the Cas!bear held when it was nearly empty. Doing that the first time was when he'd noticed that his angel had mojoed the tube as it was far too cold for the weather.  
  
His smile turned softer as Dean thought of the time that Castiel had appeared in his room already holding the bear. The easy familiarity that spoke of and how readily his lover used the Impala made him feel all warm and mushy inside (not that he'd ever admit to it!). Yeah, he knew his angel probably zapped into and out of her instead of using the key he'd given Castiel for Christmas, but it still pleased him how his lover thought to use her at all and, most importantly, that he felt comfortable doing so without asking for permission beforehand. The Impala had been an integral of his life for as far back as he could remember that she was practically a part of him and he knew that his angel understood that.  
  
"Wow, nice wheels!"  
  
The voice was carefree and female and Dean glanced up to see two young women approaching. He smiled while a hand proudly reached down to touch his baby's hood. See, he wasn't even halfway through all the work he needed to do on her and already she was being admired again.  
  
"Thanks," Dean replied, glancing back at them.  
  
The brunette frowned at him and Dean was at a loss for why but his attention quickly shifted to her friend as the blond stepped forward, still looking at his baby.  
  
"My dad's got an Impala," she said. "But his doesn't look nearly as good as yours despite the fact that he never drives it."  
  
Now it was Dean's turn to frown as he thought of never driving his baby. "I don't got that, why not drive her?"  
  
"Her," the woman laughed, wandering around to the driver's side and leaning down to look inside. "That's exactly what my dad calls his car. He says it's 'cause he doesn't want to risk damaging her."  
  
"I guess, though it's not good for them never to be driven. They weren't made to just sit around doing nothing."  
  
"Either way, it doesn't look like you've ever had to worry about that."  
  
"What? Damaging her? Unfortunately she's taken quite a lot of damage over the years," Dean replied and winced at the memory of taking a tire iron to her trunk. He petted the warm metal beneath his hand some more in a silent apology. "I just rebuilt her afterwards."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Miriam," the brunette said. "We need to go."  
  
Dean only caught part of the look she sent Miriam, but it was enough to know that he was missing something. Although they'd both been smiling and seemed friendly at first, the brunette now clearly wanted to go, he'd seen that look often enough on Sammy's face over the years when his little brother thought he was just wasting his time or Sam disapproved of what he was doing. He pretended not to notice as the brunette pointedly glanced at the front of the car- the Cas!bear if he wasn't mistaken- and then down at him- his right wrist he realized- where his mother's bracelet now hung.  
  
Miriam, though, was having none of it and came around the front of the Impala towards him. "I bet you're good with your hands," she purred.  
  
Oh shit, she'd been flirting with him, Dean realized with a start. And now that he'd figured that out, he couldn't believe that he hadn't caught onto it immediately: the compliment to his baby, the way she'd walked over to the Impala, swinging her hips more then necessary, how she'd leaned forwards so he could look down her top if he wanted to, her playful manner, to say nothing of how she was dressed. He wouldn't be surprised if they'd planned to head into town and stay there until well into the evening or morning.  
  
Something must have shown on his face as Miriam halted her advance and suddenly looked uncertain.  
  
"I'm flattered, sweetheart," Dean said, quickly recovering from his shock. How the hell had  _he_  missed all of that? "Really, but I'm seeing someone."  
  
For a moment it looked like Miriam might try again anyway, but then her friend stepped up beside her and hissed something into Miriam's ear. The woman's eyes widened comically before her eyes flicked down to his wrist. Dean frowned again, trying to figure out what was going on before it suddenly hit him. Between the stuffed animal in the car, the decidedly feminine bracelet he was wearing and his complete lack of reaction- no,  _realization_ \- of Miriam's advances, they thought he was gay! His gut instinct was to protest and to both deny and correct that assumption. He wasn't gay, he was bi, always had been too in point of fact. It was an important distinction as far as he was concerned and he'd always hated it when people had just assumed that he was gay whenever he'd been seen with a guy. It just wasn't true, he liked both guys and girls and if Castiel had to suddenly change vessel for whatever reason and the new one was female, then the only thing that would make him hesitate would be the consideration for the woman his lover was inhabiting. The rest, though weird and no doubt awkward at first, wouldn't cause him any hang-ups.  
  
This time, though, Dean suppressed the reaction and instead gave the two women a tight smile. There was no point trying to correct their assumption as he had no desire to pursue anything with either of them and was actually in a long-term relationship with what most humans would see as a man.  
  
"Don't take any heed of them," Dean murmured to his baby as the women hurried off without a backwards glance. "They're too shallow to appreciate your true beauty."  
  
Not at all like Castiel, Dean noted as his eyes fell on the small stuffed toy in the passenger seat again. His head tilted in an eerie imitation of his lover as he realized that he'd yet to introduce his angel to car sex. It was unforgivable, really, and high time that they christened the Impala together and if the wording caused a wicked grin to cross his face at what clown guy and the others at the Vatican might think of that, well then he figured he was entitled to his little pleasures.  
  


* * *

  
  
There were clouds everywhere, dark and gray, threatening; ominous. Thunder rumbled all around him and electricity crackled all along his being though there was no actual lightening just yet. It was only a matter of time though as he could taste the storm in the air and everything was balanced on a knife's edge, just a hair away from exploding with truly terrifying violence. He didn't want it to as he feared that this was one storm from which they might never recover. It could tear them all apart leaving only scattered and broken remnants in its wake when it blew over.  
  
 _If_  it blew over.  
  
Wind that at once was and wasn't wind lashed out at him, trying to knock him off course, but he flew on, determined. It tore at his wings but his will was stronger. His  _fear_  was stronger. Fear, determination and betrayal.  
  
The betrayal hit him with all of the force of a nuke and Dean gasped while the world around him flickered in and out of existence. No! No, he didn't want this, didn't want to experience it again. This was Sam, Ruby, Lilith and Lucifer. It was lies and silence and vengeance. It was deliberate deception, feelings of superiority, self-righteousness and condescension. It was demon blood and addiction and Sam knew best. It was betrayal at its worst. It was Hell and Cicero and the Campbells. It was lies, omission and thoughts of his little brother in Hell long after Sam had gotten out. It was Bobby and Sam and families torn apart. It was trying and trying and trying, always trying, and always failing. It was not being met halfway or even partway or at all.  
  
It was deception, disrespect and betrayal. It came out of nowhere, unexpected, unforeseen.  _Unthinkable_. It was disobedience, it was rebellion, it was impossible. It couldn't be. Not  _him_ , not his little brother, not the one that he'd looked after and loved his whole life. The one he cherished above all others and would have done almost anything for. Almost anything, but not this.  _Never_  this and how his brother could even think it, even  _contemplate_  it, let alone follow through on it, act on it, he couldn't fathom.  
  
It was shock, it was anger, it was disbelief.  
  
It was outrage and pure terror.  
  
"Got you to trust me in the end, didn't I?" Ruby gloated, suddenly appearing before him, flickering between the two humans she'd possessed- blond, black, blond, black- like some bad special effect.  
  
"He never was the brightest."  
  
Dean felt ice flood him at his father's familiar voice and it got both worse and better as he turned to find the older hunter staring at him with Azazel's distinctive yellow eyes.  
  
"He's an artist with a razor, though," Alistair's voice hissed in his ear as hands settled possessively on his hips from behind. "Boy can make even the most recalcitrant of souls scream. Isn't that right, Deano?"  
  
It was pain and fury and resignation. Knowledge and denial at once, each warring with the other to outdo themselves and cause him more hurt than the others though he did not know how that was even possible. It was something the likes of which he'd never experienced before, never had any need or cause to.  
  
"You're too weak. You're holding me back."  
  
It was Sammy this time, but as he'd been that day they'd managed to save Jimmy's family due to Castiel's timely intervention; mouth covered in blood and not the least bit repentant or ashamed, just resigned and annoyed at having been caught red-handed. Or was that red-mouthed in this case?  
  
"Dean."  
  
The single word that he'd probably heard hundreds of thousands of times before in his life now froze him to his very core and he screamed at himself not to turn towards it, not to look and be shattered into a million little pieces, but it was useless. He couldn't seem to control himself anymore, turning to face the speaker of that voice he loved so very much. There was some relief when he found Castiel to look as he always did with no horrific changes, but appearances could only do so much, it was more the words he feared, those could cut and tear and shred just as deeply and painfully as anything he'd done with a razor in Hell. They could-  
  
Two fingers pressed against his forehead.  
  
/  
  
Dean gasped, bolting upright in bed, clothes sticking to him, drenched in sweat and eyes darting about wildly. Strong arms wrapped around him from behind and he automatically turned into them, grabbing two handfuls of clothing as he buried his face into his lover's neck, trembling.  
  
"Shh, I've got you," Castiel whispered into his ear. "I've got you, it's okay."  
  
His heart was racing a mile a minute and it took Dean far longer than it should have to regain his bearings and not because of who he was with for once. Though being in his angel's presence apparently soothed and relaxed his mental instincts, this was not due to that, rather the opposite in fact and he hated to think of how long it might have taken if Castiel hadn't been there. There was just something about that nightmare which hit him far more strongly than any even he was used to. The worst thing was that he didn't know  _why_. At first glance it was much tamer than some of those he'd had before, but the emotional impact was unproportionally strong. Beyond that, some of it just didn't make any sense, well beyond the lack of sense most dreams had. Luckily, though, most of it was already beginning to fade and his emotions returning to a more even keel. The latter he had no doubt was being aided along by a liberal application of his angel's Grace, but he was thankful for it. Much as he hated being supernaturally influenced, he hated the emotional rollercoaster ride he'd just experienced even more and he was glad to be rid of most of it.  
  
"Dean?" Castiel finally inquired.  
  
"I don't know, I really don't know. It was completely different from any nightmare I've ever had before."  
  
"You have no idea what might have caused it?"  
  
Dean could hear the frustration in his lover's voice and it brought a small smile to his face. Castiel was determined to root out the cause of all of his nightmares so that his angel could do everything possible to prevent them from occurring in the first place. Trouble was, though his lover had gotten a lot better at knowing him, this remained one area where Castiel understood things poorly. The entire concept of a subconscious was hard enough for most angels to understand, what with them being so completely aware of every aspect of themselves, so when you threw in a loss of consciousness and dreams you were in a completely unknown territory for them.  
  
"Nope, sorry," Dean replied, suddenly realizing that both of them had been stripped down to their boxers.  
  
Castiel was running soothing hands up and down his back and Dean was perfectly content to just lie there, cocooned off from the rest of the world by the dark wings that encircled them both. He felt bad though for making his lover stay there with him so he reached down, intending to snake a hand into his angel's boxers but his wrist was intercepted before it got there and pulled up so Castiel could kiss his palm.  
  
"No. Remember that promise we each other, Dean? To let the other know if we didn't like something sexually?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"I see instances of one of us not feeling like having sex as the same type of thing."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"You don't want sex right now, so neither do I."  
  
He opened his mouth to protest, to say that he always wanted sex, but Dean closed it when he realized that it just wasn't true right now. Not after that nightmare. Still, he wanted to do something for his lover even though he knew that he didn't have to. For whatever reason Castiel seemed to enjoy just watching and touching him, which was fine while he slept, but since sleep was out of the question right now he  _wanted_  to reciprocate. Luckily he knew of one other surefire way to do so and it was something he enjoyed as well.  
  
Since he'd long since figured out that his lover's possessiveness kink seemed to go both ways, Dean didn't even ask and instead just reached up to tug the closest wing towards him. He wasn't sure if it was an angel thing or just something of Castiel's, but if his acting all proprietary towards his lover's wings was something Castiel appreciated then he had no problem doing precisely that.  
  
The near purr that started up next to his ear made Dean think for a moment of his angel's true form and other faces, but then he focused on grooming the feathers before him. He had wondered on how the same touch could be both arousing and soothing at different times, but he supposed that it was similar to how Castiel's current touches were nothing but comforting.  
  



	90. Chapter 89

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel deals with some matters in Heaven and learns some disturbing news.

**PAST**  
  
  
Castiel looked down at the sword in his hands, grief and awe warring for dominance inside of him. Yes, he'd seen archangel blades before, but he'd never truly had the opportunity to simply examine them. It was amazing, awesome in its sheer power and yet subtle somehow as he didn't think that the other angels could see it as he now could. He would have to ask Michael or Raphael about it as archangel blades were not something that they'd covered in his lessons, probably because there had been no spare ones for him to use.  
  
The abrupt reminder brought the reality of where this particular sword had come from crashing back and Castiel swallowed past the grief to look at the angels beside him.  
  
"Did you have any trouble getting it?" Castiel inquired.  
  
"No," Xarael replied. "It was exactly where your mate said it would be."  
  
"I'm amazed that Lucifer just left it there. I would have expected him to take it with him."  
  
"Lucifer was always very particular of his blade," Virgil said. "It wasn't often that he would allow me to touch it and even then it was only when absolutely necessary as he preferred to do all of the basic cleans and maintenance himself."  
  
"So prideful," Castiel murmured testing the feel of the sword.  
  
If there was one thing that could sum up the cause of his brother's downfall, that one sin was it. No matter how much Castiel thought on it, he could not understand what had made Lucifer do what his brother had done. Even with his own rebellion and near Fall, he could not even imagine disobeying his Father. All that he'd done he sincerely believed was not only the right thing to do, but that which he believed his Father would have wanted him to do. Above and beyond that, he just couldn't understand Lucifer's hate for and disgust of humanity. He would be the first to admit that there were those among them who were not worthy of praise or awe- those two who had killed his mate instantly came to mind- but the rest were even if he'd never met another soul that came even close to that of his mate. He'd travelled the world enough to have seen some amazing acts of bravery, kindness and selflessness. As for the flaws, yes sure they were plentiful, but humanity thrived in spite of them and many, like Dean, were all the more amazing because of them. Besides, they were only as flawed as Father had wanted them to be.  
  
In the end, Castiel thought it was a good thing that he couldn't understand his brother's motivation or reasoning, but it still bothered him sometimes. Then there was the fact that being able to understand Lucifer better could give them an advantage in the upcoming war, but alas, it was not to be.  
  
With that thought, Castiel carefully turned the sword so that the blade was facing away from Virgil before holding it out to Heaven's armory master. He had no sooner registered the surprise on Virgil's face when Xarael's hand closed over his wrist.  
  
"I think you should keep it," Xarael said.  
  
"It is not mine," Castiel replied.  
  
"I believe that Gabriel would want you to have it."  
  
Of this Castiel was not so sure. While he still mourned the death of a brother, and most especially one who had stood in defense of his mate, he could not help but recall the abuse he'd received at the renegade archangel's hands during their first and only encounter. After that he was not so sure that Gabriel would wish him to be the one to wield his blade.  
  
"He gave his life to try and stop Lucifer from destroying humanity," Virgil added. "He would wish to see us succeed in this mission and to utilize the best weapons available to do so. This is the best sword for you, Castiel, every archangel needs an archangel's blade."  
  
That was reasoning that Castiel could better agree with but still he hesitated. Like so often before, he wished for his Father's presence so that he could ask for guidance and advice. It felt weird and wrong to take up Gabriel's weapon as his own as he felt neither worthy of it nor confident in his ability to wield it properly. On the other hand he knew it was both a good tactical move and something that Dean would want him to do as it would provide him with better protection. If his mate could continue to use the knife he and Sam had gotten from the demon Ruby despite the fact that it was a reminder of her and both of Sam's greatest betrayals, then he supposed that he could do this. As for his lack of knowledge and skill when it came to wielding it, well he was sure that Michael and Raphael would be willing to show him.  
  
"Very well," Castiel finally stated, secreting it away.  
  
"If you have some time, I have completed the inventory for the armory that you requested," Virgil said.  
  
"And?"  
  
"As expected we possess no other archangel blades."  
  
"So Raziel left armed when he vanished."  
  
"Yes, it would appear so. We have about the right number of regular angel swords that we should have given the number that we lost during the rebellion, but I have requested that everyone in possession of one contacts me so that we have an accurate count."  
  
"Yes, I heard that," Castiel replied. "So we don't seem to have lost weapons like we did tomes?"  
  
"No, I said that we seemed to have all of the regular angel blades that we should have," Virgil responded.  
  
"So we are missing something?" Xarael asked.  
  
"There seem to be a few empty spaces where before we had weapons."  
  
Castiel started to close his eyes and then caught the gesture with a faint hint of fondness and amusement. He was picking up his mate's habits. "What have we lost?"  
  
"I do not know what all of the items were or contained, but from those that I do, one was a poison that renders a vessel useless for the intended angel."  
  
"What?" Castiel questioned when the angel hesitated.  
  
Virgil seemed to think for a moment as to the best way to word what he needed to say before responding. "This poison not only renders the vessel unsuitable for the angel, but it also serves to destroy the vessel's mind and soul."  
  
"How?"  
  
"I do not know the precise mechanism of its actions, merely that Lucifer had utilized it once and was quite pleased with the results."  
  
"And this abomination is gone now?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
A thrill of horror shot through Castiel's Grace at the thought of that poison out there. At the thought that it could be used on Dean. He did not know what he would do if he ever lost his mate, but he knew it wouldn't be pleasant. He knew that he couldn't continue without his human and to know that Dean's very soul was lost was the worst thing that he could possibly imagine. Even the mere thought of it was enough to have terror grip hold of his very Grace and he had to fight off the irrational impulse to fly to his mate's side at once and check that Dean was alright.  
  
"What else?" Xarael asked.  
  
"About half of the Holy oil we used to possess."  
  
"That would account for why I was able to find some on Earth," Castiel mused. "Though it sounds like there is a lot of it unaccounted for, some of which at least Lucifer has. We shall have to be careful."  
  
"Then there were a number of potions and poisons that will only work on demons," Virgil continued. "And some which act against humans that aren't actively vessels though they should be useless against us."  
  
Castiel felt the irrational urge to whisk his mate away to a secure location where none of those weapons could be used against him though he knew Dean wouldn't have it. Not only would his mate never forgive him for it, but his hunter would do everything in his power to escape as soon as possible. No, it was much better as it was with Dean allowing him to drop in on him all of the time.  
  
"Finally we also seem to have lost some of the demon weapons we'd acquired through battle, not all of which we knew how to use," Virgil finished.  
  
"And you have no idea what the other weapons might have been?" Xarael questioned.  
  
"No, I was either never informed of their purpose or they were from the section that I had been told did not concern me."  
  
"Is there any way that you might be able to find out?" Castiel asked. "From old inventories or a reference in the library perhaps?"  
  
"I shall see what I can find, but I am not optimistic, Brother."  
  
"Do your best and let me know what the final sword count is. Oh, and please remember that Dean possesses one."  
  
"Very well," Virgil confirmed, giving a half bow before flying off.  
  
"We have lost far more weapons than I had thought," Xarael stated, displeased.  
  
"I concur," Castiel replied. "I believe our greatest concern is those weapons we know nothing about."  
  
"Beyond what you asked of Virgil, I do not believe that there is much that we can do."  
  
Castiel's wings fluttered in frustration. "No, there is not. See if you can't have the Healers looking into what can be done for those on whom the missing poisons are used so that we know what to do should they surface."  
  
"I was already planning to. You are worried for Dean Winchester."  
  
"Now that Lucifer has been returned to his cage once due to Dean's involvement and the fact that Dean helped perform the Rite of Contressa, I have no doubt that he will be a far bigger target this time. I do not believe our brother will be happy to merely toy with him anymore."  
  
"I agree and shall make sure the Healers realize that the poisons may be used on the Righteous Man if they are in Lucifer's possession."  
  
"Thank you, Sister. Is there anything else?"  
  
"Just one thing. As requested, we have been keeping an eye out for anything unusual and detected a rather large usage of Dark magic, well by human standards. As there was nothing else of interest at the moment, it was looked into further and signs of demonic activity were found."  
  
"Is it a gathering?"  
  
"No, all of it has been rather small and I would not have mentioned it but for the original location of the magic and the demonic movement since."  
  
With those words, Xarael handed over a piece of parchment. Castiel felt fear take hold of his Grace once more as he recognized each and every one of the towns listed. They were all places that Dean had been to recently and while that was alarming enough as he knew that his mate would not have left a town if Dean had known that there were demons there, the order of the towns worried him even more.  
  
 _His mate was being hunted._  
  
The fact that the towns were listed in the exact order that Dean had visited them in couldn't be a coincidence and the only reason that Castiel didn't immediately rush to his mate's side was the fact that they were several towns and half a country behind. That was something that Xarael was also well aware of or he was sure that she'd have mentioned it earlier. Instead he forced himself to focus and think about this rationally.  
  
"This is a complete list?" Castiel demanded.  
  
"Yes and based on their current rate of movement, it should take them a while to catch up with your mate, otherwise I would have told you sooner."  
  
"You saw the pattern, others would not have. Thank you for informing me of this, I shall look into it at once."  
  
"Be careful, Brother."  
  


* * *

  
  
The moment that Castiel arrived in the last town on the list, he could already tell that whatever demons had been here were already gone. He refused to let that panic him as he knew that he wouldn't be able to help his mate or prevent whatever was going on here if he wasn't thinking rationally. Instead he flew to the room that Dean had used and found two dead bodies along with the stench of demons and sulfur. Out of nowhere he was briefly thankful that Dean had still been using a fake credit card when using this room as he knew that the police might otherwise start taking an interest in the fact that his mate had stayed in all of the rooms where things like this had happened afterwards.  
  
The desire to minimize the potential for any such connection to be made had Castiel cleaning the room with a thought before he transported the bodies outside to make it look like they had been attacked and killed in a nearby dark alley. Dean had said that a lot of bad stuff happened in those types of places. He said a quick prayer for the innocent souls that had been so carelessly murdered before he hurried to the next town that Dean had visited. His growing urgency calmed as he easily detected the demonic presence here, though he noted that they had not yet managed to narrow down their search to where his mate had stayed while in this town.  
  
Not wanting to give them any chance to escape least they continue to hunt Dean, Castiel flew right towards them and swiftly dispatched two of them back to Perdition before they even realized that he was there. He captured the other two before they could escape and slammed them against the wall, easily holding them there.  
  
"Who sent you?" Castiel demanded. "Why are you hunting Dean Winchester?"  
  
"Angel!" one of them spat defiantly, struggling to break free.  
  
A quick assessment told Castiel that the demon who had spoken was unlikely to be cooperative while the other seemed more desperate than anything else. He exorcised the first with a thought and focused his attention on the second.  
  
"Please don't send me back!" the creature wailed.  
  
Castiel wondered how quickly this one had broken if he caved so easily. "Answer my question."  
  
"I don't know his name, I swear! All I know is that he wants the human, said he'd reward us for bringing him in."  
  
"Did he say anything else?"  
  
"Just that he wants the human alive. We could play with him all we wanted, but he had to be alive and conscious."  
  
The rage that overtook Castiel was worse than any he'd experienced before and it was all that he could do not to burn out the demon then and there. "Where? Where were you told to bring him?"  
  
"Texas, seven miles north of Houston to an old abandoned warehouse."  
  
Without a seconds hesitation, Castiel exorcised the demon. The only reason that he didn't outright kill it with one of his blades was because he could sense that the host was still alive and he'd gained far too precious and all-encompassing an awareness of the fact that those who were possessed or gave themselves over were still in there to ignore that fact even now. Despite that awareness, he still couldn't bring himself to stay there and wait for the hosts to awaken and instead he flew off immediately to Houston.  
  
With the directions, the demonic presence was not hard to find and Castiel couldn't help but smile as he landed outside of a warehouse only to find it covered in what he was sure the occupants considered complete angel proofing. It was right that they should fear him and his brothers and sisters, especially if they chose to go after Dean. It would be their biggest mistake, the botched job with the sigils being a close second.  
  
Castiel found a lone demon on the third floor of the warehouse and flew into the room with it, grabbing it before it could either flee or cry out for help.  
  
"Where is the one who ordered the capture of Dean Winchester?" Castiel demanded.  
  
The demon glared at him defiantly and Castiel reached out with his Grace to touch its essence. Doing so without the immediate intention of exorcising it made him feel dirty, almost tainted, but he paid it no heed. He was willing to take a little discomfort to ensure his mate's safety. The demon screamed, the sound muffled by his hand, and then sagged into his grip when he drew his Grace back.  
  
"Well?"  
  
It took a bit longer, but the demon still glared at him so Castiel repeated his earlier treatment. He was more than willing to do it a few times, but if the demon proved too resistant then he'd simply kill it and move on. Unlike the last demon, this one's host was already dead and would thus taste the power of Gabriel's blade. It took two more goes, but then the demon no longer glared at him and so he removed his hand from its mouth.  
  
"Downstairs, first floor. He's taken over the old main loading zone as his audience chamber, now let me go."  
  
"Let you go?"  
  
"Yes, I told you what you wanted to know."  
  
"Indeed, which means your worth to me is gone."  
  
Castiel covered the demon's mouth and drove the blade into its neck, watching in satisfaction as the demonic essence was purified and destroyed by the Light and Power of his Grace channelled through the archangel blade. He then discarded the body and flew to the biggest room in the old warehouse, intending to find out exactly who was targeting Dean and why. Unlike with the others, he might also be tempted to take his time with this one. No one hunted or harmed his mate without suffering the consequences and he intended to make that very clear.  
  
This demon would regret the day it had ever decided to go after Dean Winchester.  
  
Seconds after Castiel appeared in the center of the room, halfway between the two demonic presences, there was a metallic click followed by the whooshing rush of air as flames sprang to life and he was encircled, trapped within a burning ring of Holy oil.  
  
"Hello, Clarence, so nice of you to drop by. I was hoping you'd take the bait and pay us a visit."


	91. Chapter 90

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean notices Castiel's disappearance.

**PAST**  
  
  
"Fucking hell," Dean muttered, horrified and enthralled despite himself.  
  
He took back everything that he'd ever thought or said about how bad Dad and Sam were when they'd fought. No matter what it had seemed like at the time, they had absolutely  _nothing_  on the angels and what had gone down in Heaven during Lucifer's rebellion. Now  _that_  was a family fight and he had a hard time wrapping his mind around it. How could brothers and sisters do things like that to each other? To their Father? He'd witnessed enough fights between his own father and brother to know how heated those things could get, but even at their worst they had never gotten physical. Well, outside of training at least. No, the physical aspect of fights within the family had always been reserved for those between Sammy and himself and he was big enough to admit that he'd more often been to blame for that than his little brother. But even then it had never really gotten out of hand, not like this.  
  
Part of Dean wanted to stop reading, to not know anymore, but the rest of him couldn't stop. He supposed it was like those disaster tourists or watching a train wreck. You knew it was bad and wrong and yet you couldn't help yourself. And that was without the need that he had to actually read this for any information on Lucifer. Though part of him hated reading this, hated knowing what Castiel, Michael and hell even Raphael had gone through back then- the pain, suffering, shock, betrayal and horror-, hated the nightmares he was sure were at least partially influenced by the reading, he was still resigned to it. Because, despite all of that, he knew there was no way he'd actually be able to give up on the reading. If it bothered him so much to read this, then he could only imagine what it would be like for his archangels or whoever else they got to do the reading in their stead. So no, he wasn't going to foist this off onto anyone else, he was just going to keep interspersing these books with the ones he'd gotten from the Vatican like he had been doing so far.  
  
Dean turned the page and reached for another Pringle. It took him a few seconds to realize that he wasn't reaching for the wrong spot on the table, but rather that they were all gone. Frowning, he looked at the clock and started so violently that he nearly fell out of his chair. How the hell had it gotten to be six o'clock already? Time had been going so slowly since noon that he couldn't believe that over two hours had suddenly flown by since he started reading this Balthazar's account of Lucifer's rebellion. Talk about being enthralled by a disaster! Not that he was all that sorry that he hadn't been aware of how much time had passed as it meant that Castiel should be here any moment now and otherwise he would have been waiting impatiently for his lover.  
  
The thought of Castiel brought a wicked smile to his face and he couldn't help laughing a little to himself. As part of his ongoing project to introduce his lover to all things human, he'd decided to give his angel a practical introduction to April Fool's Day. After all, there was nothing quite like real life experience, now was there? Besides, he just knew that once his lover was aware of today's special significance that it would be nigh on impossible for him to pull one over on Castiel, what with his special archangel powers and all. No, far better to pull one first and then explain it all, well far better for him at least. Just the thought of his lover's confused and no doubt baffled face was enough to make him glance back at the clock again, desperately wishing that more time had passed then it said had actually happened. And this was why he'd been looking at the clock almost constantly for the first part of the afternoon and hence why it had seemed to drag by so very slowly.  
  
Not wanting the remaining few moments before Castiel's arrival to drag by as slowly as that, Dean forced himself to focus back on the book before him and it was over half an hour before he glanced back up at the clock again. This time he frowned and pulled out his cell phone to check that the alarm clock wasn't wrong. It wasn't. Worry started to grow at the back of his mind and he tried to push it down. Castiel was quite busy, he had probably just been caught up with something and hadn't realized how much time had passed, that was all. His lover was an archangel now, after all, so there was absolutely no reason for him to jump to any bad conclusions here. Only now that the idea was in his head, he couldn't seem to be able to make it go away and the hair at the back of his neck stood on end.  
  
"Get a grip on yourself, Winchester," Dean muttered to himself, trying to force himself to relax.  
  
Unable to stop himself, Dean hit speed dial one but was instantly directed to Castiel's voicemail. For once his lover's confused question on the other end didn't amuse him and he waited impatiently for the beep so that he could leave a message.  
  
"Hey, Cas, it's me. Where are you? You get caught up with something somewhere?" Dean asked. "Look, that's fine, just please let me know, okay?"  
  
Not sure what else to say, Dean ended the call and almost immediately jumped to his feet and started pacing the room. Now that he was worried about his lover there was absolutely no way that he'd be able to concentrate on reading again no matter how much it might help to pass the time or distract his imagination from conjuring up all kinds of unpleasant scenarios.  
  


* * *

  
  
"Meg," Castiel stated as he looked at the woman before him now.  
  
The body was different, unfamiliar, but there was only one demon that called him Clarence and he recognized the demonic essence inside when he looked past the flesh that she now wore. This woman was tall, blond, slender and quite dead. Castiel couldn't immediately see what had killed her, but he could tell that the human soul was gone.  
  
"I'm flattered you recognize me despite my change of outfit," Meg purred, stepping closer to the fire.  
  
"Why did you take another woman?"  
  
"Surely you didn't expect me to keep the last one after what you did to it? Not only did that hurt, but it would have been unsightly afterwards. No, I left her shortly after you escaped. I hope you're proud of what you did as I'm pretty sure that she didn't survive it."  
  
Castiel managed to keep his expression blank but inside he had to suppress a wave of guilt at the thought of that poor woman being abandoned by the demon that had possessed her only to awaken like that. Unfortunately there was nothing he could do about that now and so he tried to push it out of his mind. Instead he quickly glanced around the room looking for anything that would let him escape and for the second demon that he'd sensed before the ignited Holy oil had cut off his senses and most of his power. Although he quickly located the male demon behind him, that was the only success he was met with. The room was bare of anything else and there were no pipes along the ceiling like there had been the last time. In fact there was absolutely nothing that he could see that would be of any use to him.  
  
"Oh, trust me, sweet cheeks, I learned my lesson the last time," Meg stated. "You're not getting out of there this time."  
  
Castiel frowned. "I do not trust you."  
  
"Seriously?" Meg laughed. "Winchester really hasn't managed to teach you the basic expressions yet? He really isn't good for much beyond his pretty looks, is he?"  
  
The tone and words made Castiel bristle but he remained quiet despite the fact that his entire being wanted him to defend his mate. From Meg's earlier words and the prepared ring of Holy oil he was hopeful that she had been after him all along and not Dean so he didn't want to draw her attention back to his mate now by correcting her mistaken view of his hunter.  
  
"What? Nothing to say, Clarence? Could it be that you've finally come to see what he truly is?" Meg cajoled playfully.  
  
"What do you want, demon?" Castiel demanded.  
  
"Not one for small talk, are you?"  
  
Instead of replying, Castiel merely stared at her, well aware now of how that seemed to unnerve anyone other than his mate and his brothers and sisters. As expected, Meg seemed to be unable to maintain eye contact with him for more than a few moments. He was sure that it would only serve to enrage her, but that strategy seemed to work well for his mate and he was sure that she didn't have anything pleasant planned for him anyway, so he might as well do his best to inconvenience and annoy her.  
  
"Fine, we'll do it your way," Meg snapped. "What have you done to Lucifer?"  
  
The question took Castiel by surprise for a moment but then he thought about it for a second and realized that there truly wouldn't be any way for her to know if she hadn't run into a demon that had been in the right area of Perdition since they'd managed to return his brother to the cage. Certainly Simiel could have told them but he couldn't particularly picture his sister interacting with demons unless absolutely necessary. Besides, it wasn't particularly good strategy to tell the ground troops that the general had been imprisoned by a few humans and an almost fallen angel.  
  
So, what would Dean say?  
  
"What, lost track of your creator?" Castiel questioned.  
  
The way Meg's eyes flashed black and the ugly expression that crossed her face told Castiel that he must have been close. His mate definitely tended to elicit these types of reactions in the demons he taunted.  
  
/  
  
The moment the numbers on the clock changed to indicate that Castiel was now officially an hour late with still no word, Dean tried his lover's cell one more time. When he got the answering machine again he decided that it was time to take things to the next level.  
  
"Michael," Dean called, thinking of the archangel.  
  
When there was no immediate flutter of wings, Dean's fear spiked to panic and he wondered if something had happened in Heaven and that all of his archangels were either injured or-  _No!_  He wasn't going to even think of that. He  _couldn't_  even think of that and thus he wouldn't. Despite that assertion, he felt his fear rise to the point where he whirled around and had his hand already going for the Jewel of Abel when he finally did hear the flutter of wings behind him. His mind had conjured up all kinds of scenarios and he wasn't sure that the angel coming to him now would be friendly.  
  
"Michael!" Dean exclaimed as he found one of his archangels now standing before him.  
  
"Little One, what is wrong?"  
  
Any relief that Dean had felt upon seeing his friend hale and whole vanished almost instantly. "Where's Cas?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Where's Cas?"  
  
"I do not know," Michael stated and Dean was about to shout at him when a frown crossed the archangel's face. "I cannot reach him."  
  
"What do you mean that you can't reach him?"  
  
"I am unable to communicate with him. You recall what angelic communication feels like between specific siblings?"  
  
"Yeah, and?"  
  
"And I am unable to make that connection with Castiel. It is as if he is not there."  
  
"Not there?" Dean repeated, his voice high and sharp with panic. "What are you saying? Is he dead?"  
  
"Death is not the only thing that can prevent me from connecting with him."  
  
Although Michael's voice was level, his eyes were anything but calm and the worry and fear that Dean could see there did nothing to quell his own rising terror. "Like what?"  
  
"There are certain spells and sigils that will isolate an angel, similar to those on your ribs. Then there is also Holy oil and whatever Gabriel might have done when he hid himself. Or even Raziel."  
  
Since Dean knew that his lover would never voluntarily hide himself from his siblings, let alone be this late without giving him a heads up about it, he knew that it had to be something bad. Especially when it involved something capable of cutting off an angel's ability to communicate with his brothers and sisters. The thought made him think of how much his lover hated being cut off from the constant babble of angel radio and his fear started to gain an edge of rage at the thought of anyone doing that deliberately to Castiel.  
  
There was a flutter of wings and Dean turned to find Raphael beside him.  
  
"What do you mean you cannot contact Castiel?" Raphael demanded urgently.  
  
"Can you?" Michael demanded.  
  
"No."  
  
"Do either of you know what he was gonna do today before he was supposed to come here?" Dean asked.  
  
"He had a meeting with Xarael," Raphael replied.  
  
Before Dean could even begin to ask them to contact her, she was in the room with them.  
  
"Michael?" Xarael questioned, glancing around at them all.  
  
"When did you last see Cas?" Dean demanded.  
  
"Castiel left Heaven only a few hours ago."  
  
"Do you know what he intended to do?" Michael questioned.  
  
The way that Xarael's eyes flickered to him wasn't lost on Dean and he felt his stomach clench. Oh that wasn't a good sign.  
  
"We had detected the presence of demons who appeared to be tracking Dean's movements across the country," Xarael replied. "Castiel went to investigate."  
  
"Of course he did," Dean growled.  
  
Although his fear was still there, his anger was now definitely as great. Someone had used him to get at Castiel, either that or his lover had been captured while seeking to protect him.  
  
"How far had the demons gotten?" Raphael demanded.  
  
"Fullerton."  
  
"That was over three weeks ago!" Dean exclaimed.  
  
"Yes, it is why Castiel was not immediately worried for your safety," Xarael stated.  
  
"We are wasting time," Raphael said impatiently. "We should go, now."  
  
"No, Xarael, Dean and myself will go to Fullerton, you need to go back to Stull Cemetery, Brother, and watch over the cage," Michael replied.  
  
"But-"  
  
"This might be the whole purpose of whatever was done to Castiel; to leave the cage unprotected by an archangel. With the cage as weak as it is right now, we cannot take the chance of leaving it less well defended."  
  
"Isn't Lucifer just about free anyway?" Dean demanded. "Will it really make a difference if he gets out today instead of next week? We need to find Cas!"  
  
"And we will, Little One, we just cannot let his disappearance make us reckless, Castiel would not want it to."  
  
That was the truth and Dean knew it was, but he found that he just didn't care. By now with all of the new information they had, he was worried sick about his lover and willing to do almost anything to get Castiel back.  
  
"Very well," Raphael assented and Dean nearly screamed. "But keep me updated as to your progress and I will come if you need additional backup."  
  
With that, Raphael flew off and before Dean could say anything a set of wings wrapped around him, pulling him closer to Michael's side.  
  
"Are you ready to go?" Michael asked.  
  
"Ye- No, wait a sec," Dean responded. He quickly moved to his duffel and rummaged around for the demon-killing knife. "Now I am."  
  



	92. Chapter 91

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meg steps up her game.

**PAST**  
  
  
Castiel remained silent and frowned as Meg threw question after question at him. Surely this could not be the demon's whole strategy? To trap and question him like this? Surely she had to know that wouldn't work. He had also not failed to notice how Meg kept her distance from the fire. Even though she managed to put on a brave face for her companion, it was clear to him that she feared him and was afraid of a repeat of what he'd done to her before.  
  
"Why did the other demons think he was in charge?" Castiel asked, pointing at the male demon who had yet to say anything.  
  
"I'm the one asking the questions here!" Meg snapped.  
  
It pleased Castiel that he'd been able to anger her so much already with mostly silence. He'd tried to think of some more comments like those that his mate might have made, but he'd found it far too difficult. He didn't know how Dean did it but suspected that his failure had much to do with his lack of understanding of all of the references that his mate loved so much.  
  
"You are using him," Castiel deduced, interrupting Meg mid-question. "Using him to protect yourself so that if this goes wrong, he'll get the blame. He's your... patsy."  
  
The second demon froze and turned to look at Meg with narrowed black eyes and Castiel wondered if it was going to attack her just then and there. Obviously there had already been some tension between them as this reaction was far too severe for a first-time accusation.  
  
"No, he isn't," Meg denied. "It was simply a precaution to prevent you from guessing who was behind this and thus being on your guard."  
  
"So you will now let everyone know that you are in charge?" Castiel inquired.  
  
"Of course, I don't need him stealing the credit for helping our father."  
  
Castiel saw it the moment he lost the other demon as it went from being angry and fearful to dismayed. It had clearly not thought of being able to crow about its leadership in helping his fallen brother get free, but now that the idea was in its head, it would follow Meg anywhere just to claim to have been an integral part of the same plan.  
  
"Amazing is it not, how your all-powerful father needs help," Castiel stated.  
  
"Shut up," Meg snarled.  
  
As that was precisely the opposite of what she really wanted, Castiel obliged happily and stared at her continuously again. He considered bringing up the fact that his brother would merely destroy her and every other demon in existence if Lucifer somehow managed to win this war, but he then discarded the idea. He had tried to get her see this truth before and had failed, he doubted that she'd be any more receptive to it now then she'd been then.  
  
"Tell me what I want to know!" Meg ordered.  
  
"No," Castiel replied calmly.  
  
Even though he did his best to appear as calm and collected as he sounded, Castiel was anything but that. He knew that things could not remain this easy for long and he feared what Meg had planned. She was absolutely determined to help Lucifer in any way that she could and he feared what she might do to obtain the information she desired. He had no intention of giving it to her, but given the condition of Lucifer's cage and how soon his brother would be free, they didn't have time to waste on things like this. There was far too much work that he needed to do and while he knew that Michael and Raphael wouldn't let any harm come to his mate if at all preventable, he just had to be there for Dean.  
  
The thought of his mate made Castiel realize how late he now was for their arranged evening together and he felt a pang of sympathy for how worried Dean must be right now. He knew how easily his mate took responsibility for things beyond his control and he didn't want Dean to have to either deal with this situation or come to think that any of it was his fault as his mate no doubt would if left to his own devices. No, he had to get free just to ensure that Dean didn't suffer anymore. None of those pledges to himself helped him in his current scenario, however, as he still couldn't think of any way out. The burning Holy oil severely restricted his powers leaving him unable to use most of them or to communicate with his brothers and sisters, effectively cutting him off from his single greatest source of help.  
  
Castiel suddenly remembered the cell phone that Dean had given him so very long ago and he wondered if he could use it to contact his mate. The trick would be to access it without Meg or the other demon noticing, something that didn't appear likely at the moment but he would keep it in mind should he be left alone.  
  
"Fine," Meg spat, now truly enraged. "If you won't tell me then we'll just have to up the ante a little."  
  
The words made Castiel tilt his head to one side as he narrowed his eyes, considering the demon. He'd known that things would have to escalate at some point and he wondered what exactly she had in mind. Just because Meg couldn't kill him didn't mean that he was going to underestimate her even if her options were severely restricted by the fact that she refused to get too close to the flames keeping him trapped. It was a good thing that she didn't know that he couldn't reach across them to grab her or he was sure that she wouldn't be feeling quite so shy. Despite all of that he knew that she could still be a real threat as she had studied under Alastair and he'd seen enough while in Perdition and in Dean's nightmares to know that there was nothing trifling about the tortures that the Chief Inquisitor of Hell had utilized and taught his pupils.  
  
No, Meg was ultimately a very dangerous demon and an extremely clever one when she wanted to be as Castiel had ample proof. She was, however, working with both limited and false information and he planned to make the most of both of those for as long as he could.  
  
Dramatically, Meg whistled and suddenly there were two hellhounds in the room with them, growling and snapping from their place at her heels.  
  
"What do you say now, Clarence, hmm?" Meg inquired. "Ready to tell me what I want to know yet? Or should I let them chew on you a bit, perhaps tear those fluffy little wings I know you have hidden away somewhere?"  
  
"You can do whatever you wish, I will tell you nothing."  
  
Meg roared. "Sick 'em, boys!"  
  
The hellhounds leapt forwards.  
  


* * *

  
  
Dean knew that Michael was well aware of where he'd stayed when in Fullerton and so he was confused as to why they appeared beside the dinner he'd used multiple times while staying here instead of directly in his old room.  
  
"Mike?" Dean questioned.  
  
"There were people in your old room, police I believe," Michael replied as Xarael appeared beside them.  
  
"Cops?"  
  
The words had hardly left Dean's mouth before he was already moving, striding towards the motel and forcing the others to keep up or be left behind.  
  
"Little One, I do not believe it wise to behave so recklessly. Would not a more indirect approach be prudent?" Michael asked.  
  
Dean snorted as he caught sight of the telltale red and blue lights of emergency vehicles ahead. "Are you kidding me?  _That_  would be suspicious behavior and likely to get us noticed. No, trust me, humans are drawn to tragedies so three more won't be noticed. See?"  
  
They'd now gotten close enough that both angels could see the crowd of people huddled just outside of the crime scene tape marking off the area the cops had deemed off-limits. Dean frowned as he noticed the size of the area and that it was actually not quite the motel that was the crime scene but rather a dark alley between the motel and the bar that was located just beside it. He almost snorted at the realization, of course it was an alley, it was  _always_  an alley like the bad guys felt that they had to live up to some horrible cliché or something.  
  
"Why?" Xarael inquired.  
  
It took Dean a moment to realize that she was probably questioning the behavior and he shrugged, unable to come up with a suitable explanation. "Dunno, we just do. You'll have to ask your dad why if you ever see him."  
  
"Dean," Michael chided.  
  
He scowled but focused on the strangers standing at the tape instead. "Excuse me," he said to the first person who looked at him, giving her an innocent yet curious look. "What's going on here?"  
  
"Apparently a couple was found murdered in the alley," the woman replied.  
  
"Murdered? Here in Fullerton?"  
  
"I know, I can hardly believe it myself, we haven't had a murder here in over a decade, never mind such a brutal one."  
  
"Brutal?"  
  
The woman's voice dropped to a whisper. "They say that they were torn apart."  
  
"Oh quit repeating that nonsense, Amanda," a man stated. "We don't know that, that's just heresy."  
  
"It could be true," Amanda argued. "How would you know anyway? Not like you've seen the bodies."  
  
"What's going on over there?" Dean interrupted, pointing at the motel and the door to his old room which stood open.  
  
"Apparently that's where the couple was staying," Amanda stated. "I guess they were looking for their belongings or something."  
  
"Ah, I see," Dean replied faintly. "Thanks."  
  
As he'd expected, both Amanda and the man turned back to gawk at the alley almost right away and Dean was able to back away quickly. The bile was in his throat and he had to fight it down. Those people were dead because of him. The demons had killed them simply because they'd been staying in  _his_  old room. More innocent people slaughtered on his account.  
  
"Little One."  
  
It took Dean a few seconds to remember that he wasn't alone here and then a few more to focus on Michael's face. The archangel now stood before him and was cradling his face between his hands as Michael had done so often before. The archangel's face was grim but also tinged with worry.  
  
"Sorry, I'm fine, it's okay," Dean reassured.  
  
"No, you are not," Michael countered swiftly. "This is not your fault, Little One, you are not to blame for what happened to those people."  
  
"But they were killed-"  
  
"By demons, not you."  
  
"If it weren't for me they wouldn't have been killed!"  
  
"And if it weren't for you far more people would already be dead," Michael argued. "Those demons are after you because of who you are and what you've done, but countless people are also alive because of those very same reasons. You are not to blame for the actions of demons."  
  
"But-"  
  
"Michael speaks the truth, Dean Winchester," Xarael stated.  
  
Dean bit his lip as he glanced from her to Michael and back again. He knew that there was probably some logic to what they were saying but at the moment he couldn't really focus on it. He was only really able to focus on the rage and guilt as it was a desperate distraction from the terrible fear that still gripped him. Angry at himself now, he just shoved the whole guilt issue aside.  
  
"Cas isn't here, is he?" Dean questioned.  
  
"I do not believe so," Michael replied. "Give me a moment."  
  
The archangel was gone before Dean could reply and he turned to look at Xarael instead.  
  
"I believe he has gone to check the whole town," Xarael explained.  
  
"Oh. How long will that- Ah, never mind."  
  
"Castiel is not here," Michael stated.  
  
Before Dean could suggest moving on to the next town they were already there, in his old motel room this time along with one extremely distressed man who screamed when they suddenly appeared and promptly fainted.  
  
"Well that's different," Dean stated before he looked around. "Cas isn't here."  
  
"No, but he has been," Xarael replied, leaning over the man. "This one was possessed, I believe it is why he was so terrified."  
  
"Cas exorcized the demon?"  
  
"It would appear so," Michael said. "Does he know anything?"  
  
Xarael was still crouched over the man but now had her hand resting on his forehead and Dean could only assume that she was checking his memories. A small part of him protested but it was instantly silenced by his ever-growing fear and need to find Castiel. If anything had happened to his lover because of this, because of  _him_ , he wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to forgive himself. He really should have known better than to think that Castiel would be safe; that it would be any different from anyone else that he'd ever loved. He was like a walking, talking curse and woe be anyone stupid enough to get close to him. Why hadn't he been less selfish and warned Castiel off instead of starting this?  
  
The younger angel's face twisted briefly in an expression Dean hadn't ever seen before but which seemed to be some bizarre cross between rage, disgust, disbelief and relief. "No."  
  
"What did you see?" Dean demanded, sure that she had caught something and determined not to let them leave him out of the loop by communicating it via Angel Radio. "You saw something, I know you did. Tell me." Xarael looked at Michael for help and Dean rounded on his friend. "Tell me, dammit! What did he know about Cas?"  
  
"It was not about Castiel," Michael responded and hesitated before looking him in the eyes and Dean could detect the rage there. "The demon in him had plans for you."  
  
"What do you mean plans?"  
  
"You know what I mean, Little One."  
  
Yeah, he knew, but it just enraged Dean further. If Castiel had gotten even the faintest hint of that he knew it would have sent his lover into a wrathful rage and while that type of behavior never failed to touch a part of him, he also knew what that type of anger could do to his angel's judgment.  
  
"So what, we have nothing?" Dean demanded.  
  


* * *

  
  
Castiel was bemused for a moment, not at all sure why Meg felt the need to threaten him with two such creatures he could easily dispatch even with his diminished powers before he realized that she didn't know. The last time that he'd seen the demon, he had been falling and hadn't even been able to properly exorcise her from the woman she'd possessed and she didn't know how drastically things had changed. He felt a surge of satisfaction rise within him at the thought even as he stepped back as far as he could within the burning ring of Holy oil. The hounds leapt right through the fire as if it wasn't even there and lunged for him.  
  
He waited, not wanting to give Meg any time to call them off, before he pulled his blade and swiftly killed both hounds. Castiel knew that the fierce satisfaction he felt upon witnessing their howling demise wasn't entirely becoming of his status, but he couldn't help himself. Just the thought that a creature similar to these had brutally murdered his mate and that one of these two might well have given Joanna Harvelle her fatal wound was too much to ignore.  
  
The tugging Castiel felt on his blade was enough to make him shift all of his focus back to Meg and her companion while he tightened his grip. It took more than that to disarm an angel and he merely wished that he could actually use the sword on one or, preferably, both of them. Meg was still screaming in impotent rage and looked ready to tear him apart herself but he wasn't afraid and was actually feeling a little smug. Despite being trapped in a burning ring of Holy oil, he'd managed to take out two of his enemy's better weapons. It was only a pity that the blade had destroyed the hounds due to their special nature and that he therefore had no bodies to use to break the ring of Holy oil.  
  
"You're going to pay for that!" Meg declared before she turned to the other demon. "Bring me the jug."  
  
"I will not tell you what you want to know," Castiel repeated firmly.  
  
"Oh we'll see about that, Clarence, we'll see. You're going to regret having killed my pets."  
  
Castiel was about to reply when the second demon returned and he could see the earthware jug it held. It looked exactly like the one he'd found the Holy oil in that he and Dean had used to trap Raphael. He felt fear flare up again within his Grace as he wondered exactly how much oil Meg had at her disposal.  
  
"Time to burn, little angel," Meg stated gleefully.  
  



	93. Chapter 92

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael comes up with another plan to find Castiel.

**PAST**

  
Xarael looked as disheartened as he felt and under any other circumstances Dean would have felt the need to offer her some reassurances and to try and comfort her but as it was he just couldn't. Not when he himself was far too plagued by visions of Castiel dead or in serious trouble. If this was anything like what his father had felt after his mother had died then he didn't know how the man had coped. He could also start to understand more why Dad had thrown himself into the hunt so obsessively. If it had been Simiel that had hurt his lover then he would hunt her down and gank her with pleasure.

"There may be," Michael mused and Dean turned eagerly to find a pensive look on the archangel's face as Michael stared back at him. "Take your shirt off."

"Huh?" Dean replied and then yelped as his jacket, over shirt and shirt were suddenly gone. "What the hell?"

The next thing that Dean knew, Michael was beside him taking hold of his arm so that the archangel could move him. He realized what was going to happen just before Michael's hand settled on the scar on his left shoulder. It felt incredibly wrong and weird to have anyone other than Castiel touch him there and it was all that he could do not to instinctively yank his arm away. He'd never really thought about it all that much- hell, he hadn't even wanted to at first- but he'd never been able to stand anyone else touching him there, not even Sam and Bobby and that had been before he'd first met his lover. It had just always seemed far too intimate somehow, something which had only grown when his relationship with Castiel had turned sexual, especially with his angel's tendency to grip it during sex.

"Mike?" Dean questioned through gritted teeth, doing his best not to pull away.

If this was something to help Castiel then he could deal with it, Dean just wanted to know how it was conducive to finding his lover.

"This is the physical manifestation of a bond that exists between your soul and my brother's Grace," Michael explained. "Now hush, Little One, and allow me to concentrate."

Dean bit back his other questions, wanting to get to his lover far more than he wanted answers to all of the questions he currently had. Still, he tried to at least focus on them a little so that he wouldn't think about how much time had passed since Castiel had first failed to turn up. And who knew how long before that his angel had first gotten into trouble?

A wave of wrongness suddenly flooded over him and Dean gasped, clutching at the archangel's arm. Before he could ask what that was, it happened again and this time the world swam before his eyes as his vision grayed and shifted. Part of him recognized the touch within him as Michael from when the archangel had actually been inside of him, but it felt different and wrong and he could only imagine that it was as a direct the result of it being felt through the bond he shared with Castiel. And what the hell was that about anyway? He'd known that there was something between his lover and himself, but he'd never thought that it could be used to help find his angel and that kinda scared him.

When the next wave of wrongness washed through him, Dean allowed his eyes to fall shut simply to prevent everything from shifting around him again. It was starting to make him feel sick and he really had to fight off each and every instinct to pull away from the archangel beside him and curl protectively around the scar on his shoulder. In that moment he was far more aware of the bond he shared with Castiel than ever before and he cherished it more too.

"Little One, please stop fighting me," Michael requested, voice strained.

The latter startled Dean enough that his eyes flew open to regard the archangel beside him. Michael's eyes were closed and there was strain on his face as he concentrated. It was with a shock that he felt how strongly his friend was gripping his shoulder.

"I'm not," Dean answered. "Or at least not consciously anyway. It's all I can do not to pull away, though, it just doesn't feel right."

"No, of course it would not," Xarael said as she stepped closer. "It is a bond created by Castiel with whom you have become mates, the touch of any other angel would draw an adverse reaction from yourself."

Dean glanced at Xarael and remembered once again his questions about the angelic use of the word mate and the meaning behind it. Somehow he kept avoiding the questions when he was able to ask them, a part of him almost afraid of the answer for some reason. Given how close he was with Castiel right now that instinct made him nervous in a way he hadn't yet allowed himself to consider all too closely. The fact that they were dealing with a renewed Apocalypse, or at least what would soon be one, had allowed him ample excuses to indulge in that particular form of what he knew to be cowardice. He just couldn't help it, though, despite all that had happened between him and his lover, he was still expecting the other shoe to drop on some level and now he was absolutely terrified that it was going to do so in a horrifyingly permanent manner.

When Michael stepped back, Dean felt his heart drop further at the frustrated expression on the archangel's face.

"It didn't work," Dean stated.

"I cannot reach Castiel's end of the bond," Michael explained. "Your soul is very protective of my brother and will not allow me to view it."

"I was surprised you even attempted it," Xarael admitted. "I had not believed such a connection would even be possible."

"A normal bond would not permit it, but that between Castiel and Dean is of a peculiar nature. It was forged in Perdition directly with Dean's soul and has since been strengthened."

"What do I need to do to let you at it?" Dean asked.

"I do not believe that you can consciously do so."

"There has to be something that we can do!"

"Yes, I believe that there is."

* * *

 

"Nothing you do will make me tell you what you want to know," Castiel declared confidently.

"We shall see about that, Clarence," Meg replied as she uncorked the jar. "Now, what have you done with my father, Lucifer?"

Castiel's lips drew into a thin line and he allowed his usual expressionless mask to fall into place. He would not tell the demon what she wanted to know and knew that things were about to get very bad for him. He did not know how much Holy oil Meg had, but even a little could cause a lot of damage if she knew how to use it and he had to assume that Lucifer had told her enough. He was surprised that he brother had told her so much and left the oil with her to begin with, but it did fit Lucifer's reputation for arrogance so he assumed that his brother had simply been drunk on power. Either that or he had understood how completely he had Meg under his power.

"No?" Meg prompted, sounding almost pleased. "You must like pain then."

Not giving into the demon, Castiel instead suppressed the instinct to flare his wings out in an aggressive gesture. With the way that he was trapped it would only serve to injure himself. The helplessness he felt now was far too familiar and it was something that he had hoped never to feel again after regaining his power, much less so soon. The knowledge that his mate must surely be worried sick at the moment didn't help the situation any either and only served to unsettle him even more, his every instinct screaming at him to go find and soothe Dean.

"I was hoping you'd give me this opportunity," Meg admitted.

Before Castiel could even think to reply, Meg had already swung the jar forwards so that some of the Holy oil within flew out of it, straight through the fire which lit it and onto him. He screamed as it burned his vessel and true form alike, the abrupt and all-consuming pain unlike anything he had ever felt before. Although he'd experienced many injuries and felt the bite of many weapons in his time serving his Father and Heaven, he had been fortunate enough never to be subjected to Holy oil before. He had seen the consequences of its use only a handful of times, but none of them had been pretty. Only Michael had managed to overcome it swiftly, but he knew that to be because his oldest brother had returned straight to Heaven and the Healers after he had attacked him.

Now Castiel writhed and did his best to extinguish the burning oil though it was difficult to even think through the excruciating pain. His right wings had taken the brunt of the attack and were screaming their complaints at him. Pure terror gripped him at the thought that he might never fly again if his wings were irreparably damaged. He'd never before even considered giving an enemy what they wanted just to save himself, but it flitted across his mind now, if only for the briefest of moments before his right mind reasserted itself and with it came self-hatred for even having thought of it. He would not betray his mate and siblings merely to spare himself some pain. Meg could not kill him and sooner or later she would make a mistake and he'd be able to escape or Dean would perform yet another impossible feat and manage to find and rescue him. It wouldn't be the first time that his mate did something like that despite the odds.

"Well, Clarence? Ready to tell me what I want to know yet?"

"No."

* * *

 

The next moment they were back in Dean's current motel room and Michael was guiding him towards the bed. When the archangel joined him on it he realized where things were going and he steeled himself as best he could before he nodded at his friend.

"Do it," Dean said.

"I shall try to prevent you from going under this time, Little One."

Bright light filled the room as Michael left Deirdre and Dean suddenly wondered why the archangel taking him as a vessel was so very different from how Castiel had moved from Claire to Jimmy that one time he'd witnessed his lover changing vessels. Had his angel done things differently then because Sam, Amelia and himself had been present and would otherwise have had their eyes burned out? Or was it because Castiel had still been a normal angel back then and Michael was an archangel? It wasn't really all that important, but it gave him something more pleasant to think about than what might be happening to his lover right now or his friend's Grace as it entered him.

All such distractions became useless when Michael was far enough into him to start first curling around his soul and then to start pushing it down to make room for all of the archangel's Grace. It was something else that Dean had purposefully not thought too much about, how there was actually room inside of himself for Michael, or inside of all vessels for that matter. Was that part of what it meant to be a vessel? To somehow have that room? If so, what was different about them from normal, regular humans to make that room? Were they missing something or had something somehow been added to them? It as all very confusing.

This time Dean had started wrapping himself around the tendrils of Michael's Grace from the moment it was within reach and he felt himself being pulled closer to his friend's essence at the same time even as he was being pushed down within himself. When the darkness came its pull was far less strong than either of the two previous times and it only edged around his vision a little while he felt himself held securely within Michael's Grace the whole time and didn't feel in danger of being pulled under. Then the archangel was completely within him and he relaxed his grip, panting.

"Well that went better than before," Dean said, though it was by no means something familiar or easy to endure just yet.

Part of him hoped that it never would be even if it would make things easier.

"Yes it did," Michael agreed. "Now this may feel a bit strange, but please try not to resist me."

"Go for it."

Dean felt Michael's Grace tighten around his soul and the sensation was pleasant at first, as if he was being wrapped in a particularly warm hug. Oddly, it seemed to take some of the edge off of his panic and dread which he assumed had as much to do with the fact that he could feel the sheer power the archangel possessed- and thus close to that which his lover had at his disposal too- as with the feelings of determination and fury that he could sense from his friend. It clearly told him that Michael was deeply concerned about his brother's absence and would do all that he could to find and rescue Castiel.

Then he felt another wave of wrongness but this time it felt different. Dean wasn't sure that he could describe it, it just was. It was followed swiftly by a sense of what he could only describe as pure Cas and his soul reacted instinctively, reaching out towards it before he could stop himself.

"Sorry," Dean said, trying to pull back.

It was hard as all he wanted to do was to bury himself in the sense of his lover and the relief he felt upon experiencing the proof of what he knew to mean that Castiel was still alive, but if it helped then he'd do it.

"No, do not stop, Little One," Michael replied. "Do it again. Reach out for Castiel."

"It's a good thing?"

"Yes, you are obviously able to do instinctively that which I have been trying to do via your bond."


	94. Chapter 93

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While being tortured, Castiel suddenly feels his mate.

**PAST**  
  
  
Castiel screamed as Meg threw more Holy oil through the flames and onto him. He did his best to avoid it, but his best was piteous to say the least. Trapped within the burning ring of more Holy oil, his range of movement was so limited that he could not completely avoid the additional oil the demon threw at him. All rational thought left him as the oil burned his vessel and true form alike, hurting him more than he'd ever been hurt before. He'd thought that Perdition had been bad when he'd entered it to save Dean; the demons, the sulfur, the darkness and the lack of easy connection with Heaven all combining to create an environment unlike any he'd ever known before and worse than anything he'd ever experienced before.  
  
Until now.  
  
If Castiel had ever wondered about how bad Holy oil could truly be, he definitely had his answer now and the knowledge that it couldn't kill him was of little comfort. He was finally starting to understand what humans meant with their expression 'a fate worse than death' though he dearly wished that he'd never attained this firsthand experience of it. The oil seared its way along his true form, once again catching the wings on his right side and he wondered if that was coincidence or if Meg was deliberately targeting the same side again even if she couldn't see his wings. As the horrendous pain retreated just enough for him to hear that Meg was speaking once more he couldn't help but wonder if she realized exactly how debilitating the Holy oil was for an angel. She couldn't or she'd know better than to try and address him now as he could only just make out that she was speaking, never mind  _what_  she was actually saying. Her voice washed past him in a meaningless blur and he refused to expend any effort on trying to understand it as there was no point in doing so. He didn't need to know what she was saying to know what his response should be.  
  
Despite the agonizing pain, Castiel was determined not to give in and tell her what she wanted to know. He would not betray everyone he loved- his mate, his brothers and sisters and, his Father- just to save himself. Not when there was so much at stake and especially not when Meg's supply of Holy oil had to be limited. He could do this, he could endure this. He was an archangel now and had been a warrior all of his existence. Pain, sacrifice and endurance were part of his nature and what was required of him and thus he would serve. Besides, he knew his mate far too well to think that Dean was currently doing anything other than trying desperately to find him and he'd had enough personal experience with his mate's determination to know that Dean could perform seemingly impossible feats when he set his mind to it and he would not underestimate his hunter now. Nor ever again if he could help it.  
  
The next wave of scorching agony made him scream aloud and Castiel was so focused on the sheer, unimaginable pain of it that at first he missed the new sensation that brushed up against his Grace and sent its own shockwaves along it. Still, despite that, he became aware of it far sooner than he had any right to no matter how wonderful and soothing it felt.  
  
Dean; his mate.  
  
The second that Castiel consciously became aware of the new sensation he knew what it was. He would recognize the touch of his mate's soul anywhere, no matter the circumstances or condition either he or it was in. Dean had been seared into his Grace from the moment he'd first touched his mate's soul down in the depths of Perdition despite how covered in darkness and taint as it had been. His mate's soul had been recognizably different under those worst of conditions and he'd never be able to forget it or what it had felt like to touch it even if he'd ever wanted to. Automatically he reached out for it, unable as ever to resist his mate's call and desperate for relief from the overwhelming agony he was still experiencing.  
  
As more consciousness slowly returned to Castiel, he slowly began to think about escape once more. Like Dean, he had never been one to sit around and wait to be rescued and the hallucination he was currently experiencing merely served to spur him on. He didn't know how he was conjuring the sensation of his mate's soul to make it seem like he was actually able to  _feel_  Dean via their bond, but he most definitely knew why his Grace was doing it. Just the mere thought of once more touching his hunter's soul was enough to spur him on and make the pain lesson slightly even if it didn't become any more bearable. Once more the thought of the cell phone crossed his mind and this time acted on it. With the way things were going, he could clearly no longer afford to wait for a more opportune time as there might never be one and he was suddenly afraid that the small device would be irreparably damaged by the fire.  
  
The thought had Castiel struggling to reach the cell phone in his inner coat pocket, the sudden determination and fear forcing him to move screaming muscles though he wanted nothing more than to simply drop to the floor and curl himself up to prevent any further damage and pain. The horror of potentially never being able to fly again flashed across his mind once more and it was all that he could do not to whimper at the mere idea. He immediately tried to shove the thought aside, trying to think instead of how undamaged Michael had been from his own encounter with being exposed to burning Holy oil, but he knew that it wasn't the same. His oldest brother had only had one, quick exposure to it and had been able to escape straight back to Heaven where Michael had received immediate medical attention from the Healers. He had no such opportunities and the damage would be far greater and potentially everlasting.  
  
Meg's words continued to wash over him, their meaning as elusive as before as Castiel struggled desperately to get at and open his cell phone. He was sure that the only reason that he hadn't been stopped yet was that his movements were so uncoordinated that he knew neither demon had yet to figure out what his intentions were or indeed that he had any beyond twitching helplessly under the onslaught of the burning Holy oil. It seemed to take forever, but when he finally managed to retrieve and open his cellular communications device, he found another reason why they hadn't bothered stopping him and it was because of the message that appeared on the little screen.  
  
 _No service._  
  
Castiel screamed again as more burning oil landed on him along with a frustrated cry from Meg.  
  


* * *

  
  
Although Dean had never done it before, he knew the moment that he was successful as he was not only suddenly awash in the sense of  _Castiel_ , but he was also unexpectedly caught up in a wave of sheering pain unlike anything he'd ever felt before this side of Hell. He cried out unthinkingly but then, before he could do anything else, his connection with his lover was abruptly broken and he was immediately cradled in soothing Grace and warmth as Michael sought to comfort him.  
  
" _Cas!_ " Dean called out, resisting. " _No, let me go, let me back at him!_ "  
  
" _No, it is not necessary, Little One,_ " Michael replied. " _I was able to detect Castiel's location from the brief contact you had with him._ "  
  
" _What, you were?_ "  
  
" _Yes._ "  
  
" _Where is he?_ "  
  
" _Just outside of Houston, Texas._ "  
  
" _What the Hell are they doing with him?_ "  
  
" _I cannot be sure, but it felt like he was being subjected to Holy oil._ "  
  
The words sent a thrill of horror through Dean as he recalled all that his lover had told him about Holy oil and how easily he had seen the stuff tame even an archangel as fiery as Raphael. Despite that, Castiel had never mentioned anything about how unbelievably painful it was to experience, but it kinda made sense given that it could restrain an angel and keep them in place. On top of that, the only time he'd ever seen it actually used on an angel had been when Castiel had thrown that Molotov cocktail at Michael and then the archangel had screamed and immediately fled and the incident had enraged Lucifer, the one who wanted to fight and defeat Michael. The one who wanted to  _kill_  Michael. From that alone he should have known the true power of Holy oil and yet he'd never truly stopped to think about it like that, but then that might have had as much to do with the fact that he didn't really like to think too much on things that could seriously harm his lover or his new friends. There was something so incredibly reassuring to him in the knowledge that none of them could easily be hurt, that they were all so amazingly powerful and resilient, that he really loathed to linger too long on the ways in which they were vulnerable and could be seriously injured or even killed.  
  
"Michael?" Xarael questioned and suddenly Dean could see her, as completely connected with his meatsuit as was possible while he was a vessel.  
  
"I know where Castiel is," Michael stated. "Follow me."  
  
With that the archangel took flight and Dean felt his heart soar at the thought of finally being able to see his lover again. At the same time, however, a part of him didn't want to see Castiel. That part of him thought of the pain he'd sensed radiating from his angel during their brief connection and was absolutely terrified of what they'd find and it wanted instead to bury his head in the sand and not have to deal with the potentially horrifying reality that they would find in Texas. He squashed that part of him the instant he became aware of it, but it made him aware of the terror he felt and made him confront the fact that his lover might be seriously injured and almost definitely hurt beyond all of his abilities to heal. The thought depressed him until he remembered Raphael's gift and that heartened him slightly along with the memory of what had happened in Stull. Michael had been subjected to Holy oil then and the archangel was fine, so it gave him the hope that he so desperately needed for now even given how short the flight was. His imagination had never been constrained by anything so frivolous as time and had always been able to conjure up a myriad of horrific scenarios in under a second.  
  
Then they landed and all such thoughts fled Dean's mind. Instead he was assaulted by the screams of his lover, the smell of fire and the sight of two twisting black abominations that it took him several seconds to recognize as demons. In all of his times as Michael's vessel they'd never come across a demon before and thus he'd never laid eyes on one with the enhanced sight of an angel and it was an astounding sight to behold. In some minuscule way it was similar to that severely tainted soul he'd caught a glimpse of when out with Michael, but only in so much as a drop of rain was kinda like a vast ocean. The only reason that he was even able to make the connection at all was because he was forcing himself not to glance at his lover as he knew that the moment he looked at Castiel he'd break. The sheer agony he'd felt earlier and the absolutely horrendous scream that was only just starting to peter off told him all he needed to know about his angel's condition and he knew that if he gave it even half a chance, he'd be completely overwhelmed by it and that was simply something he couldn't afford right now.  
  
Yes, Dean was fully aware of the fact that he couldn't really do anything at the moment, that  _Michael_  was in charge of things just now, but he knew that what he did and how he reacted could make a hell of a difference in how things went for him. If he allowed himself to be distracted and to focus on Castiel then he'd lose all control and want nothing more than to rush to his lover's side and focus solely on him, something which simply wouldn't happen and then he'd feel trapped, locked inside his own body, completely helpless. And not only would that make an already unbearable situation a thousand times more so, but he also knew that it wasn't fair to Michael who also wanted nothing more than to rush to his brother's side and aid him. Despite all of that, the thing that ultimately allowed him to keep his focus on the demons was the knowledge that they were responsible for torturing his lover and the fact that he could literally feel Michael's bloodlust singing in his veins and it merely served to ignite his own desire for vengeance and retribution.  
  
They had hurt his lover, had dared to torture Castiel, and they needed to pay for that. Dean snarled, wanting nothing more than to throw himself at the demon holding what he instantly recognized as a jug of Holy oil. It needed to die,  _now_. He felt a flare of surprise and acknowledgement within him from Michael and then they were moving, flying across the room in a heartbeat and grasping hold of the demon by the throat even as she tried to turn around to face them.  
  
"Winchester," the demon stated, startled. "Wha- How did you get in here?"  
  
Dean was momentarily stunned, surprised that she knew his name as he didn't recognize her, but then that didn't really mean anything. Demons often changed hosts at the drop of a hat and he'd definitely pissed off enough demons over the past few years to have made himself memorable to more than a few of them. Still, the vast majority of demons preferred to take hosts that were physically more powerful or intimidating and there was only one who was still alive that he knew to consistently take a female body.  
  
" _Meg,_ " Dean said, sending Michael a compressed burst of memory so that the archangel knew exactly who they were dealing with here.  
  
"Meg," Michael repeated aloud.  
  
"Come to save your little angel, have you? Sorry, but you can't have him, he's mine," Meg declared, clearly not yet understanding her predicament.  
  
There was a sharp cry from across the room followed by the sound of a sword being drawn and Dean knew that Xarael was on the other demon. He felt a sense of satisfaction, but it passed quickly as Michael wrested the jug of Holy oil from Meg and he finally saw the confusion and shock that he'd been looking for cross her face. The fact that it was swiftly followed by absolute terror made something primal and dark inside of him roar its approval, sated only slightly when Michael doused the flames with a wave of his hand though the archangel never took his eyes off the demon in his grasp.  
  
"Angel," Meg spat, hissing as she tried to break free and failed.  
  
"Demon spawn," Michael replied, tightening his fingers around her throat. "You will pay for what you have done to my brother."  
  
Both the feel of the demonic essence squirming wildly beneath his fingers and the sight of it made Dean smile. This time Meg wouldn't be able to escape, this time she would pay for all that she'd done. Briefly he wished that Bobby could be here now to witness the end of the one who had ultimately been responsible for the older hunter ending up in a wheelchair for as long as he had, but then he banished the thought, not even wanting to think about the man who had betrayed him so easily.  
  
"Impossible, Dean Winchester an angelic vessel?" Meg spat.  
  
"Not just a vessel,  _the_  vessel."  
  
" _The_  vessel? What, you think you're some sort of special angel?"  
  
On some level Meg's bravado astounded Dean as he'd never quite expected her to be able to keep it up when truly threatened, but he could also understand it, having often been there himself. The fact that he could, though, pissed him off. He didn't want to be able to understand her on that kind of level, not after what she'd done to his lover, not after how she'd tortured Castiel, but he had to wonder if it was inevitable on some level. Despite how wildly different they were, there were similarities in their backgrounds which were impossible to ignore and they could all be summed up in just one name; Alastair. The knowledge made him even more fearful of what he'd find when Michael finally turned his attention to Castiel.  
  
"Lucifer definitely thinks so," Michael stated calmly.  
  
The horror and realization that lit up Meg's eyes delighted Dean, as did her renewed struggles for freedom.  
  
" _Little One?_ "  
  
" _Do it,_ " Dean replied, knowing what the archangel was asking for. " _Fucking kill her so that she can't ever do this or anything else ever again._ "  
  
The fact that Michael thought to check with him touched Dean as it proved that his friend was considering what he had to say, but this wasn't at all like before with Roy. Unlike humans, demons were inherently evil,  _couldn't_  be anything else given what they were and how they were created, so there was no reason to exercise the same kind of restraint with them as with people. Whereas a human could learn and change, a demon couldn't. A demon was pure evil and would always perpetuate that evil with nothing but pleasure and for no other reason than simply because it could. Therefore it was with an intense satisfaction that he watched, and felt, Michael draw his sword.  
  
"No!" Meg shrieked desperately.  
  
"You tortured a beloved brother of mine."  
  
"Mercy, Michael!"  
  
"No."  
  
A part of Dean screamed when he watched the blade sink into Meg, hating that she was going to get off so easily after all that she'd done, but the rest of him knew that it was the best way. Despite himself, he couldn't help but be somewhat fascinated by the way Michael's sword seemed to start glowing and then he could almost  _feel_  it, the blade that was. It took him a moment to realize that it was the archangel's Grace that was running through the weapon, straight into Meg's demonic essence. She screamed as the Light started to work its way through her Dark, obliterating everything in its path. No,  _purifying_  and obliterating it. It kinda reminded him of all of those souls down in Hell, the ones that had been partially demonified already only now the whole process seemed to run in reverse and ended with the complete and utter annihilation of Meg. Good riddance to bad garbage and all, but he was incredibly glad that he'd gotten the chance to see Meg's death through Michael's eyes. It was far more satisfying then witnessing a demon die with his own sight.  
  
Then Michael dropped the body and turned towards Castiel. The moment that Dean caught sight of his angel he felt his heart leap into his throat.  
  
His lover looked dead.


	95. Chapter 94

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Michael can finally turn their attention towards Castiel.

**PAST**  
  
  
Dean didn't even have time to cry out his lover's name before they were suddenly beside Castiel, Michael having flown them across the room. The archangel glanced up only briefly to ensure that Xarael had indeed managed to kill the other demon before all of their attention was focused exclusively on the broken angel before them. Part of him wished that he didn't have Michael inside of him just now as he really wanted to glance up and away, if only for a moment, as what he saw before him now was simply too horrifying to bear.  
  
Castiel, no Castiel's  _vessel_ , Dean reminded himself forcefully, was covered in what looked like fucking  _fifth_  degree burns, the skin blackened and peeling and sluggishly oozing blood and what looked like pus. Jimmy's clothes were either gone, singed or looked like they'd melted and, in places, started fusing with his angel's skin. It was the worst thing that he had ever seen and yet he suddenly knew that, despite his earlier desire, he wouldn't be able to pull his eyes away from it even if he were in control of his own meatsuit.  
  
All of that, however, paled in comparison to the state of Castiel's wings.  
  
His lover's perfect, sensitive, beautiful wings were a mess. Dean made a horrible strangled moaning sound in the back of his throat as his eyes took in the damage. The feathers on the right set of wings were mostly burned to a crisp, hardly more than charred remains in parts and completely gone in others. In those areas where there weren't any feathers left the thin membrane of skin was lucky to be in the same shape as the worst parts of Castiel's vessel as most of it was even worse off. It seemed to be almost entirely gone in some places, the delicate bones and muscles underneath showing through as clearly as those of his torture victims in Hell had when he'd pinned them up and skinned them, seeking to replicate some horrific anatomy experiment. In comparison his angel's left set of wings had come out of the ordeal pretty well being only faintly singed with the occasional burn as if the Holy oil had splashed a bit and caught the odd spot or two.  
  
Altogether the sight paralyzed Dean, literally rooting him to the spot in his mind's eye and he could only watch uncomprehendingly as his body began to move under Michael's control. For a moment he just didn't get it. Didn't get how the archangel could even think about doing anything, let alone actually following it through with such a horror lying before them but then he thought back to all of the times that he'd simply reacted when Sammy or his father had been hurt. It had been as if he didn't even have to think about it at times, the need to help and heal so ingrained in him that his body had responded automatically while his mind had needed to race to catch up. For whatever reason that just didn't seem to be happening to him here and now. Instead he was still frozen in horror and terror as Michael reached out and laid a hand on his brother's head.  
  
The next thing that Dean knew the archangel's Grace was swirling within and around him, his soul now easily adjusting to the shifting Power cradling it so that it not only didn't discomfort him anymore, but so that Michael was able to focus fully on the task at hand. When his mind finally caught up with the reality of the situation, it was all that he could do not to break down right then and there and he tried to shove the reaction aside, attempting to concentrate instead on coming up with something to  _do_  to help Castiel. The mere thought of being unable to do anything to help his lover now that he was needed most was enough to start driving him mad and he feared that he'd have to resign himself to it as he didn't really see what he could do so long as he was Michael's vessel. Not that he wanted the archangel to leave him as that would mean losing the connection he currently had with Michael's Grace and thereby the ability to  _feel_  the archangel healing his lover.  
  
Dean was dimly aware of Xarael coming to kneel beside them, but he paid her little heed. Instead all he could focus on was the feel of Michael's Grace reaching out to Castiel. He didn't quite understand what was being done to his lover, but it seemed to be helping because soon his angel stirred slightly, making pained little noises.  
  
" _Can't you keep him under?_ " Dean asked. " _Keep him unaware of the pain?_ "  
  
" _Not with everything else that I am doing,_ " Michael replied. " _It is too much for me._ "  
  
The words nearly made Dean rebel. How could anything be too much for the archangel, he was  _Michael_  for God's sake! But he caught the reaction in time, well at least as far as words were concerned and he could only hope that his friend was far too focused on Castiel to have caught the sentiment from his mind. It wouldn't help anyone to deal with those types of thoughts just now, himself included, but he couldn't really help it. His mind had always gone to unfortunate places when he was powerless to help someone he cared about, let alone someone he loved so deeply.  
  
" _Then shouldn't we call Raphael?_ " Dean demanded. " _You said that he had a gift for healing? Can't he do more?_ "  
  
" _Yes, he can and he will, I just need to stabilize Castiel enough so that I can fly him to Heaven._ "  
  
" _Heaven?_ " Dean questioned startled.  
  
" _It is where most of our Healers are and where Castiel will be able to receive the best of care._ "  
  
Oh, well that made sense and yet Dean couldn't help but hate the idea. He couldn't go to Heaven, well at least not without Michael riding him and he wasn't actually sure if he could go there even with the archangel in him, not while he was alive anyway. The thought of asking his friend to kill him just so that he could be with his lover while Castiel was in Heaven crossed his mind but he dismissed it right away, already knowing what Michael's answer to that particular request would be. Given the way that things had started shifting between him and Raphael he also wasn't sure that the other archangel would do it either. Besides, he actually wasn't sure if he'd be able to get into the right part of Heaven as a regular soul. During his last unfortunate trip upstairs he and Sam had traversed a significant portion of Heaven and yet they'd never seen anything even remotely like what Castiel had mentioned the angel portion of Heaven looked like and he really didn't fancy trekking around aimlessly while he didn't know what was happening to his angel.  
  
Despite all of that Dean couldn't really bring himself to protest the idea though. Castiel not only needed but deserved the best treatment possible and he knew for a fact that this meant Heaven no matter how much he might hate the place. This was definitely so far beyond his own first aid skill level as to be ridiculous. If this were any other situation he'd have called nine one one a long time ago, not even trusting himself to move the victim unless absolutely necessary to save their life.  
  
Castiel moaned and started to twitch restlessly which could only be causing him further pain. Dean wanted to speak with his lover, to reassure him that he was there and to tell him not to move, but he couldn't. Luckily it seemed that he wasn't the only one feeling like that as Xarael reached out and laid a hand on Castiel's shoulder.  
  
"Peace, Brother, you must be still," Xarael said. "You have been gravely injured."  
  
"Sister?" Castiel questioned.  
  
The single word made Dean's heart soar and sink at the same time. On the one hand it proved that his lover was still with them but on the other hand Castiel sounded absolutely horrible. His voice was wrecked and not in a good way but rather in a way that showed that his angel had been screaming and was too hurt to heal what would normally be such an insignificant ailment for him. Then, to his utter delight, Castiel's eyes fluttered and opened and he could see his lover's baby blues. True, they were clouded with pain, but they were alert and it was another small miracle that he was more than happy to take and cling to. He absently wondered how much of this was Michael's doing but he wasn't sure that he wanted to know as he could hardly take the knowledge of how badly his angel had been hurt as it was.  
  
" _Cas,_ " Dean moaned as his lover's eyes flickered from Xarael over to them.  
  
"De- Michael," Castiel whispered.  
  
"Dean is here, Brother," Michael reassured, voice strained. "He calls for you."  
  
"Meg?"  
  
"Dead."  
  
The sheer satisfaction in Michael's voice was echoed by the archangel's feelings and Dean let them wash over him with pleasure. There was something dark and alluring to them that he instantly recognized from his own darkness and knowing that Michael felt like that as well soothed something inside of him that had always wondered and worried about what he was capable of and whether or not some part of him had been hopelessly and irrevocably twisted and ruined by what he had done down in Hell under Alastair's tutelage. To know that an archangel, let alone  _the_  archangel, possessed similar thoughts, feelings and darkness was a welcome relief.  
  
"Hurts," Castiel whispered, voice filled with pain.  
  
That one word was enough to have Dean practically chomping at the bit and the only reason that he wasn't tearing at the bonds that kept him from full control of his meatsuit was the knowledge that doing so would only be detrimental to his lover. Michael wasn't the problem here and could well be the only reason that Castiel was even conscious just now. To fight the archangel would not only be completely counterproductive and massively stupid, but would actually result in exactly the opposite of what he wanted to achieve and for once he was keenly aware of that fact before he acted instead of only realizing it after the fact.  
  
He just hated being so fucking useless while his lover was in so much pain!  
  
"I know, Brother," Michael replied. " _You are not useless right now, Little One._ "  
  
" _Like Hell I'm not!_ "  
  
" _You are my true vessel, Dean, the only one in which I can use all of my powers without worrying about causing damage to my vessel or anyone else. If I were currently in your aunt or anyone else, I would not be able to use as much of my Grace to aid Castiel and therefore he would be in even more pain at present._ "  
  
Even more. That particular word choice was not at all lost on Dean and it pained him. God, just how badly was his angel injured? Michael had been doing nothing but healing Castiel since kneeling by his side and yet he couldn't see any difference whatsoever to the wounds. They still looked as horrifying and frightful as before. If this was  _even more_  then he absolutely hated to think what  _less_  would be.  
  
" _I am focusing on Castiel's true form first,_ " Michael explained. " _Those injuries are the most severe and in the greatest need of care._ "  
  
If he'd been in control of his own body, Dean knew that he'd be vomiting right now. The wounds to Castiel's true form were  _worse_  than those that he could see on his lover's body? The thought was too much to bear and he couldn't help but see flashes of Hell and what he'd both seen and experienced there, his memories more than ready to help inform him of how things could get more 'severe' than what he was currently seeing. God but he really hated his own mind at times, it seemed perpetually ready to betray him whenever his defenses were down.  
  
Castiel had turned his head just enough so that he could easily watch them and Dean was grateful that Michael met his gaze head-on even as the archangel continued to heal his brother. His lover had always seemed to enjoy and take comfort in those staring matches they got into and if doing so now managed to help him on some level then he wanted to give it to Castiel even if it was only his face. It seemed to be enough for his angel just now and he kept eye contact with Castiel even though he knew that he could focus his attention elsewhere and his lover would never know as all his angel could see was Michael just now. That didn't matter, however, as he'd know and it gave him the illusion of being able to do something. Some small part of him almost hoped that Castiel would be able to sense his attention but then he quickly squashed it. He was  _not_  such a chick dammit!  
  
"There," Michael finally stated an indeterminate amount of time later. "I have done what I can to stabilize your injuries enough for transportation to Heaven."  
  
"Thank you, Michael," Castiel replied hoarsely.  
  
"Do not be deceived, Brother, it will still hurt tremendously for I am not a Healer and your injuries are severe."  
  
"I know, but it is something I must bear before things can get better."  
  
" _Mike!_ " Dean pleaded, not quite sure what he was asking for but unable to simply listen to that.  
  
Instead of replying, the archangel reached out and cupped Castiel face with a hand and Dean's eyes dropped to half-mast as he greedily drank in the sensation of just touching his lover's face as Michael did his best to funnel the feeling directly back to his soul. The illusion seemed to be enough for Castiel as well as his angel closed his own eyes and leaned into the touch as if seeking comfort from it.  
  
" _Thanks,_ " Dean finally managed to say though it sounded thick and choked up even to his own mental ears. And damn, why couldn't he even deceive himself here of all places?  
  
" _You are both precious to me, Little One, it was my pleasure to be able to help you both at once with something so easy,_ " Michael responded before he shifted his attention. "Xarael, please let the Healers know that we are coming."  
  
"Yes, Michael," Xarael replied and vanished in a flutter of wings.  
  
"I am ready, Brother," Castiel stated before Michael could ask.  
  
Dean could feel the archangel inside of him lift his lover with the utmost care but it wasn't enough to prevent Castiel from making small, pained noises or to keep his angel's face free of new pain. It was as if every sound or sign of pain was a knife to the gut and he tried desperately not to focus on the gaping wounds still covering so much of his lover's body and wings. Then Michael spread his wings and flew them up to Heaven.


	96. Chapter 95

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael and Dean deliver Castiel into the Healer's care.

**PAST**  
  
  
Vaguely Dean was aware that they were in Heaven when they arrived somewhere new filled with angels, but it was a distant awareness made insignificant by the broken and precious burden Michael held in their arms. The flight had clearly caused Castiel great agony despite how gentle Michael had been and his lover was unable to contain all of his pain though he knew his angel well enough to know that he'd tried and that only made things worse for him. If Castiel sounded this bad despite all of his best efforts then how much was it really hurting his lover? Luckily the Healers needed no more prompting other than their sudden appearance as they sprang into action at once.  
  
Instead of crowding around them as human paramedics might have, the Healers made room so that Michael was able to approach and lower Castiel carefully onto what looked more like a padded altar than a bed but Dean guessed that was the purpose it served. It made sense that it didn't much resemble a bed as angels had no use for those while an altar would be something far more familiar to them. Not to mention the fact that they'd be constantly praying to their Father to step in and aid their injured sibling. At this very moment he knew that he'd drop to his own knees and pray as well if he believed that it could possibly aid Castiel's recovery.  
  
Dean had been so focused on his lover that while he'd noticed the other angels around them, he hadn't actually  _noticed_  them. At least not properly. Therefore it was with a start that he suddenly realized that with the exception of himself and Castiel, none of them were human. Or rather, none of them were currently in a human vessel. Instead they were all as Lucifer had been when he'd seen the devil in his cage, nothing but unrestrained Grace in all of its bright, shiny and shimmering glory. Everywhere he looked Grace shifted and rippled, faces ranging from humanoid to the extremes of the animal and the mythical, though almost all of them were static, completely unlike the rapidly shifting and morphing of Lucifer's enraged form. He chose to take it as a good thing, a sign that these angels were far more calm and in control than the devil had been even if they were now faced with an unexpected medical emergency situation.  
  
The first time that one of his angels had mentioned the Healers it had caught Dean completely by surprise. Yes he'd known by that point that there were different classes of angels, the Seraph and Virtues among them, but the fact that there were Healers was not something that he'd ever really considered or expected. Angels had seemed so incredibly impervious to almost everything that he'd assumed on some level that they would have no need for doctors and the like. After all, the vast majority of angels that he'd seen be hurt in some way had seemed to take care of themselves without any outside assistance. So much for assumptions.  
  
After having only ever seen angels in vessels with the one glaring exception of Lucifer in his cage while performing the Rite of Contressa with Michael, it threw Dean for a loop to see so many of them in their true forms even though he really should have expected it what with his currently being in Heaven and all.  
  
" _Their lack of a vessel is the reason why I tended to Castiel myself instead of summoning help,_ " Michael stated, clearly having heard enough of his thoughts to be able to follow his line of thinking. " _It would have taken them far longer to find their vessels and obtain the necessary permission to take them then it did for me to stabilize Castiel enough for transport._ "  
  
" _Oh._ "  
  
He hadn't really given the matter much thought, his attention focused elsewhere for good reason. But it made sense to Dean and part of him also approved of the fact that the archangel had acted in such a manner that less people had needed to become aware of the very real existence of angels or the Apocalypse that was about to restart around them. While he was definitely a big fan of people being properly protected and not being vulnerable, he was also totally for them never learning the truth about what was out there simply because once someone's eyes had been opened, they could never go back to their old life. At least not completely. Just knowing what went bump in the night tended to have a dramatic effect on people and their ease of mind. No, he'd much rather that as many people as possible remained ignorant and, most importantly, innocent of the evil and darkness out there to which they were mostly helpless.  
  
Not to mention the fact that the amateurs who tried to do something to help others generally ended up only getting themselves and others killed in the process.  
  
"Michael," one of the healers suddenly said, stepping forwards. "Castiel has been severely injured, to the extent where we truly require Raphael's expertise in these matters."  
  
"Yes, of course, Miniel," Michael replied. "I shall go relieve him so he can come here at once. Please keep me informed of Castiel's progress when you have the time."  
  
" _Whoa, wait, what?_ " Dean demanded, not liking what he was hearing, not at all. " _No! We can't go, Cas needs us!_ "  
  
"Of course, Brother," Miniel promised.  
  
" _At the moment he needs Raphael more, Little One,_ " Michael stated, stretching his many wings and taking flight.  
  
" _No!_ " Dean screamed, surging forwards to try and make the archangel turn around. " _We can't leave him, he's hurt! Just call Raphael._ "  
  
" _The cage must not be left without proper protection and with Simiel free that means that there must be an archangel present at all times, otherwise the others standing guard as exposed to unnecessary risks. You know this, Little One._ "  
  
" _Screw the cage and screw Lucifer!_ " Dean snarled, furious as he started to struggle in earnest. " _I don't give a crap about that. Cas is hurt, dammit! Turn back._ "  
  
" _You do not mean that._ "  
  
" _Like hell I don't!_ "  
  
" _Dean-_ "  
  
" _What the fuck does it matter anyway?_ " Dean demanded. " _He'll be out within a week anyway, that's what you said the other day. Who cares if he gets out a few days earlier?_ "  
  
" _You of all people should know how much damage my brother is capable of wrecking in a very short amount of time._ "  
  
" _You said he'd be weak!_ "  
  
" _Being weak is not the same as being unable to act,_ " Michael replied. " _If anything, what we did to him with the Rite of Contressa will have infuriated him even more than simply being locked back up in his cage did and trust me, Little One, he was already unbelievably enraged with you for that particular triumph of yours._ "  
  
" _Turn back. Now._ "  
  
" _No._ "  
  
Although on some level Dean hadn't truly been expecting any other reply, the single word, the single  _denial_  of his demand, was like a bucket of ice water. It managed to freeze him both physically as well as all the way down to his very core. It was horror, dread and agony all rolled into one sharp, hard syllable. It was the dreaded horror from before the temporary halt they'd managed to wrestle the Apocalypse to and the main theme from his nightmares since the day Zachariah had told him that he was Michael's vessel in his father's old storage locker. It was the soul-wrenching fear of being taken and made into nothing more than a helpless puppet within his own mind, having absolutely no control over his meatsuit and what it did while an archangel called the shots and did stuff he'd never dream of doing not to mention not being at all what he wanted to do at this particular point in time.  
  
Now, just like before when he'd awakened after Michael had taken him that first time or when the archangel had started to rifle through his memories looking for those with himself and Castiel, Dean found his struggles to be more or less futile. Oh he was giving it his all despite that,  _needing_  to get back to his lover and do whatever he could to help his angel, but it seemed to do jack shit. The ease with which Michael seemed to be able to block his attempts to regain some control over his own meatsuit merely served to wind him up even more and made him that much more determined to wrest power back from the archangel so he could return to his lover's side where he belonged.  
  
" _Dean, please, do not do this,_ " Michael said just as he lost his connection with his meatsuit entirely and was left trapped in the Grace light of his own mind. " _You have to see that we must do this. We-_ "  
  
" _Back! Take us back now._ "  
  
" _I cannot leave the cage undefended._ "  
  
" _Fine, you go back but leave me with Cas._ "  
  
" _Castiel is in Heaven at the moment, you cannot go there-_ "  
  
" _So kill me and then send me up there._ "  
  
" _Little One!_ "  
  
The shock and reproach in the reply were entirely lost on Dean, instead all he heard was the clear denial in those two little words. It was all he needed to know to persist in his struggles. If Michael wouldn't take them back and the archangel outright refused to ensure that he'd be able to be by Castiel's side, then he had to take matters into his own hands. Which he would, just as soon as he was able to regain control over his own meatsuit, no way was he letting something like this stand in his way of being there when his lover needed him most. It was what allowed him to continue lashing out even as Michael's Grace seemed to constrict around him, slowly but surely restraining his flailing arms and legs and pinning them in place against the rest of his body.  
  
Dean was only half aware of the wild, animalistic sounds escaping his lips but he couldn't bring himself to care. He kept fighting and tried desperately to ignore the worry and anguish he could feel coming from his friend along the bond that they currently shared as angel and vessel. He didn't care what Michael was feeling at the moment, he just needed Castiel, his Cas. All he could see before his eyes was his lover's tortured and mangled body as it had been, lying on the cold warehouse floor ravaged by the Holy oil and fire so badly that he wasn't sure his angel would ever fully recover. And now, instead of allowing him to remain by Castiel's side so that he could monitor his lover's recovery and the work of the Healers, Michael was forcibly taking him away against his will to babysit a brother that was bound to break free any day now on his own. It was stupid and pointless and  _not what he wanted to do_!  
  
The memories of the warehouse did remind Dean of how they'd gotten there in the first place and he was already reaching for the bond he shared with his lover before he'd consciously made the decision. The instinctive nature of the action startled him, but he let it slide, wanting and  _needing_  the connection with Castiel far too badly to question anything that made his ability to obtain it any easier. It took longer than before, probably due to a combination of the fact that he was fighting Michael's hold on him and the fact that his friend wasn't actively trying to help him this time, but he managed it nonetheless. He gave a small cry of joy as the  _essence_  of Castiel flooded over and through him, but then it was followed swiftly by the unbearable, all-consuming pain that he'd felt before and his cry choked off, strangled.  
  
" _No, Little One, you must not,_ " Michael interjected and suddenly the connection was simply gone.  
  
The abrupt loss and the reminder of exactly how much agony his lover was in made Dean lose whatever restraint and grasp on sanity he had left and with a snarl he began  _throwing_  himself at the archangel's hold on him. He wasn't entirely sure what he was capable of here as he was trapped within his own mind, but based on what Michael had said before, he more or less was his soul right now. Sure, he still seemed to be what he was like in his meatsuit, but that had more to do with the fact that his mind and soul were unable to let go of that image of himself than the fact that it was any true representation of who and what he was right now. He felt something flare within him and the hold on him seemed to weaken, but only briefly before he was fully immobilized once more but he continued to strain against it.  
  
" _Little One, please, stop,_ " Michael's true voice begged, echoing all around him in that odd way which seemed to only happen here in his own head. It figured that his mind had some fucked up acoustics. " _Please, Dean._ "  
  
The words and tone of voice, the gentle restraint he felt all around him and the wash off he was getting of the archangel's own emotions combined to overwhelm Dean and he sobbed involuntarily, his resistance fading away with his anger as suddenly as they'd flared up and all he was left with were fear, desperation and helplessness. The fists he'd used to pound against Michael and his Grace had lost their tension while he wasn't paying attention and were now instead clutching almost desperately at the archangel who'd appeared before him. Not allowing himself to think about it for even a second, he buried his face into Michael's neck and hung on for dear life as his wayward emotions burst out of him uncontrollably. This new loss of control scared the crap out of him as it had never before happened to him as far back as he could remember though he felt like it was something one might do with a parent under more normal circumstances.  
  
" _Shh, hush, Little One,_ " Michael soothed, whispering in his ear and running gentle hands up and down his back. " _I know you wish to be with your mate, but this is truly the best way to help him, I promise._ "  
  
Dean felt utterly drained now and hiccupped against the archangel's shoulder, hands tightening further into veritable death grips on Michael's clothing. Or rather the mental representation of Deirdre's clothing.  
  
" _Cas,_ " was all Dean managed to force out, utterly miserable.  
  
" _When he is more fully healed and you have regained enough control, you can re-establish the direct connection you share with him,_ " Michael promised.  
  
" _You blocked it,_ " Dean accused though it was without any true heat.  
  
Between the archangel's own roiling emotions and the gentle way his soul was being cradled and stroked, Dean found that most of his true ire had vanished leaving him instead with the more heavy burden of fear and worry.  
  
" _Feeling what Castiel does at the moment will not do you any good and will only serve to torture you. In addition you are not fully in control of yourself and it will not help Castiel to feel your anguish and despair. He would only attempt to leave the Healers to come and find you._ "  
  
The words sent a little shock of horror through Dean as he knew they were true. If his lover thought that he was in any danger or simply in need of help, then Castiel would abandon all else, including his own health, to come to him. He still couldn't understand what possessed the poor, stupid fool to see so much in him, but he wasn't going to allow it to interfere with what his angel needed even if it meant not being directly connected with Castiel just now.


	97. Chapter 96

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael deals with the consequences of his actions and Dean's breakdown.

**PAST**  
  
  
The trembling of the soul within him and the way that Dean clutched so desperately at his Grace made Michael wish that there was something more that he could do. The irony of the situation was not lost on him and while he didn't regret killing the demon Meg quickly as his brother had needed his help, he did wish that she had been better punished for her crimes first. As an archangel it wasn't often that he was made to feel powerless, but he did now and only the knowledge that at least one of them had to remain somewhat calm and rational allowed him to maintain his composure, but it was hard. Not only had his little brother been horrifically attacked, but his vessel was in extreme distress and he'd been forced to use his superior power and strength against Dean.  
  
The reminder made Michael wince and he felt a brief flash of anger at his vessel for forcing him to do that but it was gone even before he had fully realized it. Dean had reacted instinctively, needing to be near his mate while Castiel was injured and he could not only understand that reaction, but was incredibly pleased with it. It proved unequivocally that all of his fears at the start, when he'd first figured out that they were together, were completely unfounded. Not that he hadn't already known that, but he could hardly complain about the proof of it even if it meant that he'd been forced to do something so incredibly distasteful.  
  
Still, despite that, Michael almost wished that Dean didn't feel so deeply simply because what he'd been forced to do bothered him that much. Now that he'd come to understand why his vessel had been so against saying yes to him originally and now that he knew precisely how much his Father still valued the right of humans to consent to becoming a vessel, he hated what he'd had to do more than ever. It now went against everything that he valued and all that he'd promised to Dean and Castiel and it made him feel that he'd failed them both even though he knew that he'd taken the right course of action for everyone involved. At first glance it looked like his vessel had gotten the short straw as he so often did, but he knew that once everything had calmed down Dean would never have forgiven himself if Lucifer had gotten out early and people had gotten hurt because of it.  
  
It was little consolation, however, and Michael tried not to let it bother him and chose instead to focus his attention on keeping an eye on his environment so that he actually accomplished what he'd set out to do and none of the resulting misery was for nothing. He kept a close eye on Dean, though, and made sure to keep a steady, soothing flow of support going so that his vessel could recover on his own time while still knowing that he wasn't alone. In a way it was good that Dean took his time as his friend had once told him that he could lose track of time while being a vessel and the more time he missed now, the more information that he'd be able to give Dean about Castiel when his vessel recovered enough to ask about his mate.  
  
He noticed that the angels standing guard with him around the entrance to the cage were more nervous than usual, but Michael was sure that was due to his own state of alert rather than anything else. Well, his own behavior and that of Raphael who had left them unexpectedly earlier in the day, not to mention the fact that he'd relieved his brother before the end of Raphael's shift. They knew that something had happened to Castiel but he hadn't had the heart to tell them exactly how bad it was, simply that those responsible had been dealt with.  
  
It was hours later when the sun was just peaking above the horizon that Dean finally stirred and Michael halted his steady flow of comfort, surprised at how much he'd been soothing himself in the process. It had been the only thing he could do for either Castiel or his vessel and he'd clung to it, pleased that he could provide shelter for Dean to finally deal with at least some of his emotions, something which he knew his friend detested and avoided if at all possible. He didn't believe it to be very healthy but knew his vessel would resist any attempts of his to address that issue under normal circumstances. He merely wished now that he could continue his attentions as he knew they helped both of them but he feared that his friend would be resistant to them now that he was becoming more aware.  
  
" _Michael?_ " Dean questioned a short while later.  
  
" _I am here, Little One,_ " Michael replied. " _Are you feeling better?_ "  
  
" _Any news on Cas? Has Raphael or Miniel said anything to you yet?_ "  
  
Yes, Michael wasn't sure what he'd been thinking when he'd originally thought that Dean didn't truly appreciate and love Castiel. It must have been his own stubbornness and inability to believe that he'd been so very wrong about his vessel as now the signs seemed so terribly obvious as to be impossible to miss. It made him fear for his brother as he was sure that Lucifer would not let such a clear why to hurt Dean go untried, but he knew that it was pointless to dwell on it. Besides, Castiel had done more than enough to annoy their brother in his own right and would have been a target either way. He'd just have to do his best to ensure that Castiel was able to protect himself as good as possible with his new powers for he had little doubt that Lucifer had missed concerned and slightly panicked way his little brother had reacted when Simiel had attacked and wounded both Dean and himself. If there was one thing their fallen brother was good at, it was detecting and exploiting weaknesses and that was without such a display as Lucifer had observed.  
  
" _No, Little One. I am sorry._ "  
  
" _Can you call them?_ "  
  
" _Raphael promised to let me know how things were as soon as he had the time to do so,_ " Michael replied. " _We should not interrupt him if he has not yet contacted us as it means that he is still busy. You do not want to distract him from Castiel, do you?_ "  
  
" _What about Miniel? Can't we ask him?_ "  
  
" _I am sure that he would have let us know how things were if he were not busy himself._ "  
  
The strangled sound that escaped from his vessel made Michael wince as it was far too reminiscent of the sounds that Dean had been making earlier during his breakdown. Almost as if to prove him right, he felt the soul shuddering within him once more and he was afraid it would rapidly escalate to more.  
  
" _I'm sorry, I don't know why this keeps happening,_ " Dean said.  
  
" _It is because you exist purely as a soul right now, Little One,_ " Michael explained gently, very deliberately running his Grace all along his vessel's precious soul to ensure that his point got across to his stubborn little human. " _It is similar to how you are unable to deceive yourself anymore in this state. If you feel it at all, you will experience it now._ "  
  
" _You didn't mention any of this before I said yes._ "  
  
" _It was in the fine print._ "  
  
The ripple of shock and surprise that suddenly came from Dean made Michael smile, pleased that he had managed to understand his vessel's sense of humor enough to successfully imitate it.  
  
" _Ha, ha, ha, funny guy,_ " Dean stated dryly. " _I think we can stop your lessons on human behavior now since you seem intent on constantly using it all against me whenever possible._ "  
  
" _I believe you have said that before._ "  
  
" _Yeah, well, I really mean it this time._ "  
  
" _Of course you do, Little One._ "  
  
Michael managed to suppress his laugh when Dean scowled at his placating tone, pleased to see some of his little human's defiant attitude and usual fire and spirit return. He hadn't liked the glimpse he'd gotten of a broken and hopeless Dean. It served him right though for having once sought to achieve that very goal and he couldn't help but wonder if this wasn't one of his Father's many lessons and punishments for to his earlier behavior. If so, he merely wished that his Father had kept Dean out of the lesson as his friend didn't deserve to be hurt just so that he would learn from his mistakes.  
  
This time when Dean reached out to reestablish his connection with his body, Michael allowed it and waited to see if his hunter would also attempt to reconnect with Castiel as well. Although his vessel was fine just now, he feared that experiencing Castiel's pain and anguish would simply serve to upset Dean needlessly and might trigger another cycle given the hunter's fragile state, something which he thought neither of them was ready for. Dean must have thought the same as he didn't reach for the bond though he could feel how much his little human desired to do so and how much he yearned for Castiel with every part of his soul.  
  
" _What's Aunt Deirdre doing here?_ " Dean asked, catching sight of her body where he'd carefully deposited her under a nearby tree.  
  
" _I had Xarael bring her here in case you wished for me to leave you,_ " Michael replied.  
  
" _Oh, thanks._ "  
  
" _Would you like me to do so?_ "  
  
" _No! I mean at least not if you don't want to._ "  
  
" _I would rather remain here in you._ "  
  
" _Okay, good, 'cause I wanna know the moment you hear something from either Raphael or Miniel._ "  
  
The little shudder that ran through Dean's soul in addition to the occasional bout of trembling he still experienced told Michael that it was more than just that and he stroked the precious soul nestled safely within his Grace some more. " _It is alright to admit that you do not want to be alone, Little One._ "  
  
" _I don't know what you're talking about,_ " Dean retorted, shrugging as if to dislodge his Grace. " _Dude, knock it off with the touchy-feely already. That's my soul you're molesting._ "  
  
So precious his little human. So feisty, fiery and stubborn, but ultimately so very precious.  
  
" _Your mate has been seriously injured and you cannot be at his side,_ " Michael began. " _It is perfectly normal that you are feeling extremely agitated and aggravated. In such times it is okay to accept comfort from friends and family._ "  
  
Silence was his only response, but the reflective quality of it told Michael that he hadn't been simply ignored and that Dean was actually considering his words. This knowledge was further confirmed by the fact that when he next reached out to soothe, his touch wasn't rejected outright and it made his Grace soar, pleased to be doing  _something_  useful for one of the two people he so desperately wanted to help right now. He made a pleased sound and did his best to project his own feelings so that Dean would know that he understood what he was feeling and going through.  
  
" _What..._ " Dean began and hesitated before plowing straight on. " _What do you guys mean when you say mate? Is it like lover?_ "  
  
The question startled Michael and it took him a few moments to ascertain that yes, Dean was actually asking him what he thought he was. That surprised him so much that he wasn't quite sure what to say at first. Castiel hadn't told his mate? It seemed inconceivable to him at first, but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense, he just wasn't used to looking at the issue in any way other than from an angelic point of view. Dean, however, was not only human, but remarkably so which was most likely one of the very reasons why he was the Righteous Man, but it did make things that much more difficult in so very many ways. Such as this one. That his vessel had trouble expressing emotions other than anger and defiance was something that he'd come to understand only with time. Indeed at first he had mistaken the hunter's lack of obvious other emotions as a sign that he didn't feel them, an error in judgment he hadn't fully realized the depths of until he'd finally taken Dean as his vessel and got to experience the wash off of some of them firsthand.  
  
Briefly Michael hesitated, wondering if Castiel perhaps didn't want his mate to fully realize what it was that angelic standards saw them as, but then he discarded the notion. His brother had never seemed to be anything but open when it came to his relationship with Dean and he knew that Castiel would not lie to his mate. So it must have been other reasons that led to Dean not knowing how he and his brethren viewed them. It did explain a few things though.  
  
" _Michael?_ " Dean questioned, nervous now.  
  
" _Sorry, Little One, I am merely surprised that you do not already know,_ " Michael explained.  
  
" _Should I?_ "  
  
" _I had simply thought that Castiel would have told you, but I suppose it might not have come up as you dislike conversations about your emotions._ "  
  
" _I've told Cas how I feel about him!_ "  
  
It wasn't the first time that Michael wondered how he could understand Dean so well and yet still manage to either say or do the wrong thing and make his little human think he meant something other than what he did. " _I was not implying that you had not, I was merely endeavouring to explain why the topic might not have come up before. I could be completely wrong, you would have to ask Castiel as only he would know for sure._ "  
  
" _Well?_ "  
  
" _It is quite simple, Little One. When angels mate, and I mean truly mate as the two of you have done, we do so for life._ "


	98. Chapter 97

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobby ponders about Christian and Sam before Dean and Castiel arrive.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
Bobby had to forcibly remind himself why he couldn't just shoot Christian Campbell. It wasn't often that the desire to intentionally harm or even kill a human being came to him, but when it did, it did so big time.  
  
Like right now.  
  
It was all that Bobby could do not to reach for his gun as the guy continued to argue with Samuel about why calling Dean and Castiel had been a bad idea and how they should leave now before they showed up. Inevitably his anger slowly began to transfer itself to Sam as he knew that the Campbell idjit had gotten all of his ideas and opinions about Dean from the Winchester idjit. He just didn't get what Sam had been thinking and still was, acting the way that he was. Yes, he could freely admit that he'd gone along with Sam's plan not to tell Dean about his return. Therefore he knew that he couldn't say much about Sam's actions on that front, but that particular incident was only the tip of the iceberg.  
  
Lord knew that Bobby hated to admit it, but he'd always worried that Sam took a bit too much after his father for his own good and the boy was only proving him right with all he said and did now. With how good Dean had turned out and the boy's sharp improvement after John's death, he'd hoped that Sam would come out from under his papa's shadow as well but it seemed not to be the case even with all of the time the idjit had spent with his mother's family as of late. Ironically enough, if anything, they'd only brought out more of John in the boy instead of his momma.  
  
"You know, given the way that Castiel reacted when Sam insulted Dean, I really don't think that you want to be caught doing so by him, Christian," Gwen stated. "Which means you should probably shut up now before they arrive."  
  
"She's got a point," Sam said. "Cas has always been quite sensitive when it comes to Dean."  
  
From the play of emotions on Christian's face, Bobby could tell that the man's initial reaction was along the lines of the fact that he didn't care what Castiel thought, but then he obviously thought the better of it. At least the man wasn't completely hopeless though he wasn't holding his breath for any genuine sense either. Besides, a healthy respect for the supernatural was something any good hunter needed to have or they simply wouldn't last for any amount of time. As it was, he still wasn't convinced that Christian wouldn't get himself smited by Castiel sooner rather than later. From what little he'd seen during Dean and the angel's last visit, Castiel was as fiercely protective of the boy as ever, if not more so given the new aspect of their relationship. And he still couldn't quite believe that!  
  
"Well this is sober."  
  
The sudden statement made everyone jump and given Dean's huge smile, Bobby knew that had been the boy's exact intention. He shook his head in disapproval but Dean's smile was contagious and he couldn't help but return it a moment later. Clearly he was turning into a sap in his old age, but so what? He'd honestly been afraid that he'd never see that smile again, at least not directed at him, so he knew it'd be enough to make him cave on many an issue in the near future. He could only hope that Dean didn't realize that or he'd be totally screwed.  
  
"Dean!" Sam exclaimed, whirling around from the sink at which he'd been standing.  
  
"Sam."  
  
"Where the hell did you find a pristine Led Zeppelin tour shirt?" Christian demanded.  
  
"Huh?" Dean replied before glancing down at what he was wearing. "Oh, this? Cool, isn't it?"  
  
"It's amazingly well preserved," Bobby admitted quickly, slightly afraid of Christian's reaction.  
  
Now that he was looking at it and paying attention to what Dean was wearing, Bobby noticed something else weird. Once again the boy was wearing a necklace with a pendant around his neck. It hadn't struck him as odd before as it was something Dean had done ever since he was a boy until just before what they'd thought was the end of Apocalypse, but now he saw that it wasn't what he'd at first assumed it was. It wasn't the pendant he'd given Sam all of those years ago, but rather a different one and not something he recognized. A quick glance at Sam showed that the boy had also noticed it if the tight expression was anything to go by.  
  
"It's not," Dean stated.  
  
"What?" Bobby questioned.  
  
"Well preserved. The shirt's simply brand new."  
  
"Wait," Samuel interjected, looking at Christian. "I thought you said Led Zeppelin broke up in nineteen eighty after the death of Bonham?"  
  
"They did," Christian confirmed. "And they don't make tour shirts anymore, so it can't be new."  
  
"I didn't say it came from now," Dean replied along with another huge and easy smile. "Just that it was new."  
  
"I don't get the distinction," Gwen stated just as Sam gasped.  
  
"Oh you didn't! Dean- Cas, tell me you didn't let him convince you to take him back in time just to buy a t-shirt!" Sam exclaimed.  
  
Bobby nearly choked on his coffee as he realized that Sam was right. Time travel was exactly what Dean had been implying but surely the boy hadn't done that. Dean hardly ever asked for anything for himself and even then it was always small things that were easy enough to get like beer, pie or burgers, or things for his car. Despite that, a part of him almost wished that the boy had asked for it as it would mean that Castiel had gotten him comfortable enough to start being a little less self-sacrificing and maybe a teensy bit selfish.  
  
"No, I didn't," Castiel replied. " _I_  decided to take Dean back to see a Led Zeppelin concert and then he got the shirt."  
  
"You took him back for a concert?" Samuel demanded incredulously.  
  
"It was my birthday present and it was awesome. Led Zeppelin rocks!" Dean declared.  
  
The angel was head over heels, Bobby realized with a start, amazed now that he'd never come to that conclusion before despite noticing the inhuman loyalty and devotion to the idjit. Castiel was completely gone on Dean and would do anything the boy asked and even what the eldest Winchester couldn't ask for. It should have been a scary thought, the mere idea of such a powerful supernatural creature as an angel doing whatever a human wanted, but he knew if anyone could be trusted not to abuse that power it was Dean. Well, not to really abuse it anyway as he wouldn't put it past the boy cause mischief with that kind of power, but nothing serious, not Dean. He'd be the first to admit that things could have changed since he'd last spent a significant amount of time with the oldest Winchester, but things could not have changed that much, never that much. Not with Dean and his angels.  
  
How did he ever get himself into these kinds of situations anyway? Bobby was only all too aware that only a few short years ago that if anyone had told him about Dean and the boy's angels he'd have thought them insane or assumed they were referring to the women Dean always slept with. Yet now look at them. It did prove his belief though, that Dean had a genuine heart of gold buried under that gruff and smartass exterior of his.  
  
"Are you kidding?" Sam demanded. "Or are you really saying that, in the middle of the Apocalypse, you guys stopped to go to a stupid concert?"  
  
"Hey!" Dean protested. "Led Zeppelin's not stupid! Besides, this was before the Apocalypse restarted."  
  
"It was also shortly after Dean and Michael performed the Rite of Contressa on Lucifer," Castiel added. "Dean deserved to take a day off."  
  
"What on Earth is the Rite of Contressa?" Gwen inquired.  
  
"It's the reason why you have not had to worry about Lucifer wanting one of you as a vessel before now. It rendered him unable to take one."  
  
"Kinda like an angelic impotency spell," Dean stated gleefully. "And boy let me tell you, Lucy was pissed when we performed it!"  
  
"I can well imagine," Bobby said. "I've never heard of this rite before, any chance you can tell me more about it?"  
  
A quick, wordless glance passed between the two of them before Dean nodded. "Later."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"Good. Now, why'd you need to see us?"  
  
"We've been performing the cleansing spells on Sam as requested," Samuel began which caused Castiel to frown as he titled his head, observing the younger Winchester.  
  
"He is still tainted, we cannot perform the spell with him in this state," Castiel stated bluntly.  
  
Sam flinched and Bobby frowned at how unaffected Dean seemed about his brother's plight. He knew things were bad between them but it said a lot that the boy wasn't instantly in uproar about Sam's state. Not that he thought it was a bad thing per se. God knew how often he'd lamented about Dean's seeming inability to hold even a simple grudge against his brother especially when one was more than called for, but man was it weird to see.  
  
"That's just it, we've been performing cleansing spell after cleansing spell but they don't seem to be working," Samuel said.  
  
"How do you know that?" Dean asked.  
  
"Because they still hurt!" Sam exclaimed.  
  
"Of course they still hurt and they will continue to do so for some time," Castiel stated calmly. "Until enough of the taint is gone for them to only sting."  
  
"Why is it taking so long?" Samuel questioned.  
  
Bobby winced at that, knowing what was coming. The angel had never really possessed any tact.  
  
"Because of the amount of taint Sam had and still does," Castiel responded bluntly. "He was an abomination."  
  
"I'm not that bad!" Sam protested.  
  
"Oh for!" Dean exclaimed. "You slept with a demon, Sam, and voluntarily drank her blood. Did you really think that wouldn't have any long-term effects other than the blood addiction?"  
  
"In addition to which both your body and soul went to Hell after having been so fully exposed to Lucifer," Castiel added. "All of these things would have left you very tainted on their own, but combined..."  
  
"Whoa, wait, hold on and go back there for a second," Christian interrupted. "Did you just say that he  _slept_  with a demon? Knowingly?"  
  
Bobby could tell the moment Dean realized exactly what his cousin was asking and the boy turned to Sam, furious.  
  
"You told them about what happened to me and what I did in Hell but you neglected to mention Ruby?" Dean exploded.  
  
"It wasn't important," Sam stated.  
  
"Not important?"  
  
"It's over, ancient history and all of that. I learned my lesson and saw no reason to bring it up again."  
  
"But you thought what happened to me was?"  
  
"It changed you, Dean! Ever since you came back you've been different."  
  
"Yeah, I learned that I'm capable of committing great evil and that there's darkness in everyone whether it be you or me or the fucking hottie next door. I learned caution and prudence!"  
  
"No, Dean, you lost your nerve and what made you the hunter that you once were."  
  
He was already halfway out of his seat by the time Castiel appeared between Sam and Dean, and Bobby sighed with relief. As fragile as their relationship was just now he didn't think it would survive a fistfight, not that it was going to survive much longer anyway if Sam didn't keep his mouth shut and learned to think before he spoke. Dean's words about evil and darkness were running around his head, but he pushed them aside for later, there were more important things to deal with now. Like making sure Castiel really did manage to cool Dean down enough because if it came to a fight he had no doubt whatsoever whose side the angel would choose and an ass or not, Sam didn't deserve to get smited.  
  
Whatever Castiel was saying seemed to be working as Dean relaxed incrementally and Bobby dearly wished that he could hear what was being said. He couldn't, however, as the two were standing so close together that there was hardly any space between them and the angel was whispering. Whatever it was, it got Dean to back down though he still stood stiffly and was clearly enraged at his brother. Sam, for his part, looked more annoyed than anything else, though he thought he could detect both contempt and disgust there as well and it made him want to hit the young man himself. Was Sam really so convinced that he could take his brother in a fight? After all of the times that his brother had trumped him in the past?  
  
"I take it Ruby is the demon you slept with, huh, Sam?" Christian sneered, his disgust and contempt now squarely on the other Winchester brother.  
  
"Christian," Sam sighed.  
  
"No, really, I want to know what could possibly make you fuck a demon."  
  
"It was a mistake-"  
  
"I'll say!" Gwen interrupted. "I mean, come on! What were you thinking?"  
  
"They have a point, Sam," Samuel stated.  
  
"Okay, how about you guys all do your sharing and caring later," Dean suggested. "It's a long story and all that jazz."  
  
As if to illustrate his point, Dean waved his hand. There was a flash of silver and before Bobby could react, Samuel was out of his seat, had grabbed Dean's hand and twisted his arm around. Then there was a flash of movement, a cry of pain and the next instant Samuel was pinned to the kitchen wall with an angel sword at his throat and a visibly enraged Raphael in his face. He blinked a few times to make sure that he was really seeing what he was and no sooner had he done that then the controlled pandemonium broke out. Christian, Gwen and Mark were on their feet with their guns drawn and even Sam looked tempted to follow suit though the idjit knew how useless that was when it came to angels. And where the hell had Raphael come from anyway? He knew the archangel hadn't been there a moment before, or at least he hadn't been able to see him. Castiel had already confirmed though that angels were capable of hiding themselves from human perception, which was clearly what had happened here. The question was, had Dean not trusted them or had the archangel acted independently?  
  
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait, everyone calm down," Dean ordered loudly to be heard above the shouts of the others. "Raphael, let him go."  
  
"He attacked you," Raphael snarled.  
  
Shit, any hope that Bobby might have had that this particular angel might be a bit more level-headed went right out of the window with that tone of voice. Was there an angel out there other than Lucifer that Dean couldn't wrap around his little finger if given enough time? Or perhaps that was the real answer to this whole mess, locking Lucifer up with Dean for an extended period of time. He'd almost pity the poor angelic bastard. Almost, though Castiel might get jealous and that thought really shouldn't amuse him as much as it did. Dean had been a bad influence on him, clearly.  
  
"Yeah, I'm not so sure about that," Dean replied and looked down at his wrist where Bobby could now see a silver and decidedly feminine looking bracelet adorned with protective charms. "Let him go, Raph. Please."  
  
Bobby closed his eyes and mentally counted to ten. Raph? Christ but Dean was incorrigible and God only knew how that boy had survived nicknaming not one, not two, but  _three_  archangels and then using those nicknames with at least two of them. It was nothing short of sheer insanity and should have been tantamount to nothing less than suicide. And yet here Dean was, not only hale, whole and happy, but obviously respected enough by said archangels to be listened to, not to mention the fact that the archangels obviously felt protective of the boy.  
  
Only Dean could manage that, Bobby thought with a smile as he looked at the boy. Lord knew the idjit had wormed his way past his defenses long ago, though Dean seemed to be completely clueless as to his abilities in that respect and he couldn't help but wonder how many broken hearts Dean had unknowingly left in his wake. Though given the one that he hadn't broken, he still held out hope that the boy might come to see his own worth. After all, who else managed to make one angel fall in love with him and two archangels completely alter their stance on the Apocalypse?  
  
"Samuel?" Sam asked once Raphael had released the old hunter and stepped back though his sword remained out and ready. "What just happened?"  
  
"The bracelet," Samuel replied, stepping forwards towards Dean despite the fact that the boy was flanked by not one but two angels, neither of which seemed particularly pleased with him.  
  
Perhaps the boy's idiocy had come from both sides of the family and not just John's as Bobby had always assumed.  
  
"That, it's..." Samuel continued before tearing his eyes from the bracelet and looking right at Dean. "That's Mary's, isn't it?"  
  
"Yeah," Dean confirmed.  
  



	99. Chapter 98

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean deals with Michael's revelation and Miniel's news.

**PAST**  
  
  
" _For life?_ " Dean repeated, stunned.  
  
" _Yes, Little One,_ " Michael confirmed.  
  
For life, but for an angel that was... that meant...  
  
Dean's mind balked at the mere thought, not quite able to process or comprehend that. Hell, he already had enough trouble trying to conceive exactly how long ago any of his angels had been created ( _tens of millions_  of years ago! just how was he supposed to wrap his mind around  _that_?), so forget trying to understand what  _life_  meant for them. It was just something he couldn't understand even with his forty years in Hell and multiple short trips to Heaven. They were literally talking eternity here if nothing untoward happened to Castiel. How could the idiot have chosen him given all of that?  
  
" _But... but that's... different for humans and angels,_ " Dean stammered.  
  
" _You are thinking too much in physical terms, the human soul does not die with the body._ "  
  
" _But Heaven compartmentalizes everyone._ "  
  
" _Those thus bonded to angels were considered like soul mates, thereby allowing those of my siblings affected to share their mate's Heaven,_ " Michael explained. " _Now, of course, humans all mingle freely and we are allowed to enter the human portion of Heaven as well so it would be easier now for those mated with humans._ "  
  
He'd been wrong, oh so very wrong, Dean realized with a start. Mate wasn't the angelic equivalent of the human word lover, but rather of husband, or wife as the case may be. Being mated for angels was like being married for humans. There was a flare of panic within him that was made all the worse by the fact that he knew that Michael could sense at least some of his emotions and he immediately tried to smother it, but holy shit his angels saw Castiel and him as married!  
  
It- marriage- was something that had never even crossed Dean's mind, at least not seriously and in relation to him. Not even when he'd been with Cassie and things had been at their best had the thought even occurred to him. That was like... like  _really_  serious and he wasn't husband material. He was a freaking hunter who more often than not put his foot into it when it came to all of that emotional and thoughtfulness crap which that kind of a relationship entailed. And... and...  
  
And, wait, he didn't remember getting angel married, which was extremely odd given how big on consent angels seemed to be. Or at least on a superficial level, though that had changed dramatically as of late.  
  
" _Does it just happen?_ " Dean asked. " _Isn't there, like, some kind of ceremony or whatnot?_ "  
  
" _There are rituals that are usually performed to celebrate the bond, yes,_ " Michael replied. " _But they are not necessary for the pair to be mated just as your marriage is not a precondition to love. The bond itself develops of its own accord._ "  
  
There it was again, that word.  
  
Marriage.  
  
It was kinda amazing how easily just one word could send him into a tailspin but there you go.  
  
" _Dean? Little One, are you okay?_ " Michael inquired.  
  
" _Yeah, just give me a moment here,_ " Dean replied.  
  
Almost desperate now, Dean tried to shove the panic aside. He didn't want Michael to get the wrong idea and mention anything to Castiel. The mere idea of his angel hearing about this and being hurt by it was almost too much to bear. It wasn't about his lover, hell it could never be able Castiel, but rather it was about the word and what it meant. Forever, literally when it came to angels, and that was just too much. It was too long, too-  
  
" _Michael?_ "  
  
The voice echoed through their head and had Dean been in control of his own meatsuit he'd have startled at the suddenness of the intrusion. He hadn't spoken and so that could only mean one thing-  
  
" _Miniel,_ " Michael answered the call.  
  
" _Cas!_ " Dean exclaimed, wishing he could butt into the conversation but knowing he couldn't make it onto angel radio. The archangel could hear him, though, and that would have to be enough. " _Well, ask him!_ "  
  
Michael's response was a flick of Grace against his soul that somehow felt like a cross between being lightly cuffed on the back of his head and getting a fond hearted shove. Dean scowled and deliberately poked the archangel right back.  
  
" _Raphael has asked me to relay Castiel's status to you,_ " Miniel said. " _We have been able to fully heal his vessel as the damage to it was only that of fire to human flesh._ "  
  
The words, though relieving on some level, only made Dean fear even more. Why break the news down into vessel and true form if the information wasn't different? Besides, screw the vessel, it wasn't like Jimmy was still there anyway (if he were then it would be a whole different story!). No, it was just an empty vessel and while it would have caused a whole host of difficulties if Jimmy's meatsuit had been irreparably damaged, they could have dealt with those if Castiel himself were fine.  
  
Just how okay he was with that startled Dean as he knew how hard it would be to see his lover with a new face and body (not to mention the fact that the new vessel might outright refuse to let them interact as they were wont to now and really he wouldn't be able to blame them for that). It should have bothered him more, though, he was human after all and things like a change of the entire outward appearance of one's lover just didn't happen. With one's mate, however, it was obviously a distinct possibility and maybe he was already more okay with that whole concept than he'd realized.  
  
" _And what of Castiel himself, Brother?_ " Michael asked.  
  
" _That has been far more difficult,_ " Miniel replied and Dean wished he had a real lip so that when he bit it he could actually feel the pain of the action instead of the nothingness he got now when he tried futilely to imitate the action in an effort to contain himself. " _The damage, as you know, was quite extensive._ "  
  
Even Dean knew that was an understatement and he didn't even know the first thing of angel anatomy let alone angel medicine or first aid. Well, beyond that which he'd seen and felt Michael perform on his lover, which he figured didn't really count as he'd been far too out of it to take much note of what was being done, let alone how it was done.  
  
" _We have, however, managed to stabilize him and are now working to heal him._ "  
  
Those words at least were a relief.  
  
" _Will he make a complete recovery?_ " Michael asked.  
  
" _We cannot be fully certain of that just yet,_ " Miniel answered. " _The damage to his right wings was particularly significant and gruesome and it will take more time for us to tell the exact extent of it or to determine how well we will be able to heal them._ "  
  
The words had Dean frozen in horror and fear. Castiel's beautiful wings! His beautiful,  _sensitive_  wings!  
  
The horror from before was back and it was nearly overwhelming though now it rapidly turned to rage. Dean would be eternally grateful that he'd been Michael's vessel when the archangel had killed Meg, but he sincerely wished that they'd had more time to deal with her properly. Hell, if it had been up to him and he hadn't had Castiel to worry about, there was no telling what might have happened but he had the sneaking suspicion that he might well have resorted to more than one skill that he'd learned from Alastair while in the pit.  
  
" _When might you know?_ " Michael questioned.  
  
" _It is difficult to tell. Raphael expects us to be busy for another day or two with the initial treatment, after that it will depend on how well Castiel is responding and healing._ "  
  
" _Very well, thank you, Brother._ "  
  
Dean really wanted to ask a few more questions but he managed to keep himself quiet. It sounded like his lover still needed all the help he could get and while Raphael obviously felt that they could do without Miniel for a little bit, he didn't want to risk keeping Castiel a Healer short needlessly. Besides, chances were that he wouldn't fully understand the answers to his questions anyway, so why bother asking? They'd only serve to make himself feel better which he didn't want if it came at the expense of his lover.  
  
" _There is one more thing,_ " Miniel continued and even Dean could hear the hesitancy in his voice.  
  
" _Yes?_ " Michael prompted.  
  
" _Castiel has expressed a desire to recuperate with his mate once it is safe for him to do so._ "  
  
The words had Dean's spirits soaring as well as plummeting at the same time. The fact that his lover was thinking of him even while so severely injured elated him, but it also meant that his absence had been noted and he knew how he'd feel if he woke from something like that and Castiel wasn't by his side when it was clear that he'd been rescued. He could only hope that his angel would understand. As it was Heaven, he had to assume that Castiel would know why he wasn't there, but it was possible that it hadn't occurred to his lover as wounded as he was.  
  
" _His mate would not be averse to that,_ " Michael stated and the ripple of humor Dean caught told him that the archangel knew precisely how much of an understatement that was.  
  
Dean let the slight jibe pass in favor of focusing on the matter at hand. Now that he had some idea of how Castiel was doing and what his lover wanted, he had something to work towards which was exactly what he needed. As far back as he could remember, he'd always hated being helpless and therefore he now leapt at the opportunity to be able to do something. The only issue was that doing so would mean leaving Michael and therefore his only point of contact with his angel.  
  
" _Good, I shall inform Castiel when next he awakes,_ " Miniel replied.  
  
" _Thank you, Brother, and let us know when you have any more information._ "  
  
There was a brief pause from the other end then: " _Us? Oh, you mean your vessel and yourself._ "  
  
" _Yes._ "  
  
" _I will._ "  
  
The words were followed by the sensation that Dean could best describe as the mental equivalent of hanging up the phone and then he had the archangel's full attention once more. Or well as much of it as anything could get while Michael was still on guard duty. Which was another point against his plan, but there were ways around both and he really did need to be doing something just now or he'd go crazy.  
  
" _If you were to move back to Aunt Deirdre would that leave you too vulnerable to Simiel?_ " Dean asked.  
  
" _You wish for me to leave?_ "  
  
There was an undercurrent of hurt in the archangel's tone or at least what Dean was pretty sure what hurt based on his, albeit limited, experience with the true voices of angels and it caught him off-guard. It hadn't been his intention and he hadn't expected his friend to feel so strongly about this. It probably had to do with the fact that the archangel saw no reason for him to leave and every reason to stay so to Michael it probably looked like he wanted to get away from him.  
  
" _If Cas wants to stay with me, then there are things I need to do first before he arrives,_ " Dean explained. " _Not the least of which is to change towns._ "  
  
" _Why?_ "  
  
" _'Cause I just finished a hunt where I am now and I had to impersonate an FBI agent with the cops for it. If they see that I'm still around in a few days, they'll start to get suspicious so I need to move somewhere else where no one knows me. Also, if I'm gonna stay in one place for a while, I should probably also do some grocery shopping and get a place with a kitchen._ "  
  
He  _wasn't_  going to say that he'd gotten far too used to Castiel bringing him awesome food all of the time to really want to go back to solely eating greasy dinner food and takeout all of the time. Really, he wasn't going to say it as that would just make him sound whipped or wimpy and uncool. It was just easier to make something big like lasagna and eat from it for several days. Really it was. And no, he absolutely wasn't thinking of what vegetables he could slip into it that wouldn't really alter the taste any.  
  
Dean sighed as he wondered why he even bothered to try and convince himself otherwise when he knew exactly how much Castiel had changed him and his habits. It was almost the way he imagined a married couple might influence each other.  
  
" _I see,_ " Michael replied, voice clear now of any negative emotions and Dean felt a wave of relief, he really hadn't wanted his friend to think he was trying to get away from him.  
  
Despite all that he'd thought and feared about becoming a vessel, or how much he'd fought it, Dean had come to find that it really wasn't all that bad and this despite what had happened only a few short hours ago. Or at least he thought it had only been a few hours ago, being stuck in his own head tended to mess with his sense of time. There were definitely benefits and perks to the whole deal and he knew that he would miss the connection with his friend if he survived this Apocalypse, not to mention the fact that he could truly feel the bond that existed between himself and his lover when Michael's Grace was wrapped around his soul.  
  
" _You still have the cell phone I gave you, right?_ " Dean checked.  
  
" _Yes._ "  
  
" _And you remember how to use it?_ "  
  
" _Of course._ "  
  
" _Good. Promise to call me if you hear anything else from Miniel or Raphael?_ "  
  
" _Of course, Little One. Go prepare a nest for yourself and your mate._ "  
  
Dean laughed, pretty sure Michael was just teasing him now, though the image that popped into his head was far too amusing for him to mind. Now if only Castiel's wings would heal enough for him to think of them like that without a twinge of dread and horror.  
  



	100. Chapter 99

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean finds a place to hunker down and waits for word on Castiel's condition.

**PAST**  
  
  
Dean smiled in satisfaction when the last of the groceries had been put away and the kitchen was all tidy once more. Well, as tidy as the dingy little thing could get but it was more than enough for what he needed and so he was happy with it. Besides he knew he couldn't really expect too much more from a one bedroom apartment that was rented out by the week so even if getting it had seemed extravagant to what he was used to, he knew it was still considered crap by most standards. Oh well it was relatively clean and private so he was happy. As for the additional costs, well that was why he had a shiny new credit card from the Vatican, right? After all, no way would they complain if they knew he'd gotten it so Castiel could recover in comfort.  
  
Truth be told, Dean was actually rather proud of his find. Given the short notice and the fact that he'd wanted to be somewhere out of the way while still being within relatively short driving distance of stores should he need anything, he'd done really well. And so what if it didn't have all of the amenities that a motel had, it had the essentials and they could do without the rest. Like the TV for instance. Yeah he'd miss it but he had a ton of research to do anyway and any free time he had would be spent with Castiel and his lover had never really gotten into TV. Sure, his angel would watch stuff with him on occasion but more often than not he'd found Castiel's attention wandering with his angel actually taking care of things in Heaven instead of following what was on. At other times his lover would choose to indulge in one of his favorite pastimes, namely Dean watching which was what Castiel did most of the time anyway, TV or no TV.  
  
So, yeah, Dean figured he'd done good. Turning around, he did a quick walkthrough of the rest of the place, the small living room with a table shoved in one corner, a beat-up sofa in another and a wobbly bookshelf between them, the bedroom with the double bed and, importantly, brand new sheets (he'd taken one look at what was left behind and even he knew that new ones were needed) and finally the bathroom which had a surprisingly large shower. It had been one of the other selling points of this place for him. He knew that once Castiel was feeling a bit better, his lover would love the enlarged place to indulge his little water kink. Surprisingly the reminder and the thought of all that they'd gotten up to in countless shower stalls across the country (and the occasional bath or two when a room had happened to come with one) didn't send a spike of arousal through him as it normally did.  
  
No, instead Dean felt a pang of fear as he thought of his angel and the condition in which they'd found Castiel and how gruesome those wounds had been. It was nearly enough to make him physically ill and as it was he had to force himself not to start hyperventilating. Cas would be fine, he'd heard Miniel's report himself, his lover was in no more danger. Yeah, he knew that things might not all work out, but the most essential part he was already sure of, the rest they could deal with if necessary. Inevitably his thoughts veered towards what it would do to Castiel if his wings never fully recovered and he tried to shove the thought aside. He knew what such a handicap would do to him and it wasn't something he ever wanted his lover to have to experience. Castiel was an  _angel_ \- no, an archangel now- and thus shouldn't have to deal with that stuff.  
  
Dean laughed without humor as he thought back to what he'd used to think of angels. General knowledge seemed to think them invincible and God but how he wished that were true just now. Their damn near invulnerability had lulled him into a false sense of security as far as anything but Lucifer and the other fallen angels were concerned and therefore this had hit him far harder than it otherwise might have. But damn had that false sense of security felt good. It was almost enough to make him understand how and why some people they came across who'd seen enough to know what was out there still somehow managed to convince themselves that it hadn't been real; that they'd imagined it somehow or been given a hallucinogenic. It was a nice and safe way to handle things.  
  
For the first time in his life, Dean actually felt the urge to pray. Too bad he already knew what a douche and deadbeat God really was, otherwise he might actually have given into it. Unfortunately he did and thus he shoved the stupid desire aside in favor of far more useful and productive things. Wandering back to the living room, he finished out his cell and dropped onto the couch. He hit speed dial number two and waited.  
  
And waited and waited. Dean had just pulled the phone from his ear to frown at it and wonder if something had happened when the ringing stopped and he heard a tiny voice through the speaker.  
  
"Heya, Mike, everything okay there?" Dean asked.  
  
"Yes, Dean."  
  
"You sure? You kinda took a while to answer."  
  
"I had to retrieve the phone from my pocket."  
  
Was it just him or did the archangel sound somewhat uncomfortable? The thought made Dean smile as he realized that it probably wasn't often that Michael didn't know how to do something. God, it turned out, had not thought it necessary to endow his angels with the knowledge of how to operate modern technology. Combined with The Man's lack of foresight when it came to driving skills, he was beginning to seriously question God's supposed and much-touted all-knowingness. Clearly He had forgotten some key things when creating His angels. Though he supposed if he was going to think about it like that, then those were some of the least of God's mistakes with Lucifer ranking right up there as number one followed by others like Simiel, Uriel and Zachariah to name only a few.  
  
"Have you heard any more from Miniel or Raphael?" Dean questioned.  
  
"No, Little One. I promise to let you know as soon as I know more," Michael replied patiently. "Have you found yourself a nest?"  
  
"You're a ball of laughs, Michael."  
  
"I do not understand this description, it does not make any logical sense."  
  
Dean chuckled. "It's an expression."  
  
"Why do humans so often create and use expressions that do not actually describe what they are meant to convey?"  
  
"I don't know, you're asking the wrong person."  
  
There was a moment of silence that Dean found surprisingly easy and it made him wonder just how used to angelic quirks he'd grown. Humans would never normally allow this much time to pass without speaking, not while on the phone anyway. Not that he cared now that the Vatican was footing the bill. He pouted at the reminder of the conversation where Castiel had told him to stop charging his phone bill to strangers. Between his angel and those priests they were wrecking all of his fun. He'd been damn good at the credit card fraud and cell phone bill evasion even if he did say so himself. Doing things the legal way was just no fun, plus it meant that he'd actually have to clean up this place before he went instead of simply leaving all of the salt and devil's traps he'd put out and up. Not to mention the fact that he planned on painting at least one angel banishment sigil on the wall, just in case he had any unexpected company when none of his angels were around. Perhaps he should leave the cleanup to Castiel what with it being his lover who wanted him to use his own name and Vatican money for renting things and all.  
  
"I dislike not being able to see you when I am speaking with you," Michael finally stated.  
  
The words startled a laugh out of Dean and he could only imagine the archangel's displeased frown but it was more than enough. Was that why all of his archangels had avoided using the phones he'd given them as much as possible? Even Castiel had never been very happy with using it and still wasn't despite all of the practice his lover had had with it now.  
  
"Yeah, well, there's no helping that just now," Dean answered. "Look, I just called to say that I'm at forty-five Lilac Court about a hundred miles east of where I was before, okay?"  
  
"This is where you'll stay?"  
  
"Yep, it's an apartment that's got everything we need for Cas to be here a while and I'm going to make sure to keep a low profile."  
  
"You will not hunt?"  
  
"I won't look for any hunts but if I happen to hear about something then I'll probably deal with it. I just don't want to draw any attention to myself or do anything that'll mean I have to leave. I'll just buckle down and do research instead."  
  
Dean wondered if Michael could hear the resignation in his voice. It definitely wasn't something he was looking forward to, but it was both necessary and the best thing to do at the present.  
  
"Very well."  
  


* * *

  
  
Dean had gotten through more books than he cared to think about before anything happened, but when it did, it sure happened fast. He'd resigned himself to another day of nothing but research and had just been contemplating going out for dinner that evening when Michael had called to let him know that Raphael had given his approval for Castiel to come back down to Earth to finish recuperating. The news had sent him over the moon even if he'd immediately started worrying about whether everything would be good enough for his lover and if perhaps it wasn't better if Castiel remained in Heaven where he could receive expert, round the clock care. But then he'd tried to reason with that part of himself, telling it that Raphael owed him no favors and wouldn't risk his brother's life just to please him. So it had to be okay for his angel to be here.  
  
It had to be.  
  
He'd done a final sweep of the room, checking and rechecking all of the salt lines and wards before trying to think of anything he might need to run out to the store to get and that had been the point at which Dean realized just how ridiculous he was being. This was Castiel they were talking about here and not just another human. His lover wouldn't need any food or anything so materialistic and even if he did, he doubted Raphael would leave it up to him to get it. Not when Heaven could undoubtedly provide far better versions of it with a mere thought.  
  
Then, suddenly, Raphael and Castiel were there and Dean had found himself frozen to the spot. In his head he'd pictured himself rushing forwards the moment the two archangels appeared, instantly helping his lover and glorying in the feel of him, alive and recovering. Instead he found himself rooted to the spot, completely unable to move or do anything more than stare. Castiel looked good, far better than the last time he'd seen him in fact though that wasn't saying too much in and of itself based on how horribly wounded his angel had been. But Miniel had been right, Castiel's vessel had been completely restored and there wasn't a single thing to indicate that it had ever been otherwise. His lover's wings however were a completely different story.  
  
Just one look was enough to nearly turn Dean's stomach but he managed to fight it down. The left wings weren't too bad and only had the odd patch or two with missing feathers. The skin underneath was red and inflamed, but overall it wasn't too bad. The right wings though were what captured and held his attention and horrified fascination. They were a mess with what looked like still healing lacerations and wounds that were still obviously burn marks. He wondered again if it was a good idea for Castiel to be here on Earth instead of with the Healers in Heaven and though he wanted nothing more than to grab his angel and never let him go again, he knew that he'd let him go if it were in his lover's best interest.  
  
"Dean."  
  
That one word was enough to cut straight through Dean's unexpected paralysis and the next thing he knew he was at his lover's side, his complete attention focused solely on the angel before him. "Cas."  
  
The arm that Castiel didn't have slung across his brother's shoulders reached out for him and Dean stepped closer, letting his lover touch him without reaching or straining himself. It was pure bliss and his own hand came up to press Castiel's more tightly against his face and it was all that he could do not to crush his angel to him. The only thing that held him back was the knowledge that he might hurt his lover if he did so and instead he locked his gaze to that of Castiel and hoped that his eyes conveyed all that he felt as his voice had abandoned him as it was wont to do in times of extreme emotional overload.  
  
"We should get him on the bed," Raphael said an indeterminate amount of time later though it took a few moments for the meaning of the words to penetrate and a few more for Dean to tear his eyes away from his lover.  
  
"Huh?" Dean said.  
  
"Castiel needs to rest in order to continue recuperating."  
  
"Oh! Right."  
  
The words spurred Dean into action and he managed to tear himself away enough so that he turned to face the bed. Since he'd assumed that he'd have a bit more warning of his lover's arrival, he hadn't exactly made the bed that morning so it took little work to pull the sheet and blanket aside so that Raphael could ease Castiel onto the mattress.  
  
"I thought he was doing better," Dean said, not liking how little Castiel moved beyond turning his head so that his lover could continue to stare at him.  
  
"He is," Raphael replied.  
  
"He doesn't look it."  
  
"Castiel has recovered enough to start actively healing himself but it is taking a lot of energy, hence the reason he is conserving it in all other areas."  
  
Damn but if that didn't make Dean feel guilty he didn't know what would. The desire to be selfish and keep his mouth shut rose within him with surprising strength, enough to startle him, but he pushed it down, knowing that he couldn't just let it go.  
  
"Wouldn't... wouldn't it then be better for him to stay in Heaven?" Dean forced out. "I mean if everything is still taxing him so much? Surely being in a vessel can't be helping that any?"  
  
The look Raphael gave him was part startled, part assessing and part something that Dean couldn't quite make out. He might have been able to figure it out if he'd had more time to think about it, but just then Castiel said his name again and all of his attention was instantly diverted.  
  
"I'm here," Dean reassured his lover, dropping to his knees beside the bed to bring himself level with Castiel's head so his angel didn't need to strain to see him. "I'm right here, shh."  
  
Just the simple ability to reach out and touch his lover without the possibility of hurting him was such a relief to Dean that he sagged forwards against the bed while running his fingers through Castiel's soft hair. His angel made a contented sound and reached out to curl the fingers of one hand loosely in his clothing. He completely lost track of what Raphael was doing until the archangel settled himself on the bed beside Castiel and his lover's face twisted in an anticipatory grimace as if knowing what was coming and that it would hurt. His lover was proven right when Raphael's hands reached out and gently pulled one of the injured wings towards himself and started doing something to it.  
  
The way Castiel's fingers spasmed tighter around his clothing and the small, pained noises his lover made nearly had Dean leaping onto the bed to tackle Raphael away from his angel. Only the knowledge that the archangel was actually  _helping_  stilled the impulse. He managed to just soothe Castiel for a few moments before the situation got the better of him. He was not used to being the idle one when someone he loved was hurt and being taken care of. It was one of the reasons why he'd taken to the first aid training his father had given him so well despite the fact that it didn't involve killing anything supernatural, as he couldn't stand to be unable to do anything to help.  
  
"Can I help?" Dean asked.  
  
Raphael paused in his ministrations and turned to give him another assessing look. The impulse to say something smartass rose within him as it always did in these circumstances as he absolutely hated to be judged, but Dean shoved it down ruthlessly. Even he knew that this was neither the time nor the place for that and he desperately wanted the archangel to see how serious he was about this as right now being able to help Castiel meant more to him than anything else. Hell he'd  _beg_  if that was what it took to be of use to his lover.  
  
Finally Raphael nodded once before indicating the bed right in front of him. "Come here and I will show you what to do."  
  
Dean all but scrambled to his feet though he took the time to wait until Castiel had released his grip on his shirt so as not to jar his angel. Carefully he climbed onto the bed beside the two archangels where he thought he'd have a good view of what Raphael did.  
  
"I said over here," Raphael stated, indicating a spot just before him.  
  
"I can see from here," Dean replied with a slight frown.  
  
He knew that angels lacked almost all concept of personal space, but it had never really been an issue with Raphael before as the archangel had always seemed more inclined to avoid any contact with him rather than anything else. So therefore he was a littl-  
  
Dean yelped as Raphael reached out and literally  _picked him up_  like he was nothing more than a rag doll or a small child and plopped him down on the bed right in front of him. Then, before he could so much as utter a protest, the archangel was leaning forward and he was surrounded, a chest pressed up against his back, arms over his own arms and hands covering his so that Raphael could control every move he made.  
  
"Dude, what the hell?" Dean finally squawked in protest, voice far higher than he liked to acknowledge.  
  
"Hush and pay attention," Raphael stated simply.  
  
The command was so much like that which one might give to a small child that Dean bristled instinctively but the archangel, if he noticed, paid it no heed, guiding his fingers down to the base of Castiel's wings where some of his oil glands were.  
  
"First you coat your fingers liberally with oil," Raphael instructed, squeezing his fingers so they milked the gland. "If you are not sure how much to use it is better to take too much rather than too little. Then you choose one of the injuries to start with."  
  
Either Castiel could sense his nervousness or his lover simply wanted him to start with one of the less serious wounds, but Castiel unfurled one of his left wings and angled it back towards them so Dean could reach one of the stray injuries there. At the same time his angel reached back with a hand and rested it on his thigh, squeezing it reassuringly. And that was just totally wrong but so Castiel to always be worried about him even when it was his lover who was the one that was injured.  
  
"Now you coat it with oil and then rub it in," Raphael continued before making a disapproving sound and pressing down more firmly on his fingers. "No, you need to press harder."  
  
"Won't that hurt him?" Dean resisted but was no match for the archangel's superior strength.  
  
"He is not human and it would cause more damage if the wound was not properly oiled than you could by exerting too much strength."  
  
Oh, right, angel. Dean swallowed once and steeled himself before pressing down harder, though he kept a careful ear out for any increase in the sounds of pain or discomfort from his lover. It wasn't until he was doing it, fingers running gently but firmly over his lover's wings and something calmed within him that he realized what else had motivated his request to help: jealousy. Castiel was  _his_  lover and he knew how strongly angels felt about their wings and so to see another reaching out and touching what was his had bothered him on a deep emotional level even though logically he knew Raphael was only doing his job and helping Castiel.  
  
And dammit, but if he smelled like Raphael after this then he was going to whip the archangel's sorry ass.


	101. Chapter 100

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that the immediate danger has passed, events catch up with Dean.

**PAST**  
  
  
Dean closed the book he was reading, unable to take any more of it just now. As it was his nightmares were growing progressively worse, both the ones where he seemed to be an angel trying desperately to get somewhere even though he already knew that it was too late as well as the ones of his own invention about what the future might hold. Those latter ones had really taken off with Lucifer's escape from the cage nearly two weeks ago despite the fact that the devil had yet to do anything visible. In all probability Lucifer and Simiel were far too busy trying desperately to break the Rite of Contressa to even think about doing anything else, but that didn't stop him from imagining what they could do if they succeeded.  
  
No, not if,  _when_  they succeeded as Dean knew it was only a matter of time. The Rite of Contressa had only ever been a temporary measure, used to buy them time and he'd always known that. As such it had functioned beautifully as it had delayed Lucifer's escape from the cage from late January until mid-April, he just wished that it could have been a far more permanent solution. For one of the first times, he felt the urge to drink rise within him as they seemed to hit failure after failure after failure on the research front. Almost all of his time not spent with Castiel these past few weeks had been dedicated to research and he pretty much had jack squat to show for it all except ever more accurate nightmares.  
  
This was precisely the type of situation that had led him to drink before and Dean was only all too aware of how easy it would be to relapse. He really should have known that this would happen sooner or later as kicking the habit initially had been far too easy. Not wanting to risk a relapse and thereby disappointing his lover, he'd dumped all the beer he'd bought down the drain and had resisted buying any more or anything else alcoholic. It had meant that the lasagna he'd made had tasted different as he'd taken to putting beer in the mince ever since seeing his father do it once, but that was something he could live with. Failing his lover was not.  
  
Since it had helped the past few times, Dean pushed himself up and made his way to the apartment's bedroom. Although Castiel was doing far better, his lover still wasn't fully recovered and he'd found that just watching him helped to quell any urges he had to drink. He leaned against the doorframe and, not for the first time, thought of how he could now understand his angel's fascination with watching him sleep. Although Castiel wasn't sleeping exactly, his lover was in a deep meditative and healing trance that made it look for all intents and purposes like his angel was asleep. As before, it made him smile a little before his eyes drifted to Castiel's right set of wings and he frowned.  
  
Dean had been ecstatic when the burned patches of wing tissue had shown signs of getting ready to grow new feathers and he and Castiel had celebrated it as best as his lover could. Some of the elation had faded, however, when the actual feathers had started appearing and they weren't black but rather a silvery color. He hadn't thought too much of it as he still found them beautiful and Raphael had assured him that they'd be as functional as normal feathers, but Castiel had hated them. His angel had taken an instant aversion to them and said that they were disfiguring and hideous. It had taken him ages to convince his lover that he still loved them and actually found them beautiful. Even now Castiel only barely seemed able to tolerate them and he thought that probably had a lot to do with the fact that angels were rarely injured severely enough to scar. As such he was less pleased with the feathers but otherwise he still loved them, finding the silver a striking contrast to the black.  
  
His smile returned as Dean recalled how he'd made Castiel writhe and moan helplessly beneath him when he'd spent over an hour a few days ago lavishing each and every injured spot with copious amounts of attention. Apparently new ingrowing feathers were particularly sensitive, who knew? But once he did, he'd taken full advantage of it. Now he just stood there, enjoying the burn of being half hard in his jeans as his mind wandered back over that day. Though his dick protested the idea, the rest of him felt no particular urgency to follow through on the thought. He'd had a long make-out session with his angel earlier in the day that had ended with messy hand jobs and the contentment from that still clung to him now that he was focused on his lover instead of on the futile research.  
  
Inevitably his mind started to wander and Dean sighed and wondered what on Earth he'd been thinking when he'd gone to Lisa after the events of Stull Cemetery. How had he allowed himself to get so turned around about what it was that he truly wanted? He'd never aspired to being normal, had actually revelled in being different, so he wasn't really sure how he'd ended up thinking he craved a normal, apple pie life. This, right here, made him far happier than he'd ever been with Lisa and Ben or than he ever thought he could have been even if everything had gone right. Although these past few years had been so full of frustration, pressure and so much unhappiness, hunting was not only in his blood, but it was  _who_  he was. It was his life. Despite everything, he could still think back on all of those years and countless hunts from before this Apocalypse crap with fondness. He really did love to save people and hunt things. Not only did it give him a purpose, but it made him genuinely happy to know that he'd saved people and prevented more from becoming victims by taking out all kinds of monsters.  
  
Plus Dean found it very telling that he'd found someone he truly loved with all that he was while being himself instead of while trying to deny who and what he was. If he pretended for a moment that things had worked out between him and Lisa what would have happened when something supernatural had cropped up? It would sooner or later, that was just inevitable, the only thing he didn't know was if it would have been something from his past or something new. He imagined that Lisa would have been more forgiving of the former as he'd have had no control over it, but what if it had been the latter? Though he might not have been actively looking for hunts, he knew that he wouldn't have been able to stand by and do nothing if he stumbled across something by accident. It just wasn't in him to do so and once he'd taken care of that he suspected that he might have gone looking for another and another and so on. And that was where he would have lost Lisa.  
  
The way that things had worked out made it easier for Dean to think back on all that Lisa had said when kicking him out and he knew that she'd have never tolerated him hunting while living with her and Ben so it was probably better that things had gone south sooner rather than later when he'd have been even more invested than he'd already been. That still hurt to think of even as he continued to look at Castiel. He wouldn't give up his lover for anything, but the memory of the old rejection still stung. He kicked off his shoes and stripped down to his boxers before crawling onto the bed, needing to be close to Castiel all of a sudden. He chose the right side of the bed so he could push his angel's wings through the mattress and curl himself around his lover.  
  
"Shh," Dean hushed when Castiel stirred. "It's okay, it's all okay, Cas."  
  
His angel stilled once more and Dean was glad for it, not wanting to have pulled Castiel out of a healing cycle prematurely. He had no doubt that his lover would fully wake as soon as it was done- Castiel had always been preternaturally aware of his moods and had always felt the need to soothe any distress he had- but there was nothing he could do about that. But for now he just clutched his lover close, safe in the knowledge that he couldn't do so hard enough to so much as bruise without his angel's desire for it.  
  
He could have lost Castiel.  
  
The realization hit Dean hard once more.  
  
 _He could have lost Castiel._  
  
Unlike before when he'd always been able to shove the thought aside in order to focus on aiding his lover, Dean found himself unable to do that now. Maybe it was because of his previous dark thoughts or maybe it was because of the fact that Castiel was now completely out of harm's way, but either way he suddenly found himself swamped with the knowledge that he could have lost his lover. It left him clinging to Castiel so hard that any normal human would have been bruised and shaking. After everything that had already happened to him in his life and everyone that he'd already lost, he didn't think that he could handle losing Castiel of all people, not after everything that had happened between them and everything that his angel meant to him.  
  
His angel, his lover. His mate?  
  
Everything that Michael had told him the word mate meant to angels came flooding back to Dean and all of his own worries and fears regarding the topic suddenly felt insignificant compared to the sheer terror he felt now. Forever sounded like a wonderful thing even if he didn't think that angels got a second chance like humans did with Heaven. But what if the next time it was him and he wasn't so lucky? And what about if he died after this whole thing was over and they'd won somehow? The angels couldn't keep bringing him back and if Castiel was right about where he'd end up then he'd much rather have the real deal than some memory of his lover looped on repeat for the rest of eternity. He wanted  _Castiel_  there with him in whatever form that might be. The fact that it would almost certainly be his lover's true form didn't matter even though he had no idea what that looked like. So long as it was  _Cas_ -  _his_  Cas- he didn't care. He'd grow used to the six faces, might even grow to love them if they came out at all times his angel lost control as he was definitely planning on making Castiel lose control, Heaven or not.  
  
But what if he wasn't the one to die? What if it was his lover? Would Castiel be gone forever like Gabriel and Zachariah? Was there anything he could do about that?  
  
 _He had almost lost Castiel._  
  
Dean released a pathetic little noise and turned to bury his face in the feathers of his lover's left wings that had come back up to cradle him, curving around him where he lay. Since Castiel hadn't fully regained consciousness he knew it had to be an unconscious gesture and right now he was grateful for it, rubbing his face back and forth in the silky feathers and inhaling his angel's scent.  
  
 _His_  angel.  _His._  
  
"Dean?" Castiel inquired softly.  
  
Dean pulled back enough so he was looking down at Castiel and he found why his lover loved him all sleep mused, it was an adorable look. Castiel also seemed far more vulnerable than normal which caused another surge of possessiveness to course through him.  
  
"Mine," Dean proclaimed before leaning down to capture his lover's lips.  
  
It was a fierce, biting kiss and Dean could tell he'd caught Castiel off-guard but his lover quickly responded, Castiel's tongue coming up tangle with his when he trust it into his angel's mouth. There was a brief fight for dominance before Castiel gave way, allowing him full control. The act sparked something within him- the knowledge that his lover chose to do that- and he rolled on top of Castiel, straddling his angel's hips.  
  
When Dean finally pulled back to breathe, he could feel that his lips were kiss bruised and found that Castiel's were too. It thrilled him whenever his lover pulled back enough for his marks to stay and now was no different. He dove right back in for another possessive kiss but made a noise of dissatisfaction when he felt arms wrap around him. Not now, not this time. No, this time was his and he'd nearly lost Castiel. It had been so close, so very close. What if he'd waited even longer before calling Michael? What if he'd talked himself into thinking that his angel was alright? What would have happened then? Would Castiel have survived?  
  
He pulled back and rolled to the side of the bed so he could reach the chair on which he'd placed Castiel's folded clothes.  
  
"Dean?" Castiel questioned, leaning up to watch him.  
  
"You'll see," Dean replied, pushing his lover back down once he had what he needed.  
  
Dean straddled his angel's hips once more before capturing one of the hands that automatically came up to land on his hips. He wrapped the length of the blue tie around the wrist before capturing Castiel's other hand and doing the same. His angel gave him a confused look as he tied the two hands together but it cleared when he leaned forward and placed Castiel's bound wrists above his head on the pillow.  
  
"Stay," Dean ordered, pushing at the wrists once and looking right into his lover's eyes.  
  
Castiel stared back at him, wide-eyed but his angel nodded once to show that he understood. Dean had noticed his lover's throat working soundlessly and he liked the idea of having rendered his angel speechless. He claimed another dominating kiss, rubbing his whole body along the one beneath his and swallowed Castiel's resulting moan. He could feel each and every shift in the muscles of his lover's arms as his hands were still clamped on the bound wrists. He liked the feel of being draped so completely over Castiel, using the muscles in his thighs from where they were clamped on either side of his angel's hips to undulate himself along his lover's body.  
  
Dean kept them like that for a while, biting and sucking at Castiel's mouth while he felt his lover harden against him through the layers still separating them.  
  
"Dean, please!" Castiel begged when he next pulled back for air, unable to draw in enough through his nose for the way his pulse had increased. "Please, more."  
  
The way his lover moved beneath him made Dean moan and he dropped his head onto one of Castiel's shoulders, savoring the feel of it and the arousal singing through his veins. He wanted this to last forever, to always remain just like this, only him and Castiel. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of his angel's throat and it was perfect except for the fact that it was bare. Bare of his mark. He instantly latched onto it, sucking and nibbling for all that he was worth.  
  
"Dean!" Castiel cried out, arching against him.  
  
Dean reached down with one hand to push his lover's hips back down onto the bed so that he was the only one moving, rubbing their cocks together through three layers of fabric. It made Castiel mewl and he smiled as he felt the throat move beneath his mouth, his other hand keeping it right where he wanted it.  
  
"Dean, Dean, Dean, Dean," Castiel moaned, wings trembling but remaining where they were.  
  
"Mine," Dean declared darkly, possessively, as he pulled away.  
  
"Yours," Castiel confirmed easily. "All yours."  
  
"All mine."  
  
The dark bruise was made all the more visible due to his lover's pale skin and Dean admired it for a moment before the need urged him on and he moved down his angel's body. At waist level he pulled at the drawstring of the sleep pants he'd gotten Castiel- no way was he going to start guessing sizes!- and then slipped his fingers under the waistband of both it and the boxers, pulling them down in one smooth movement. He licked his lips as his lover's cock rose proud and free and he quickly pulled off the clothes completely.  
  
Once free of his own boxers, Dean took a moment to just look at his lover. Castiel lay spread out before him, hands bound above his head, cock hard and leaking, a dark hickey at the base of his throat, lust-blown eyes and wings spread wide and submissively across the bed. The sight was nearly enough to make him come and he didn't resist the urge to  _take and claim_ , covering his lover's body with his own. He rocked their erections together once more even as he reached around to milk Castiel's oil glands. His lover moaned and he wondered not for the first time what this felt like, it was something he couldn't really imagine.  
  
Dean quickly prepared Castiel, using only as much oil and stretching as was necessary before he pushed inside, unable to wait any longer. The tight heat made him moan as he bottomed out and he bit his lover's shoulder, making Castiel mewl and rock against him. Most of the fear was gone now but there was enough of it left to have him thrusting hard and fast, setting a punishing pace though his angel didn't seem to mind from the sounds Castiel made and the way his lover writhed beneath him.  
  
All too soon Dean could feel that Castiel was close, oh so very close to coming, and he finally reached out for his angel's right set of wings. Right for a patch of silvery new feathers and he  _gently_  ran his fingers through them, knowing how incredibly sensitive they were just now. Then his lover was coming with a cry, spilling between them even as Castiel's inner walls tightened wonderfully around him, trying to milk his own release from him but he held on, snatching his hand away from the delicate wings so he could clutch at his angel instead and not have to worry about hurting him.  
  
"Mine, mine, mine, mine," Dean continued to declare.  
  
The way Castiel's passage continued to clench around his cock was nearly too much and combined with the sight of the red marks he'd left on his lover's skin and the submissive way his wings lay spread out beneath Castiel, completely open and accessible for anything he might want to do with them, it overwhelmed him and he thrust hard twice more before he came as deep inside his angel as he could while also biting down at the base of Castiel's throat.  
  
Dean collapsed on his lover after slipping free from him and he hummed in approval as Castiel's arms and wings wrapped around him. He simply lay there for a while, enjoying the post orgasmic bliss and the feel of his angel so close.  
  
"Are you alright?" Castiel eventually inquired, fingers running through his hair in the way that he loved.  
  
"Yeah, I just... needed that, I guess," Dean replied, not wanting to think too closely on it. "How about you, are you doing okay?"  
  
"The feathers should be fully in soon."  
  
"Good."  
  
They fell into a comfortable silence and it wasn't long before Dean detected the subtle shift in Castiel that indicated that his lover had slipped into the meditative state in which his angel healed best. He waited long enough to ensure that he wouldn't disturb Castiel before slipping free of his lover's hold and grabbing his boxers and Castiel's pajama bottoms. Once they were on, he walked through the apartment and out the front door.  
  
"Hey, Mike, do you have a moment?" Dean asked before he lost the courage and conviction from earlier. "I've got some questions about what you said before, about mates and those rituals you mentioned."  
  
There was no immediate reply and after a few minutes, Dean figured that Michael was too busy with something else to show just now and he stepped back inside, the cool night air bringing goosebumps to his bare arms and chest. Just as he was closing the door there was the flutter of wings behind him and he turned to greet his friend only to find an empty room.  
  
Dean frowned as he looked around but then groaned as he saw a new book lying on the table. Great, yet  _another_  book. He was gonna have to hand in his cool badge soon if this kept up and swap it in for a freaking library card or some such shit.  
  
"Thanks, Mike," Dean muttered, wishing he could have picked the archangel's brain directly but then realized he might have felt awkward doing so.  
  
This was the angelic equivalent of marriage after all and Dean definitely wouldn't have wanted any of Sam's prospective brides to have come ask him about human wedding customs. Not that he was the bride in this situation, but still, the principle remained the same. So the book it would have to be.  
  
The things he did for Castiel.


	102. Chapter 101

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hunt doesn't go as expected.

**PAST**  
  
  
The house was silent when Dean entered it, but he didn't let that fool him and instead he carefully made his way through it, room by room, taking care to check each one thoroughly before moving on to the next. Since he was alone, he didn't want to give them any chance to sneak up behind him. Not that it was normally in the nature of changelings to do that but he was taking no chances what with all of the unusual occurrences and behavior he'd seen as of late. Who knew what any creature might do these days?  
  
Dean frowned when he finished checking the last room on the first floor and still hadn't found a single thing. He knew for certain that the changelings were using this house as he'd seen them entering it so where were they and why had he yet to hear anything from them? Quietly making his way back to the stairs, he tried to decide whether to go upstairs first or to try his luck with the basement. Both were viable options. The fact that the basement door stood ajar made him weary for a trap but it was also possible that they'd simply been careless in closing it.  
  
Briefly Dean debated his options before deciding to try his luck with the basement first. It would also be the most likely place for the kids to be held as there was less chance of them being seen so even if the changelings themselves weren't there, at least he'd be able to let the kids out. The memory of the last time he'd dealt with a nest of changelings rose to the top of his mind as it had so often since he'd first realized exactly what it was that he was up against here but he shoved it aside. He couldn't afford to think of that as it would only serve to get himself and the kids killed.  
  
Lady luck seemed to be on Dean's side for once as there was enough light creeping into the basement from the few small windows for him to see what he was walking into. And what a sight it was. There, lying in the middle of the room in a large puddle of blood, were the corpses of all ten changelings that he'd identified along with two others that he hadn't. They were all torn apart with blood and gore painting the walls, ceiling and windows, turning the room into a scene right out of a horror flick.  
  
Dean stood frozen in place on the steps as he stared at the scene in shock. This was the last thing that he'd expected to find and he couldn't quite figure out what had happened here. He hadn't seen anything else enter the house while he'd been watching it and he knew that it couldn't be another hunter that had slipped past his guard either. Another hunter would have known to torch the bodies in order to prevent them from regenerating. Though he wasn't sure if these ones would be able to do so, not that he'd take the chance. Only now instead of just torching the changeling mother, he'd have to ensure that the whole basement when up in flames as there was no other way to be sure that he got all parts of the mother.  
  
None of which told Dean who or what had done this in the first place so he took extra care while descending the last few steps. He cursed at just how much of the street light was getting in through the windows as that meant he was that much more exposed to the outside and that it would be harder to get away undetected after he'd started the fire. At least he was on the opposite end of the state from his apartment, but it was something he had to start thinking about now which had never been an issue before.  
  
Once he'd checked the room to his satisfaction, Dean turned his attention to the two doors leading off of it. The first turned out to be nothing more than the door to the washing room which was quickly checked and cleared. The second, however, lead to a small room filled with dog cages, each of which held a small child. Eleven pairs of terrified eyes looked towards him and he was relieved to see that the worst injuries he could spot were some bruises and a split lip.  
  
"Hey, guys," Dean said after he'd checked the rest of the room. "Are you all okay?"  
  
"Who are you?" one of the boys asked.  
  
"I'm a friend and I'm here to get you out. Did they leave the keys anywhere down here?"  
  
"Over there," a girl replied, pointing.  
  
Dean gave a quick sigh of relief that he wouldn't have to pick each and every lock and instead opened the first one and had the kid start to unlock the others. At first he'd feared that he'd have to take the kids out the way he'd come, through the bloodbath and thereby scarring them for life, but then he'd caught sight of the doors to the backyard at the far end of the room. He turned his attention to this while the first kid he'd freed got the others out of their cages. The doors were padlocked together and unlike the cages he couldn't immediately spot a key. Oh well, he'd just have to pick the lock. Part of him wanted to shoot the lock but the younger kids already looked close to tears and the last thing he wanted was to set them off for real. Actually no, that was the second to last thing he wanted, the last thing he wanted was to hit one of them with a ricochet.  
  
"Can we go?" the girl from before asked.  
  
Dean looked over to see most of the kids free and crowding towards the door he'd entered by and which he'd thankfully remembered to close. "No, just wait a moment, sweetheart, this way will be faster." Just a few seconds later he felt the lock give and he quickly undid it and flung open the doors. "There you go."  
  
The kids seemed to hesitate for a moment, as if unable to believe that they were really free, but then the first scrambled for the door and the others quickly followed.  
  
"Whoa, whoa, careful, you'll all get out," Dean cautioned, torn between taking them to the neighbors and staying to take care of the mother changeling.  
  
He knew that he really shouldn't leave the corpses for any longer than absolutely necessary, but it still didn't feel quite right letting the kids go out on their own like this even if help wasn't far away. A tugging at his jeans made Dean look down and he found a really cute little redheaded girl standing there.  
  
"Thank you," she said.  
  
"Your welcome, honey," Dean replied with a smile, crouching down to be at her level. "But you'd better go with the others now, I'm sure your parents are missing you."  
  
The girl looked outside before giving him a quick hug. It was over even before Dean realized what had happened but it made him smile even more as he watched her race off after the others.  
  
"Aw, now wasn't that just so cute you could be sick?"  
  
The voice had Dean whirling around and bringing the flamethrower he held up and ready even as he knew that it wasn't the right weapon for there, standing in the middle of the room, stood Crowley.  
  
"Bravo, mate," the demon continued, clapping. "Aren't you just the hero of the moment?"  
  
"Crowley," Dean growled, hands tightening around the flamethrower. It might not be salt or Holy water, but it would still cause the demon a world of pain. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"Me? Why helping you, of course. Didn't you like my gift in the other room?"  
  
"That was you? But how-" Dean began but then his breath caught in his throat and he felt ice flood him as he realized the answer. "Hellhound."  
  
"Yes, I had my boy take care of them for you."  
  
The amount of adrenaline that was being dumped into his system nearly made Dean ill but also hyper alert and his ears strained for any sound that might give away the beast's location. He was pretty sure that a flamethrower would be useless against a hellhound, but he was definitely going to try and use it. That and he always had the Jewel of Abel on him these days and it wouldn't hurt to at least try using it. Hey, it had struck down an archangel, right, so why not a hellhound?  
  
"Relax, mate, I'm not here to kill you," Crowley stated. "You're not worth the trouble it's taken to track you down just for that."  
  
"Yeah? Then where is it?"  
  
" _He_  is back home."  
  
Since he couldn't find any evidence to the contrary, Dean figured that Crowley was speaking the truth, for the moment at least. Well that and if the demon had really wanted him dead, he would have let the hellhound loose on him by now.  
  
"Why did you kill the changelings?" Dean demanded.  
  
"Because I knew that you wouldn't listen to me until you got those kiddies out of here."  
  
Okay that was true and Dean frowned before he remembered what he still had to do. "What makes you think I'll listen now?"  
  
"Harsh. But I did just help you out."  
  
"I could have taken care of it. And you still haven't told me what you want, Crowley."  
  
"Information."  
  
"To paraphrase slightly, what makes you think I either have it or would give it to you?"  
  
As it seemed like the demon really wasn't going to try anything just now, Dean stepped past Crowley into the main room of the basement. There he started to take apart the flamethrower so he could splash the gas all over the place.  
  
"They're already dead," Crowley drawled, amused.  
  
"I like to be sure," Dean stated, checking his work before pulling a matchbox out and lighting one.  
  
"So why didn't you do that with Lucifer?"  
  
The words came just as his match hit the gas and fire roared to life. Dean turned sharply to look at Crowley only to find the demon right beside him and then the world shifted and changed around him. It felt like his whole body was taken and squashed through a far too small tube only to pop out again on the other side. Nausea swelled within him and his sense of balance deserted him completely. All he knew was that one moment he was standing in the basement as it went up in flames and the next he was somewhere else. Where he wasn't sure, only that he wasn't in Kansas anymore and that he was puking his guts out all over Crowley's shiny five hundred dollar shoes. The latter gave him a childish satisfaction even as his hand dived into his pocket for the Jewel. Looks like he'd get to test whether it worked on demons or not.  
  
Crowley's cursing of him and his family stopped abruptly when Dean twisted around enough to bring the glowing Jewel of Abel to bear on the demon without getting up off the ground.  
  
"Easy now, Winchester," Crowley said, hands up in plain view.  
  
"What the hell was that?" Dean demanded.  
  
"Teleportation, demon style. It normally doesn't affect humans quite as badly as this, but I should have known that you'd be a little different what with those angels you hang around with."  
  
"Where are we?"  
  
"Arizona, don't you recognize it?"  
  
Now that he felt a little better, Dean focused on the scenery behind the demon and found that Arizona was indeed a distinct possibility. What with the red rock and all.  
  
"And speaking of angels, I have to admit that I'm surprised, Dean," Crowley continued, all suave confidence now though Dean did notice that the demon kept an eye on the glowing jewel in his palm. "I'd never have pegged you for the type to dig the whole interspecies thing. And with Castiel no less."  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about."  
  
"Nice try, but his stench is all over you. My hand also still burns from touching you."  
  
"That'll teach you to keep your paws to yourself. Now give me one good reason why I shouldn't just blow you away."  
  
Crowley was good but Dean still caught the instinctive flicker of the demon's eyes as Crowley glanced down at the Jewel of Abel. It was clear that the demon didn't know what it was and therefore couldn't tell if he was bluffing or not, which was a good thing as he didn't know either. There was a very good chance that the Jewel of Abel would do absolutely diddlysquat against a demon and he had nothing else other than his gun and a regular knife. He hadn't been expecting to go up against a demon during this hunt after all.  
  
"Like I said before, all I want is information," Crowley stated.  
  
"Information on what?" Dean demanded.  
  
"Lucifer."  
  
"What about him?"  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"What do you mean, what happened?"  
  
Oh yeah, he was definitely getting to the demon, Dean could tell. If there was one thing that he'd always been good at it was pissing people off and regardless of what Sam had to say about it, that was a definite talent. It took skill to irritate people as quickly and easily as he did. The longer this took, the more he'd be recovered from whatever the hell had just happened. He was already feeling a lot better, but his stomach still wasn't quite back to normal yet and he wasn't sure if he'd be able to stand still if he got to his feet just now. He'd rather wait a little longer than sway back and forth and thereby make himself look weak.  
  
"What I mean is that after you two Hardy boys did something nearly a year ago it had appeared like the Apocalypse was over," Crowley began angrily. "Lucifer was gone and everything seemed to be settling back into place. But then the next thing I know, all the rules are changing and now there are rumors that Lucifer's back though no one seems to know what's going on and apparently there's some other angel involved called Samiel or something."  
  
"Simiel," Dean corrected as he tried to decide how much to tell the demon.  
  
His first thought was to just leave Crowley in the dark but the demon had helped them out in the past he knew for certain that Crowley wanted Lucifer out of the picture for good. Whatever else the demon might have on his agenda, getting rid of the devil was definitely the number one as Crowley wanted nothing more than to save his own neck. Also, as small as the possibility was, if there was even a chance that Crowley would be able to convince other demons of his point of view then he had to take it. Forcing Lucifer to split his attention between them and a rebelling demon faction would be a huge tactical advantage, even if the demon rebellion was nothing more than a minor nuisance, it could buy them precious time.  
  
"I don't care who that is," Crowley spat.  
  
"Oh you should, 'cause she's an archangel," Dean replied.  
  
"An archangel?"  
  
"Yep, one who chose Lucifer's side during the rebellion and who was locked up afterwards."  
  
"I assume that Lucifer freed her?"  
  
"That would be my guess."  
  
"And how the bloody hell is he back anyway?" Crowley demanded. "I thought you two Hardy boys took care of him?"  
  
"We shoved him back in his cage."  
  
"And?"  
  
"And it didn't hold."  
  
The truth but seriously lacking in detail. That had always been his father's advice when it came to lying or trying to distract someone from something you didn't want them to know about. Dean had always found it particularly useful.  
  
"So he's just back out again? That doesn't match up with the reports I've gotten."  
  
"That's 'cause Cas and I managed to perform a ritual that prevents him from taking a human vessel," Dean explained.  
  
"I don't suppose that's permanent?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
"Of course not."  
  
"Was there anything else?"  
  
"Yeah, what are you planning to do next?"  
  
"That's for me to know."  
  
"It's my neck on the line here as well, cupcake."  
  
"My heart bleeds." That earned Dean a dark glare but he simply smiled. "Unless you've got something else to offer?"  
  
"Not at the moment."  
  
"Then we're done here."  
  
"Wait, how do I contact you?" Crowley demanded.  
  
Dean was very tempted to just tell the demon that he didn't, but Crowley had proven useful in the past and given how fruitless their research had been as of late, he didn't think that they could just afford to ignore anything. "You got a mobile?"  
  
"I was afraid you'd say that, yes I have a cellphone."  
  
"Give me the number," Dean said, pulling his out with his left hand and entering the information. "Here's mine," he continued, sending a meaningless text. "How'd you find me this time anyway?"  
  
"With a lot of effort. Your brother was far easier to find and I'd hoped that you'd join him eventually but you had to be difficult."  
  
"I aim to make life as hard as possible for demons," Dean replied, trying to mask just what effect those words had on him. "What, didn't feel like talking to Sam?"  
  
Crowley snorted. "And give him the chance to try and rip my head off? Not a chance."  
  
Well that at least was a relief. Now that he felt better, Dean got to his feet and used the opportunity to take in more of his surroundings. "Was there anything else?"  
  
"Not unless you want to tell me what you're up to?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
"Not even a hint?"  
  
"Goodbye, Crowley."  
  
"I take it you'll catch a lift home with lover boy?"  
  
Dean sent more energy into the Jewel instead of answering and Crowley was gone in an instant. Muttering darkly to himself, he waited a few moments to be sure that the demon was really gone before he opened his cell once more.  
  
"Hey, Cas, can you come pick me up?"  
  



	103. Chapter 102

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and his archangels discuss his meeting with Crowley.

PAST  
  
  
"You have worked with this demon before?" Raphael inquired, face scrunched up like he'd smelled something foul.  
  
"Yeah, back before you guys saw the light," Dean replied, leaning back in his chair and sipping the water he'd gotten to soothe his throat. "He knew that should Lucifer win the Apocalypse that your brother would turn on them as soon as he was finished with us."  
  
"Perceptive," Michael commented. "Do you trust him?"  
  
"No, of course not!"  
  
"Good."  
  
Dean snorted. "I'm not an idiot, Mike, nothing could make me trust a demon. Hell, just ask Cas about how long it took me to start trusting him."  
  
"Long," Castiel stated dryly.  
  
"Even though he was an angel?" Michael asked.  
  
"Even though he was an angel," Dean agreed, shooting his lover a look to show he didn't find Castiel's remark nearly as funny as his angel seemed to think it was. "I basically don't trust anything supernatural without a damn good reason. Cas earned that trust and so have you guys."  
  
"It is an honor we take seriously," Raphael declared.  
  
Dean caught the archangel's eyes and held his gaze for a moment before nodding. He'd never in his life have expected to, but he knew that he now trusted Raphael even if he still wasn't sure how else he felt about the archangel. He definitely wouldn't call them friends, but he was no longer sure that it would never happen. And if anyone had ever told him that he'd come to see Raphael this way in the past, he'd have laughed in their face before cold cocking them. Then again if anyone had ever told him that he'd voluntarily stay away from Sam, he'd never have believed them either and yet here he was nearly a year after he and his brother's last true time together- or at least the last time that they'd both been aware that they were together- and he was as much to blame for that separation as Sam.  
  
It was something that Dean had spent quite a bit of time on lately as the one year anniversary of what they'd originally thought was the end of the Apocalypse (and that which Sam still believed to be exactly that) drew near. Yes, it was his brother who had commenced their extended separation by not coming to find him as soon as Sam was resurrected, but he was the one who had kept it going by not running to his brother as soon as he'd learned that Sam was still alive. Okay, no, by not staying with his brother once he'd had Castiel bring him to Sam. He could admit to himself that he  _had_  gone running to Sam as soon as he'd learned that his baby brother was alive once more and that seemed so strange now.  
  
The revelation that he didn't  _need_  Sam as much as he'd always thought that he did had kept Dean up more than one night as of late and had sent him rushing to the toilet when he'd first made it. His first instinct had been to deny the revelation and figure out what the hell was wrong with him for being such a bad brother and he knew that he'd worried Castiel with his violent reaction but his lover had seemed to be able to tell that this was something he wasn't ready to share just yet. Instead of pushing, Castiel had relieved him of his adverse physical symptoms and had then held him close, providing a sense of comfort and security as he finally started to come to terms with how his feelings for, and opinions about, Sam had changed over the course of the past year. In typical Winchester fashion he'd been ignoring all of that as best he could and thus it had been quite a shock to find how drastically they had changed.  
  
He was forced to swallow an unamused laugh at the thought. No matter how dramatic a change in some ways, Dean knew that Sam would say that the way in which he'd ignored it while it was happening was him to a tee and his brother would be right. So in some ways he'd changed tremendously and in others he was still exactly the same. It was comforting, that latter as it let him know that he hadn't lost himself somewhere along the way, not that he believed either Castiel or Michael would allow him to do so, but it helped him to deal with it and accept things for what they now were.  
  
So Sam didn't mean as much to him anymore as his brother used to and Dean found that he was surprisingly okay with that. Oh he still loved the little bitch and he knew that he always would, but he no longer  _needed_  him around in order to be able to feel happy or like he was worth something. It wasn't an easy realization to come to terms with but the fact remained that he was only now figuring out he now felt like this. The actual hard thing, the changing of his feelings, had already occurred even if he'd not consciously accepted it at the time.  
  
"Dean?" Castiel questioned.  
  
"Huh?" Dean replied, blinking. He looked up to find his lover crouched beside him with a frown on his face. "Sorry, I was a million miles away. Did you say something?"  
  
Castiel's frown remained as his angel looked at him and Dean realized that he'd left things too long. In the past he'd never have shared his thoughts and fears with anyone else, not even his brother and father, but now he had someone who was paying enough attention to him to really notice how distracted he'd been as of late and to see how much this was affecting him and it wasn't fair to Castiel to keep him in the dark.  
  
"Dean-" Castiel began, reaching out to touch him.  
  
"I was thinking about Sam," Dean stated.  
  
His lover frowned but seemed to accept it before concern filled Castiel's face when his lover's fingers touched him. "You're unwell. What happened?"  
  
"Huh? What?"  
  
Dean's confusion cleared when his angel's hand moved from his face to his stomach and he remembered being sick earlier. He'd kind of forgotten about it between explaining to Castiel why he needed a lift back to the Impala and then again to Michael and Raphael when his lover had called them over. He smiled in gratitude as the burn at the back of his throat from vomiting faded with a brush of Castiel's fingers.  
  
"I'm fine, it was just a one-off thing," Dean explained.  
  
"What happened?" Michael repeated Castiel's question, stepping closer.  
  
"I didn't react very well to Crowley taking me for a ride," he laughed once. "And I used to think Angel Air was bad, turns out that it's got nothing on demonic teleportation."  
  
"You reacted adversely to being transported by the demon?" Raphael questioned.  
  
"Yes," Castiel confirmed for him. "He was physically ill."  
  
"What, isn't that normal?" Dean asked at the thoughtful look on the healer's face.  
  
"No, most humans will experience only a mild discomfort if they feel anything at all," Raphael explained. "Since demons are unable to heal their human hosts, they require a method of teleportation that is not harmful to the body they are possessing or they would need to find a new one every time they transported like that."  
  
"Oh. So why was I sick?"  
  
"That is probably my fault," Michael stated.  
  
"It is the most likely explanation," Raphael agreed. "From the moment that you first allowed Michael inside of you, you were no longer merely a potential vessel but someone who has been in direct contact with angelic Grace and no human isn't marked by that in some way."  
  
"And angelic Grace does not react well to demonic essence or power," Michael added.  
  
"Ya think?" Dean retorted, trying to decide how he felt about that. It wasn't all that long ago that he'd have had a freak out about what Raphael was implying, but now he found that it didn't bother him so much which probably had something to do with the fact that he wouldn't give up being able to see and touch his angels' wings for anything and that was another side effect of having let Michael in. "So, wait, wouldn't this already have been the case from when Cas resurrected me? I mean he touched me with his true form while doing that."  
  
"Your soul," Raphael replied. "Castiel touched your soul with his Grace then, not your body. Though he healed it the type of interaction required for that and with the taking of a vessel is vastly different."  
  
"Okay, so is this something permanent? I mean will it always feel like that if a demon nabs me or is it only for a certain amount of time after Mike pops in for a visit?"  
  
"It is not something that will fade."  
  
"Nor is the fact that touching you affected him," Michael added.  
  
"You mean the burning?"  
  
"Yes and this could be due as much to my influence as Castiel's."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yes, at least if he touched you somewhere that you might have had traces of Castiel's oil."  
  
"Oh."  
  
The words made Dean look over at his lover and he found Castiel looking back at him with a self-satisfied smirk. The look sent a spark of annoyance through him and a wave of desire so he scowled at his angel. It wasn't fair that Castiel was able to mark him so easily and, to the supernatural, so obviously and he couldn't do the same in return. Even his physical marks only lasted for as long as Castiel remembered not to let himself heal which his angel had to consciously prevent himself from doing. Heck, Crowley hadn't even needed to touch him to know that they were together, the demon could  _smell_  Castiel on him no doubt due to the wing oil.  
  
It wasn't fair.  
  
The touch of feathers to the side of his face made Dean smile before he swatted the wing away. "Behave," he admonished playfully.  
  
"I don't understand," Castiel tried.  
  
Dean growled as he felt a wing brush his back and then shivered as some of the feathers ran along the bare skin of his arm as he'd taken his flannel off with his jacket upon returning home. "Castiel."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Don't tease."  
  
"Who says Castiel is teasing?" Raphael asked.  
  
The words didn't immediately register but when they did, Dean squawked and then sputtered when Castiel was suddenly behind him and there were arms around him. His eyes were wide and filled with disbelief as they darted from Michael to Raphael while he was pulled against the back of his chair before his lover's hands slipped lower. The worst thing was that he was responding, the familiar touches inflaming him very easily.  
  
"But... I..." Dean began before focusing on Michael. "I thought you weren't thrilled about this."  
  
"Back when I was not sure of your intentions," Michael replied.  
  
"Dean?" Castiel inquired, his hands stilling before he moved around so his angel could see his face. "You have never cared if there were others present before."  
  
It was true, Dean had gone quite far with an audience before and might even have gone further if it hadn't been for extenuating circumstances, but that was different. It also wasn't like he had anything against exhibitionism either as it could be hot, both for those viewing and those performing, but he did draw the line at family. Which would normally have included Sam except that he'd always known that his brother would run out the moment it became clear that he wasn't going to stop. Michael and Raphael, however, he was pretty sure would actually stay around and watch if they started anything now.  
  
"They're your brothers," Dean said.  
  
"And Sam is- ah, yes, I believe I see," Castiel replied and he was pretty sure that his lover did get it.  
  
"But you didn't tell the demon no to his offer despite not trusting him," Michael stated after a moment and Dean sent him a grateful look.  
  
"I thought it best not to burn any bridges so long as we don't have a concrete plan," Dean explained.  
  
"Crowley has also proven himself to be resourceful before," Castiel agreed. "Though the moment it is in his best interest to betray us, he will."  
  
"I know, but that won't happen so long as Lucifer is free as I don't think the devil will ever forgive Crowley."  
  
"He will not," Raphael confirmed. "What did you tell the demon?"  
  
"Just that the cage didn't hold, I purposefully didn't mention yourself or Mike, nor did I let him know that Cas has been restored and promoted. He does, however, know about us," Dean continued, looking at his lover.  
  
"He would have been able to smell it," Castiel said before tilting his head and observing him. "You were hoping he could create another diversion for Lucifer to focus on."  
  
"Do you think he could stir up a rebellion among the demons?"  
  
"It would be difficult as many of them see Lucifer as their creator and father," Michael responded. "However it might be possible just like it was among us and that would serve my brother right after what he did."  
  
"Well I've got his number and he's got mine, so we'll see what comes of it. He can't get in here, right?"  
  
"No, we've fully warded the place so even if the salt lines were to be broken he would still not be able to enter."  
  
"Good."  
  
"If there is nothing else, then I have something to show you, Michael," Raphael stated.  
  
"I've got nothing else," Dean said.  
  
"Me neither," Castiel added.  
  
When the other two archangels had left, Dean turned his attention to his own archangel, hoping to continue what Castiel had started now that they were alone but instead he found himself pulled to his feet and led towards the couch. Crap, he'd forgotten that he'd admitted to thinking about Sam earlier when he'd gotten lost in his thoughts and he knew better than to think that Castiel would let him get away with only opening up partially. His lover had already been very patient with him the past few days and he owed him an explanation.  
  
With a sigh, Dean shifted so he was lying down on the couch instead of sitting on it and he rested his head in Castiel's lap before tugging one of his lover's inner wings closer so that he could groom it as he talked. Not only would that allow him to ground himself but it would be a tangible reminder of all that he'd gained since deciding to steer clear of Sam. Not to mention that it had the added benefit of allowing him to do something other than look at Castiel's eyes as he spoke and therefore have to see the emotions he couldn't deal with so easily there.  
  
"I realized the other day that it's nearly a year since we confronted Michael and Lucifer at Stull Cemetery," Dean began, running his oil slick fingers through the soft feathers.


	104. Chapter 103

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean spends an evening away from research to ponder what he's read about angelic bonding ceremonies.

**PAST**  
  
  
The stars were particularly bright tonight, Dean mused as he shifted slightly on the hood of the Impala, though he was sure it helped that he was currently in the middle of nowhere. With Castiel not around and the weather being so unseasonably warm, he'd been unable to just stay indoors all evening after having spent almost all of the day doing nothing but research. Therefore he'd opted to just go for a ride and use the time to think.  
  
Dean snorted as he thought of how unlike him it was. Most people he knew wouldn't even believe him if he told them that was what he'd gone out to do, but then most of them wouldn't believe that he was currently giving serious consideration to tying the knot the angelic way. He'd read the book that Michael had left him through twice and hadn't been able to stop thinking about it ever since. No matter what he was doing, thoughts of it would hit him out of the blue. It probably didn't help that he currently spent most of his time reading about angels, but still, this was different.  
  
Angel marriage.  
  
The concept was still the closest that Dean could come up with for the bonding that the book described and yet he now knew it to be a hopelessly inaccurate metaphor, simile, whatever the proper fancy word was for comparing one thing with something else and he wasn't even sure why he wanted to use it except that the bonding was even more serious than marriage and if there was one thing about relationships that his father had drummed home into him it was that marriage was sacred. In other areas all bets were off but marriage was one line he'd never knowingly crossed, not even with all of the women he'd slept with. Hell, it was one lesson that even Sam had taken away with him with absolutely no fuss whatsoever and he had no doubt that if things hadn't gone the way that they had that his little brother would be married to Jess right now.  
  
For one of the first times ever, Dean didn't wish that he could have done things differently back then. Because no matter how awful things had gotten at times (and yes, he included his not so little stint in Hell in that), he'd never have met Castiel if it wasn't for all of those bad things and his lover was the one thing that he wouldn't give up for the anything.  
  
Which was precisely why Dean now found himself seriously considering completing their bond via the official ritual despite the fact that even thinking of doing so scared the crap out of him on several levels. It had been against his nature for so long- both the aversion to exactly this type of commitment and to allow anything supernatural to influence him in any way- for him to simply be able to cast aside those two hold ups no matter how illogical they might be now. He'd been trusting Castiel for years and he'd allowed his angel to do any number of things to him so he hated the fact that this reared its ugly head now. Stupid psychology and emotional bullshit.  
  
He grimaced at the thought. Despite what Sam might think, Dean was well aware of how fucked up he was with most things psychological and that he'd have been a shrink's wet dream if they'd ever been truly caught and sentenced by Hendriksen. And while he didn't want to be normal, he did wish that he wasn't quite so messed up or psychologically scarred. Just thinking of it was enough to terrify him and he shuddered as he recalled the nightmares he'd had after that wraith hunt in the asylum. He'd let his brother think that they were the usual memories of Hell haunting him when Sam had bothered to notice that something was wrong but really it had been all about what had been said in there. Some of it had hit far too close to home for comfort and he hated it, not the least because there had been nothing he could do about it. So what if he had issues stemming from his father? Dad had done what he thought was best and even if he didn't agree with it, he really wasn't in a position to complain as he couldn't exactly think of how else Dad could have handled things. Not with Azazel gunning for Sam. Given that, hunting the demon down first did seem like the best idea and he knew that he'd have done the same if it had been his son or even with Sam if he'd known about it sooner.  
  
None of which was really an issue right now. Dean gave himself a mental slap though he knew why his mind had veered so sharply off course. It was because the next part, the next step of the bonding, still terrified him on some level. For someone who'd never been religious and had never truly cared about all of the 'soul crap' as he'd used to think of it, he'd definitely come to appreciate the significance and importance of his soul now. He'd been unable to do anything else after his little sojourn downstairs, given that his body definitely hadn't been there. So, given that, he thought it extremely justified that he was more than a little wary of anything that required him to tear off a part of it. Not that book described it as such, but reading between the lines he knew that it basically boiled down to that. The book called it communion, the coming together of two mated Graces during bonding after which they separated each with a piece of the other's Grace, which in his case would be a soul piece instead of a Grace piece.  
  
Dean shifted uncomfortably at the thought. It was his greatest hang up about the whole thing as he couldn't help but flash back to Alastair and Hell when he thought of a part of his soul getting hacked off. It wasn't the same he knew, but the book didn't really go into detail about the communion bit and thus he didn't have any reference for exactly how the soul piece would be removed from the rest of him except for his experiences on the rack. Although all of that hacking had never resulted in a permanent severing of his soul. Or at least not that he was aware of though it would explain the sense of loss he'd felt upon first being resurrected... Could it be? No. Castiel would have told him if something like that had happened. Just like Michael would have said something if this bonding ceremony had some type of adverse effect on him, being human, and his friend hadn't.  
  
So that meant that it couldn't be bad, no matter how it might seem to him. But Dean had already established that he was seriously fucked up so it being him had a lot going for it. Not to mention the fact that the positives totally outweighed the negatives. Yeah, the thought of part of his soul being broken off and taken from him freaked him out, but the thought of getting part of Castiel, part of his  _Grace_ , really appealed to him. Like surprisingly. And that was to say nothing about the enhanced connection it would create between them. He already knew from his experience with Michael how amazing Grace felt alongside his soul, not to mention how addictive the connection with his angel would be. He'd already felt something like it the last time he'd been with Michael and he'd reached out for Castiel and he'd been craving that closeness with his lover ever since. He'd tried desperately to feel the bond between them since separating from Michael, but he'd never been able to feel even a shadow of it. Completion of the bond, though, would ensure that he could always feel his angel, the Grace piece giving him a direct connection to Castiel.  
  
The thought made Dean smile and he sipped some more beer. The idea of having a bit of his lover nestled in his very soul was amazingly alluring and he desperately wanted it. The realization he'd come to during Castiel's recovery had definitely made a lasting impression and he just wished that it hadn't taken something like that to make him get there. But what could he say? He was a stubborn, hard-headed idiot. Now that he'd realized it, though, he wasn't going to waste any more time, especially not with them, essentially, being at war. Besides, the thought that Castiel might treasure the idea of having a piece of his soul eased his instinctive fear on that level a lot. Not to mention the fact that he didn't know anyone who'd protect it better than his lover, himself included.  
  
The flutter of wings had Dean looking to his left and he was surprised to see Raphael appear beside the Impala.  
  
"Hey, Raph," Dean greeted and then caught the look that flashed across the archangel's face and winced. "-ael. Sorry, I wasn't trying to aggravate you, honest."  
  
Raphael tilted his head to one side studying him. "You meant it as you do Mike as opposed to Mikey."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Very well," the archangel nodded once. "I require your assistance."  
  
"Oh? What for?"  
  
"I have been attempting to track down an artefact that can be used to open one of the gateways to Perdition."  
  
"Wow, wait, what?" Dean demanded, sitting up sharply. "A gateway to Hell? Like the one in Wyoming that Azazel opened a few years ago?"  
  
"Yes, precisely. That gateway is only one of several that exist, some larger and some smaller, between Earth and Perdition," Raphael confirmed.  
  
"Why haven't I heard of this before? Why didn't you guys mention it?"  
  
"I was unaware that you were ignorant of their existence."  
  
"Okay, how many are there and where are they?"  
  
"There are six, the one in Wyoming near the Devil's Gate, and then one each near the Devil's Punch Bowl in England, the Devil's Pool in Australia and the Devil's Peak in South Africa. Then there is also one on the Devil's Island in French Guiana and one under the Devil's Sea off the coast of Japan."  
  
"Je- Shit! They're all over the place."  
  
"I believe that was done intentionally in order to achieve maximum access should they all be opened at once."  
  
Dean's eyes grew wide at the thought. "All be opened at once? Crap, is that Lucifer's plan, do you think? We'd be overrun!"  
  
"It is a distinct possibility if he were ever to obtain the means to do so."  
  
"What do you mean, the means?"  
  
"All of the gateways are protected which is why none but the Devil's Gate and the Devil's Sea have ever been opened before."  
  
"The Devil's Sea has been opened?"  
  
"Yes," Raphael nodded. "It was several centuries ago but some dedicated samurai and Shinto priests were able to close it shortly afterwards, much as you and your brother did in Wyoming."  
  
"I assume that they hunted down the demons that got out?"  
  
"Most of them, but not all. Some of the demons had immediately left the continent, spreading far beyond the reach of those hoping to contain them, while others chose to take up residence in the ocean itself where they have been wreaking havoc ever since."  
  
"Demons in the water? That's a bit odd."  
  
"There are many types of demons, Dean, and you would not easily encounter those that prefer a marine environment."  
  
"But what do they do?"  
  
"What all demons do, cause harm and havoc. In this case they focus their attention on humans who dare enter their territory on boats and ships. The Devil's Sea is one of the biggest such territories, the Bermuda Triangle being another."  
  
"The Bermuda Triangle?" Dean repeated in disbelief. "That's actually real? And caused by demons?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Well shit. But wait, that one wasn't caused by a gate, was it?"  
  
"No, I believe a relatively powerful demon simply took a liking to the area."  
  
"Oh, great, a demon with real estate issues, that's just wonderful."  
  
"I have been to every gateway and had a look at the state of their protections. The ones in Wyoming and Japan obviously needed repair and strengthening, which has now been taken care of."  
  
"Good, that's very good. What about the others?"  
  
"They were fine, but I have been attempting to track down the keys to each as additional insurance. They can be broken without them, of course, but it is a lot harder and we'd most likely learn of it in time to react."  
  
"Keys, you mean like the Colt?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Did you find them?"  
  
"The ones for the Devil's Punch Bowl and the Devil's Sea, yes, and Castiel said that you still possess the Colt."  
  
"Yep, do you need it?"  
  
"No, I believe you require it more."  
  
"What have you done with the other two keys?"  
  
"Locked them up in Heaven under constant guard."  
  
That almost seemed like overkill until Dean remembered that someone had managed to break into Heaven and steal his grandfather's soul, so being extra cautious with the keys was probably a good thing. "Any leads on the remaining keys?"  
  
"The one for the Devil's Pool seems to have vanished somewhere in what you call the seventeenth century and I have been unable to uncover any traces of it."  
  
"The Devil's Pool, which one was that again?"  
  
"The one in Australia."  
  
"Ah, okay. Why are they all called Devil's something? Surely it would be better to try and hide them."  
  
"All attempts were made to conceal their location as much as possible, but something of Hell does seep through even a sealed gateway and that essence was correctly attributed to my brother by the humans inhabiting the surrounding areas."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Do not worry, the number of landmarks, natural phenomena and monuments named after Lucifer's human name are extremely numerous and therefore the gateways are still afforded some protection and anonymity from those demons who would attempt to find them."  
  
"It's better than nothing, I guess."  
  
"I had marginally more success in attempting to find the keys for the Devil's Peak in South Africa and the Devil's Island in French Guiana, but it was still not as much as I had hoped. Until today."  
  
"What happened today?"  
  
"I found a document pertaining to the Devil's Peak key and I managed to track down its location with this information."  
  
"Okay, so what's the problem?"  
  
"It is being kept in a building near the Peak, which is not only far too close for comfort but the building has also been angel proofed."  
  
Dean's eyebrows shot upwards. "Really?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"So you want me to break in and get it for you? Isn't it safe where it is with the angel wards and all, even if it is kinda close to the gate?"  
  
"I could not detect any Devil's traps, nor would the angel sigils prevent another human from obtaining the key for Lucifer."  
  
"Good point. Okay, so when do you want to go?"  
  
"Now would be best."  
  
Well so much for his quiet, relaxing evening. On the positive side, though, at least he wouldn't be doing any more research.


	105. Chapter 104

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It wasn't his fault that what had started out as simply a ride to enjoy the good weather had turned into a global trip to find a lost religious relic.

**PAST**  
  
  
The first thing that struck Dean upon landing was that it was noticeably colder even though it was daytime instead of the evening that it had been back home. Colder and wetter, wasn't Africa supposed to be hot and dry?  
  
"Dude, what's with the weather?" Dean demanded, hugging his t-shirt tighter around himself. "It's June for Heaven's sake!"  
  
"Yes, precisely."  
  
"What?"  
  
"In this part of the world June is well into winter instead of the summer that it is in the northern hemisphere," Raphael explained.  
  
"Huh, yeah, I think I remember something about that now. That's just wrong."  
  
"A very human perspective."  
  
"Bite me, Raph."  
  
"I do not believe Castiel would approve."  
  
Dean sputtered for a moment in disbelief before he caught the humor in the archangel's eyes and realized that Raphael was baiting him and he stuck his tongue out at- at the angel that would essentially be his brother-in-law if he went through with this bonding thing. The realization caught him off-guard for a moment before the full implications of it hit him. The bonding would mean that  _every single_  angel out there would become his brother or sister-in-law. Michael, Xarael, Raphael, Gabriel, hell it would mean that he'd killed a brother-in-law in the form of Zachariah and- Fuck, that would mean that he'd slept with what would then be his sister-in-law; Anna. Not to mention that he'd then suddenly be related to both Simiel and Lucifer. Each and every last member of Castiel's crazy and extended family would be his right down to his lover's Fat-  
  
"Right, what is this key exactly and where is it being kept?" Dean questioned, desperately shoving  _that_  thought out of his mind, hopefully forever and ever and ever and ever  _and ever_.  
  
"This gateway's key is a metal and ivory staff heavily carved with all manner of pagan symbolism and imagery."  
  
"Pagan?"  
  
"The missionaries who secured the gateway thought it would be a good way to disguise the key," Raphael explained. "They rightly believed that any demons who would seek it out would be looking for something dedicated to my Father."  
  
"Smart. Did anyone come close to attaining it?"  
  
"Not the true key, though Beelzebub did manage to track down one of the decoy keys the missionaries made and he attempted to open the gateway with that."  
  
"Let me guess, no dice."  
  
Raphael tilted his head and frowned in confusion. "Indeed, there were no dice involved. Beelzebub instead found himself swiftly returned to Perdition as the missionaries had laid down a number of traps should any of the decoys ever be used."  
  
Dean had to swallow back the laugh that wanted to escape. Things were going too well so far for him to want to risk upsetting the balance and he knew that this archangel was still quite sensitive to what Raphael perceived as derision or scorn. Besides there was something endearingly Castiel-ish about it all that made him more inclined to lay off on the teasing a bit. Lately he'd noticed more and more little things about Raphael that made it clear that he really was his angel's brother. Castiel's brother, just like Castiel's Fath-  
  
"Okay, a carved metal and ivory staff. I don't suppose you've got a picture of it or anything?" Dean inquired.  
  
"No, depictions of it in religious texts were strongly discouraged in order to prevent the unworthy from being able to find and use it."  
  
"Right, makes sense even if it makes things harder."  
  
"I believe that it is now known as the Staff of Thunder after the pagan god to whom its creation was attributed."  
  
"Staff of Thunder? Honestly, who comes up with this shit?"  
  
 _He_  could come up with a better name for the damned thing and Dean knew he wasn't exactly the most creative of people. Shaking his head in exasperation, he turned his attention more fully to their surroundings. It said a lot for how far he'd come with Raphael that it hadn't been his first reaction or priority upon landing. His heart sank as he discovered that they were standing outside of a museum, a large and well maintained museum. There went his original idea of just breaking in and stealing the key before anyone even realized that he was there.  
  
"I don't suppose that you can get me inside at all?" Dean asked.  
  
"No, the sigils cover the entire building."  
  
"Of course they do. Shit."  
  
"Can you not simply enter as those people are doing?" Raphael questioned, pointing to a couple walking inside.  
  
"Yeah, but then they'll have a trace of me and I'll be stuck to the official tourist route. Not to mention the fact that if the museum is open that the key will most likely be on display and thus difficult to get at. Hmm, let me think."  
  
"I am sorry that I am unable to help you more."  
  
"S'okay. I wonder..."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Are South Africans Christian?"  
  
"A majority of them worship my Father, yes."  
  
"And are they Catholic?"  
  
"That I cannot determine as easily."  
  
"No?"  
  
"It is a meaningless human split of my Father's original teachings."  
  
Dean snorted. "Ain't that the truth. I suppose I could-" He held up a hand when the archangel opened his mouth as he suddenly dug out his cell phone and hit a speed dial. "Hey, Father Mancini, it's Dean Winchester here," he greeted in Italian.  
  
"Dean! How are you?" Father Mancini replied pleasantly.  
  
"I'm good but I need a favor."  
  
"Anything."  
  
The immediate response had Dean pulling a face, because seriously? For all the man knew, he was going to ask for something outrageous or totally against everything the Catholic Church stood for. Absolute power corrupting absolutely and all of that and the pope had pretty much written him a blank check as far as he was concerned. They really needed to be more careful about those things, though he supposed that he hadn't helped matters any as he'd yet to take his shiny new credit card for a spin at an adult shop like he really should have. It was just that he could already picture Castiel's disapproving and disappointed look if he were actually to try it and he was whipped enough to know what exactly was stopping him from actually doing it as he would have before.  
  
It was a fantasy to ponder about later, but for now Dean just gave the priest the pertinent details of where he was and that he needed the Staff of Thunder (he couldn't believe that he was saying that!) from the museum.  
  
"I will look into who we have in the area that might be able to help you and let you know," Father Mancini promised.  
  
"Thanks, that'll be a big help," Dean replied before hanging up and turning to the archangel waiting beside him. "Let's give the official route a try before we move onto anything more drastic."  
  
"You believe that they will simply hand the key to you?" Raphael questioned.  
  
"The Catholic Church is pretty powerful and they seem to have people everywhere, so it's definitely worth a shot. I'd go in there and just flash the ID they gave me, but if there happens to be no one there who's connected to them then they'll have my name and description which isn't a good idea even if I doubt they'd manage to track it back to America."  
  
"Very well."  
  
"Good, now let's see if they've got anything worth eating around here, I'm starved."  
  
"You are always hungry."  
  
"Hey! Am not."  
  
"Yes, you are."  
  
"Am n- Excuse me, human here."  
  
"I could not forget."  
  
"Hey!"  
  


* * *

  
  
"Dean Winchester to see Miss Kruger, please," Dean said, holding out his Vatican ID.  
  
He would normally have added on a flirtatious smile except that the receptionist was male. Dean had considered doing it anyway for a moment but the guy really was stern looking and he suddenly realized that he had no idea how South Africans regarded gays. Hadn't he once heard that homosexuality was illegal in certain parts of the continent? He couldn't quite understand how something natural that people had absolutely no control over could be made illegal- which was probably why he even remembered having heard of it in the first place- but then, prejudice never did make sense to anyone but the bigots who spouted it.  
  
The receptionist took his ID and looked at it before raising an eyebrow at him and, yeah, Dean could see why the guy was so damn skeptical, he would be too if things were the other way around. And wouldn't it be ironic that the first time he tried to show a legit formal identification he'd be doubted? That'd be just his kind of luck too. The way he was dressed also didn't help he was sure, but if he'd known that he'd be pulling the Vatican card today, he'd have gotten changed before going out. It wasn't his fault that what had started out as simply a ride to enjoy the good weather had turned into a global trip to find a lost religious relic. Even he had trouble believing his life sometimes. At least these days he had the crazy good along with the crazy bad, that was more than he'd ever been able to claim before.  
  
"Miss Kruger is expecting you and shall be down shortly," the receptionist finally stated, his accent clearly indicating that English wasn't his first language. "Please take a seat."  
  
"Thanks," Dean replied, taking back his ID and turning to the uncomfortable looking chairs behind him.  
  
Why was it that these types of places always had such horrible seats? As a child, Dean had been convinced that there was some kind of supernatural conspiracy behind it all and he'd tried to convince his dad of it so that his father would hunt down those responsible for it and put them down. He smiled at the memory as he folded his tall frame into the small chair. He might not have his brother's or even his father's height, but he was still above average in his own right and these things seemed to have been made for kids. So he might have been a little bloodthirsty as a child but who that knew the truth could blame him? The problem had always been those that hadn't known the truth. It had taken him a little while to learn that there were certain things that shouldn't be said to teachers or any adult other than his father and those Dad said it was okay to talk about the supernatural with. Dad had avoided a repeat of that whole scenario by not telling Sammy about what was really out there until his brother was a lot older.  
  
"Mr. Winchester? I'm Miss Kruger."  
  
Dean looked up at the sound of his name and was surprised to find that the woman was dark skinned despite her name. Apparently some people had been able to get past their prejudices at least.  
  
"Please call me Dean..." Dean replied, trailing off in the hope of getting her name.  
  
"It's Miss Kruger and you're Mr. Winchester," she returned coldly.  
  
"Whoa, okay, sorry. Just trying to be friendly, honest."  
  
His raised hands earned him a suspicious, narrow-eyed stare. All of Dean's hopes of this going smoothly were rapidly evaporating. When Father Mancini had called him back and given him a name, saying that she worked in the museum and had the right level of access to help him out, he'd dared to hope that he could pull this off without having to resort to illegal and risky activities. So much for that.  
  
"Follow me," Kruger snapped, spinning on her heel and striding off.  
  
Startled, Dean rushed off after her, not wanting to be left behind. "Look, I'm sorry if I said something to offend you, Miss Kruger, it really wasn't my intention."  
  
"You didn't."  
  
"Didn't what?"  
  
"Say something."  
  
"Then what-"  
  
"It's not what you said," Kruger stated, stopping at an elevator and stabbing the button. "It's what you did or rather what the Vatican told me you're planning to do."  
  
With a sigh Dean followed her into the elevator and waited until the doors had closed before speaking. "I'm sorry if my taking the Staff of Thunder will be a problem, but it's really important that I have it."  
  
In a move so fast that it surprised Dean, Kruger hit the emergency stop button and sprayed him with something. He blinked and realized it was water, Holy water most likely, just as she spat a "Christo!" at him.  
  
"I'm not a demon," Dean said, more amused than anything else. Really, when was the last time someone had assumed that he was one of those black-eyed sons of bitches?  
  
"Just checking."  
  
"Did you think the Vatican would vouch for someone who wasn't protected?"  
  
Dean meant the fact that he was almost constantly surrounded by archangels, but pulled down the collar of his shirt instead so that she could see his tattoo.  
  
"Why do you want the key?"  
  
"What do you know about that?" Dean demanded, shifting into a more defensive stance as he realized that she wasn't just some Vatican source who happened to work here.  
  
"What do you?"  
  
"Okay, am I getting warm with the words, Devil's Peak?" Her shocked expression told Dean all he needed to know. "Look, I don't know what you know about that, Miss Kruger, but that key isn't safe here anymore. It's time to move it somewhere else and, trust me, I can ensure that happens far better than you can."  
  
"It's been safe here so far."  
  
"Because it was secret and things were different, but the situation has changed now, if you know about demons then surely you're aware of that."  
  
"And what makes you think that you can protect it better than us?"  
  
"Because of the same thing that made the pope decide that I should have this," Dean replied, pulling his ID again. "How often do they give these out?" Kruger looked at the ID and Dean could see the wheels spinning in her head as she tried to decide what to do. "Come on," he pressed. "If my side can figure out that the key is here, how long do you think it'll be before others do the same? And then what, you don't even have any devil's traps up around here."  
  
"Devil's traps? What are those?"  
  
It took Dean a moment or two to recall that he'd only known about them for a few short years despite being a hunter for nearly his entire life. If his father hadn't stumbled across them even with all of his research into demons, then it really wasn't all that surprising that Kruger wouldn't have heard of them. He pulled out a small notebook he kept in his pocket and grabbed the pen in her suit pocket and drew one before tearing the page out and handing it to her.  
  
"Here, this is a devil's trap. Draw that, exactly like this, and no demon will be able to leave it once he steps into it unless it's broken."  
  
"And this will work better than the sigils we have up?"  
  
"Sigils?" Dean repeated before he realized what she was on about. "Honey, those are anti-angel wards, not anti-demon."  
  
"Anti-angel? Now you're just lying to me, trying to trick me."  
  
With another sigh, Dean waved his Vatican ID again. "You just splashed me with Holy water, if you were sure those sigils of yours worked on demons you wouldn't have had to do that. A demon got in recently, didn't it?"  
  
"Yes," Kruger confirmed looking down.  
  
"Perhaps more than one?"  
  
"It has gotten so bad that I've had to take the key off display, replacing it with a backup that was created for showcasing whenever the key required routine cleaning and preservation."  
  
"Then let me take it away from here and get it somewhere safe. The last thing either of us want is for that gate to be opened."  
  
Kruger stared at him for a long moment and Dean could now see the exhaustion in her eyes. He could only imagine how hard she'd been working lately to keep any demon from getting their hands on the key, especially since she was working blind without a devil's trap to help her. The fact that the demons were also aware of the key made him uneasy and he couldn't help but wonder if they were working alone or if this was something that Lucifer was up to. The devil had been far too quiet for his liking as he'd much rather know what Lucifer was up to than to be left floundering blindly in the dark.  
  
Either it was something that she saw in his eyes or it was the Vatican ID, Dean wasn't sure which, but Kruger finally nodded and hit the emergency button again and the elevator shuddered to life once more. Afraid of saying something wrong that would make her change her mind, he remained silent and followed her to what appeared to be an office. Only now he was paying far more attention to his surroundings, thinking of it like a hunt now where anything and everything could happen. Inside the office, Kruger hesitated once more before pulling out the keys to a hidden safe and withdrawing a long, thin bundle wrapped in soft fabric.  
  
"Here, this is it, the key," Kruger said reverently, unwrapping one end of the staff.  
  
Dean gazed at it in wonder, realizing the end was made of gold. Only an archangel would call gold just plain metal without any further elaboration. The thought was nearly enough to make him smile, but he refrained as he reached out to touch it. All thoughts of her handing him a fake vanished the moment that he touched the key. He felt the same faint buzz that he'd always gotten from the Colt from it. It surprised him as he'd never really thought much of the sensation, assuming that it was in his head more than anything else as neither Sam nor Bobby could feel it, but now he couldn't help but wonder if it wasn't just yet another thing about him that was off. Something that he shouldn't have been able to detect.  
  
"Thank you," Dean said, taking the staff.  
  
"You are right, things have changed and I no longer know what to make of things," Kruger stated. "A new time is upon us and it is time for a new type of Keeper for the key. My people have always spoken that this day would come, but I didn't want to believe that it would be now."  
  
Great, another prophecy, that was just what he needed. "The rules are no longer what they used to be, so trust nothing that you've learned. As far as I know, the devil's trap will still hold a demon but that might change soon too."  
  
"I will be careful. Take care of the key, you are now it's Keeper."  
  
No, Heaven would be its new Keeper, but that was more than she needed to know, especially if the demons were still going to try and get the fake on display here. "I will."  
  
With that, Dean beat a hasty retreat after making sure that the staff was securely wrapped up again to shield it from prying eyes. The hair at the back of his neck was starting to stand on end and he felt like danger was lurking right around the corner. He'd been a hunter for long enough to know that this wasn't simply paranoia induced fear from Kruger's account of demons but rather something far deeper. It was his instincts kicking into full gear and he knew better than to ignore them as they'd kept him alive this long.  
  
He had to get back to Raphael and quickly.  
  
The triumph that Dean saw in Raphael's eyes as he stepped out the door of the museum cheered him on so the force that suddenly slammed into his side with all the force of a semi caught him completely off-guard and he screamed in agony as he was sent flying.


	106. Chapter 105

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean discovers what happened and finds himself in a very desperate situation.

**PAST**  
  
  
Despite the pain and shock of it all, Dean found himself twisting with the force so that when he hit the ground again he rolled instead of hitting it flat and letting his momentum send him sliding across the asphalt. It was instinct born from years of hard training with his father and decades of hunting. The other thing he did instinctively was to clutch the key tighter to his chest and he tried to end his roll with it underneath him to make it harder for anyone to steal, but before he could recover his senses enough to do anything, he was flipped and the staff ripped from his hands.  
  
"Dean!" Raphael cried out.  
  
Dean had brief glimpse of a petite blond woman standing above him before she knocked him aside with a single wave of her hand, sending him slamming into the stone side of the museum with a sickening crunch of bones. The pain was horrendous, easily worse than anything he'd had since Simiel had run him and Michael through with her sword in Stull Cemetery, but it had nothing on what he'd experienced in Hell.  
  
Simiel.  
  
The memory of what had happened during the Rite of Contressa allowed the recognition Dean had felt upon seeing the blond chick click into place. It was Simiel and that was the second time the bitch had snuck up on him and effectively benched him before he even knew what was happening. Nausea roiled through him and he tried to move his head in case he vomited but found that he really had to focus to do so. Pain stabbed at his brain and everything seemed fuzzy and distorted. Shit this wasn't just a normal concussion, he'd had enough of those in his life to instantly be able to recognize them, no this was something far, far worse. Panic flared to life within him as he tried to force his body to obey him and only got slight twitches and more agonizing pain for his efforts. This was something that he wasn't used to. He'd gotten spoiled these last few months spending so much time with not one but three archangels who seemed to consider it a personal affront if he was injured while in their presence. Or no, not even that, simply injured, period.  
  
Well that and Hell, Dean realized. Yeah, pain had never, ever stopped down there, but it had never been accompanied by this shattered awareness and haze either. It was one of the many horrors of Hell; the fact that you could never escape the pain no matter how bad it got or what your torturer did. There was no unconsciousness down there, no haze to dampen the effects of all of the torture, just pure, unblemished clarity and consciousness. Even when it would have been physically impossible to still be awake and aware up here, one still was down there. So between the instant healing these days and that particular nuance of Hell, he'd started to forget exactly how much pain could cloud the mind and muddy the awareness. Even his realization of this took far longer than it should have and that caused the panic to claw at him even more.  
  
Raphael!  
  
Yes, the guy was an archangel, but Dean could clearly recall what Michael and Castiel had said about how not all archangels were created equally and he remembered only all too well how at Stull it had taken both Raphael and Castiel to drive off Simiel. And she had the key. Those thoughts spurred him into action and he tried to ignore the pain (hey, Hell had been good for something, who knew?) and forced his meatsuit to obey his commands and move. It seemed to take ages, but he finally managed to get it moving and once that happened, it seemed easier to keep it moving. And it really couldn't be a good sign that he was starting to think of himself as an 'it.' Or was it simply that he'd come to recognize that he was truly his soul and that his meatsuit was merely a convenient and temporary housing for it much as an angel's vessel was merely a short-term receptacle for their Grace?  
  
Great, now he was starting to get philosophical, someone please shoot him now and put him out of his misery before he turned into something he really didn't recognize.  
  
When Dean finally managed to lift his head enough to see what was going on, the loud clashing sounds that had been threatening to explode his head finally made sense. Not that there would have been any doubt about their identity if he'd been thinking clearly, because  _of course_  it would be the sound of one angelic sword striking another. He knew what that sounded like and, moreover, it made  _sense_  given the circumstances. The awe of watching two angels, let alone two  _arch_ angels, engaging in deadly battle washed over him and all he could do was stare in horrified wonder and fascination before the pertinent bit of that observation finally penetrated.   
  
 _Deadly_  battle.  
  
As it was, Raphael was already bloody, a deep gash on his chest that would have had any human faltering bleeding heavily, though Dean was pleased to see that Simiel was not altogether pristine herself. Not that the cut to her upper left arm was all that damaging, but still, it was proof that Raphael could and had gotten past her guard. The area around the two was also proof that this was no normal battle as cars had been flung aside as if they were nothing but toys a child had thrown aside in the middle of a tantrum, while the sides of the buildings around were buckled and he knew one or both of the two combatants had gone crashing into them. Amazingly there was no crowd of gawking spectators despite the fact that this was by no means a deserted or forlorn part of town. Perhaps people, for once, had the good sense to flee instead of choosing to stare in horror and disbelief? Or, more likely, one of the two archangels had done something to keep onlookers away. He was tempted to accredit it to Raphael, but he doubted that Simiel wanted to be interrupted either even if she already had her prize.  
  
And what the hell had he been thinking, just waltzing the key outside right past all of the anti-angel sigils when he knew that demons were after it? While Crowley was proof that not every single demon was a lackey of Lucifer's, the vast majority of them were and he really should have thought of the fact that perhaps they'd been sent by the devil or Simiel to retrieve that which they couldn't get themselves. Stupid, idiotic mistake! It was something he was sure Michael, Castiel or Raphael would have realized if they'd learned what he had.  
  
Oh.  
  
Michael and Castiel.  
  
They would be able to help Raphael.  
  
Too bad they weren't here.  
  
Oh.  
  
 _He_  could call them.  
  
Or no, not  _them_ , at least not yet. But perhaps soon. Dean smiled as he thought of the bonding and the book Michael had given him. If he went through with that, if he and Cas got angel married, then it was possible that he'd be able to call his lover like he could his friend. Only then Castiel wouldn't be his lover anymore. He'd be his husband, or rather his angel husband. Not his angel husband in the sense that Castiel would be an angel and his husband (which he was and would be), but rather that Castiel would then be his husband by angelic standards like it would be an angel marriage instead of a human marriage. So his angel husband as well as his angel husband. See, it worked both ways.  
  
Dean frowned. If they got angel married then why wouldn't they be human married? Oh, right, of course, that had different rules and all of that. But if they got angel married then why couldn't they also get human married? They'd have to move, sure, but he hadn't been to Massachusetts for a while and they could get another apartment there, a better one and he could forge documents for Castiel. He liked forging documents, it was fun.  
  
The horrible screeching sound of metal being twisted past its limits and the tinkling of broken glass made Dean wince but drew his attention back to the two fighting archangels and he cursed his inattentiveness. He couldn't immediately spot Raphael, but based on what he'd heard and the way Simiel was stalking towards the twisted remains of the mangled car he didn't immediately recognize the make of, he could guess where the other archangel currently was. Right, this had to end now.  
  
"Michael," Dean whispered, thankful that previous experience had taught him that he didn't need to be loud to attract his friend's attention as he didn't think he could be just now.  
  
However instead of summoning help, all his cry did was make Simiel pause and turn to look at him with a perverted smile on her face. "Michael can't hear you just now, mud monkey," Simiel stated gleefully. "I didn't want our time together interrupted and took the effort of putting up a block so neither of you can call for big brother."  
  
The words horrified Dean but when Simiel took a few steps towards him, there was a roar of rage and then Raphael was flying at her and together they smashed straight through the brick side of a neighboring building. He blinked in shock as he looked at the jagged hole in the wall before the sound of clashing swords snapped him out of it. Staying conscious was becoming harder and harder so it was a good thing that he was a stubborn bastard, but if he was going to do something he would have to do it fast or he'd be completely down for the count. The only problem was that his mind seemed stuck on the 'call for Michael' option and he couldn't quite seem to get it to think of anything else. Just call for Michael, call for Michael, call for Michael.  
  
The pain was worse as he tried to move, but Dean found that it helped sharpen his awareness a little but still not enough to get past the whole 'call for Michael' thing. It took him a while to realize that his little mantra wasn't merely a repeat of what he'd already tried, and failed, to do, but rather still a valid suggestion for further action. He'd been around angels for so long that his first thought when calling for help was to rely on the bond that existed between himself and Michael as it did between all vessels and their angels. But that wasn't the only way he could call for help or even the only way that he could call for Michael. There was another way, a  _human_  way, and one that he was sure that Simiel would not have thought of in order to attempt to block it.  
  
Spurred on by the idea, Dean forced his right arm into action (from the sharp pain radiating from his left one he was pretty sure that it was broken in at least one place) and reached for his cell phone. It took a while and during that time, Raphael and Simiel had fought their way back out of the building and into his line of sight and he kept his eyes glued to them, not wanting to give the game away should Simiel glance his way. Not that he expected her to, she was as arrogant as Lucifer and probably didn't even consider him a threat. The only reason that she'd disabled him at all was because she could and he'd had something that she wanted. Well she was about to learn the mistake of that particular line of thought.  
  
All of Dean's hope shattered the moment that his fingers touched his cell and pain flared sharply in his side. Or rather he should say what remained of his cell as what he'd touched clearly wasn't a fully intact phone anymore. At least that explained why it felt like he had glass shards in his side. It wasn't glass but rather the broken pieces of his and Raphael's last hope. Fuck.  
  
Dean closed his eyes as the full weight of their situation sunk in. Here they were in South Africa of all places, cut off from both Michael and Castiel, him seriously injured and Simiel slowly taking Raphael apart. How long would it take for Michael and Castiel to realize that something wasn't right? That something had happened? He hadn't had any plans for the evening with his lover, not like they'd had the night Castiel had been trapped and attacked by Meg, so it could easily be too late before anyone figured out that something was wrong and came looking for them. And even if they were to notice it now, would it do them any good? Was Simiel strong enough to keep their presences cloaked from Michael himself? Or would his friend be able to see through her tricks and find them anyway?  
  
Not that it really mattered as he doubted that either Michael or Castiel was currently looking for them. Of all the stupid things, why did he have to put his cell in  _that_  pocket? It wasn't even the pocket he'd used to keep his phone in, no he'd used to keep his cell in the pocket on the other side where he was able to get at it just that much faster. He'd only taken to putting it in this pocket when he'd started to carry th-  
  
 _The Jewel of Abel!_  
  
His eyes snapped open again as he remembered that he'd only switched the pocket he kept his cell in because the Jewel of Abel was scratching the screen when they were kept in the same pocket. Dean hardly dared breathe as hope flared to life within him once more. His questing fingers had just closed around it when there was a cry of pain from Raphael and he looked up to see that Simiel had used the key as a weapon and had impaled one set of the archangel's wings with it, pinning them to the ground. Horror rose within him as he thought of how delicate those wings were and he wondered how on Earth Simiel had managed to use the key to do that as they should have passed straight through it. The sight propelled him into action as Simiel used the shock and pain of the action to knock Raphael's sword away, leaving the archangel defenseless.  
  
Luckily Simiel didn't seem interested in going straight for a killing blow and Dean said a quick prayer as he felt the Jewel of Abel come to life around his hand, metal strands wrapping themselves around his wrist. Driven by pure adrenaline and the knowledge that Raphael was as good as dead if he failed or was too slow, he forced his complaining body upright, not at all sure if he'd even be able to fire the Jewel but absolutely determined to at the very least try it.  
  
No. Do or do not, there is no try.  
  
Dean nearly giggled as Yoda's voice of all things drifted through his mind. What the hell was he doing thinking of blasted Star Wars of all things just now? He wasn't some fucking nerd, even if the point was a very valid one. He would not be getting a second chance at this. If he failed, or he missed, Simiel would most likely slaughter him and all that Raphael would be able to do was watch as it happened. So he had to do this right the first time or it was lights out.  
  
It seemed to take forever for Dean to get upright but since all that Simiel had done was to bring the tip of her sword to Raphael's chin to make him look at her, that was okay. Better to take just a little longer so long as she was busy gloating and generally continuing to ignore him as he was no more than a worthless and pathetic mud monkey to her. Well he'd teach her to disregard him so easily. He had a reputation to maintain after all, even if it was clear that she either hadn't heard of it or didn't think it credible. That seemed easier said than done though as his arm felt like it was made of lead and the ground was a giant magnet, determined to pull it- not to mention the rest of him- back down.  
  
All of Dean's caution flew out of the window when Simiel finally seemed to reach the end of whatever speech she was giving Raphael and drew her arm back with the clear intention of running her brother through with her sword. Through sheer determination he was able to bring the Jewel of Abel to life though it felt like it was sucking all of the remaining energy out of him into the flash of light that shot from his palm.  
  
Instead of being able to see if he'd hit his target, Dean was abruptly reminded of the kickback of the Jewel as he was lifted clear off his feet and flung backwards in into the stone side of the museum and everything went black.


	107. Chapter 106

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel arrives at the museum.

PAST  
  
  
 _"Michael! Castiel!"_  
  
The call from Raphael came as Castiel was reviewing Belliel's latest selection of books from Heaven's vast library that might be of use to them. The sense of urgency from his normally calm brother had him abandoning his task at once and flying straight off to Raphael's side, drawing his sword as he went.  
  
The moment Castiel landed, he knew he'd been right to arrive prepared. The immediate area was a war zone and he was thankful for his current status as an archangel when he caught sight of Simiel. She stood unsteadily next to a dented wall and her face twisted in anger and hate when she caught sight of him and then Michael when the eldest archangel arrived. Before he could even think of saying something, she fled, clearly not prepared to face them all. He glanced towards Raphael and winced in sympathy as he caught sight of his brother's condition, his own wings throbbing in remembered pain from his recent injuries. Seeing Michael attending to Raphael, he flew to Simiel's last spot hoping to be able to track her.  
  
If they were able to either capture or kill her before Lucifer managed to free himself from the restrictions of the Rite of Contressa, then it would change things in their favor significantly. Castiel was already preparing to call Xarael to get him some back-up when Raphael called out.  
  
"Castiel, no!"  
  
"I am not going alone, Brother. But this is an opportunity we cannot let pass."  
  
"Dean-"  
  
Even though Raphael was cut off by a gasp of pain as Michael probed at the staff impaling their brother's left wings to the ground, it was more than enough to capture Castiel's full attention and he was by Raphael's side in an instant.  
  
"Dean, what?" Castiel demanded urgently. "Is she going after him?"  
  
Not waiting for an answer, Castiel reached out for his mate, realizing exactly how close Dean was just as Raphael shook his head and pointed towards the right. He whirled around and froze as he caught sight of his hunter lying broken up against the museum's outer wall. For a moment he could only stare in horror at the red stain on the wall and the rapidly forming pool of blood beneath his mate's too still body. The startled and dismayed sound Michael made snapped him out of his daze and he flew straight to Dean's side.  
  
From close his mate looked even worse and Castiel made a wounded sound as he sank to his knees next to Dean. The tumultuous flickering and swirling of his mate's bright soul proved that his hunter was not only still alive, but fighting as well. That inherent stubbornness drew a fleeting smile before the horror of what he was seeing swiftly overcame it.  
  
Gently, Castiel reached out to brush two fingers over Dean's forehead, firmly pushing his precious mate under further, beyond where the pain could reach him. He didn't want his hunter to wake until Dean was fully healed. As expected, his mate fought his push at first but once his Grace was recognized, Dean seemed no longer able to fight off the desire to sink deeper, further away from the agony of his body's injuries. The brief touch with his mate's soul soothed him a little but it didn't last long as a closer inspection of his hunter's injuries caused fury to come alive within him. Though he was pleased that Raphael had stopped him from taking off after Simiel, he desperately wished that he'd managed to stop her from fleeing at all. She would pay for this and for the first time ever he found himself wanting to inflict some of what he'd witnessed in Perdition on one of his own siblings. What she had done to his mate was inexcusable and she'd have known that Dean was an angelic mate as his hunter smelled of him thanks to his wing oil.  
  
Those thoughts were halted in their tracks as Castiel discovered the extent of the damage done to the back of Dean's head. He'd known it would be bad from the blood on the wall and the sticky mess in his mate's hair, but this was even worse than he'd feared. Dean's skull had been fractured and some of the smaller shards of bone had actually been driven into the brain and he moaned at the discovery. The human brain was notoriously fragile and he didn't have enough Healer knowledge to feel confident about attempting to heal it himself. Not on his mate. Instead he turned his attention to the rest of Dean's injuries, hoping his skills weren't inadequate to the task there.  
  
They weren't.  
  
Altogether, Castiel found two breaks in his mate's left arm, countless fractures throughout Dean's body, several cracked vertebras and ribs, a cracked cheekbone, two broken ribs, lacerations with embedded foreign objects on the left side of the abdomen and severe deep tissue bruising with swelling around his spine. He healed as much of it as he could, hesitating a little at the spinal column as he sensed the damage to the underlying nerves. They weren't quite as delicate as the brain but it was still close. Forcing himself to be calm, he thought back to when he'd rebuilt Dean's body that first time. The lack of damage to his brain and spine beyond that caused by decay had allowed him to rebuild his mate on his own and he used that experience to guide him now. He was able to heal most of the damaged nerves, but there were a few towards the base of the spine, near the cracked tailbone, which he dared not touch for fear of healing them incorrectly and causing his mate lasting damage.  
  
As Castiel worked, he had to force aside his rage at Simiel but that only allowed his mind to start wondering about how Dean had come to be here in the first place. They were far too far away from where he'd left his mate for Dean to have gotten here on his own and Simiel would have either killed his mate or taken his hunter straight to Lucifer, which meant that it hadn't been her. Which left only Raphael. His brother had to have been the one to bring Dean here and that meant that Raphael should have been here when Simiel had first attacked his mate. So where had his brother been while Dean had been injured? The Jewel of Abel adorning his mate's hand meant that his hunter had had time to at least try and defend himself so it couldn't have happened too quickly.  
  
"Castiel," Michael said.  
  
Instinctively Castiel looked towards his oldest brother and caught sight of Raphael beside him. Without even thinking about it, he launched himself at his brother, ending up on top of Raphael, pinning his brother to the ground.  
  
"Castiel!" Michael called out, suddenly beside him.  
  
"Where were you?" Castiel growled, ignoring Michael's restraining hands. "Why did you bring Dean here?"  
  
"They were getting a key for the local gateway to Perdition," Michael explained, brandishing the staff that had been impaling Raphael earlier.  
  
"Why Dean?"  
  
"I couldn't get it," Raphael explained, gesturing to the side.  
  
Reluctantly Castiel followed the gesture and caught sight of the sigils covering the museum walls and he knew instantly what his brother meant. The knowledge that he would have done the same as Raphael and turned to his mate didn't do much to douse his anger as Dean had never been this severely injured while with him. And it still didn't answer his first question.  
  
"Where were you? Simiel could not have gotten Dean while he was inside," Castiel pushed.  
  
"She came out of nowhere," Raphael replied, hands held up placatingly and wings spread wide. "She must have known about the key and either had the museum under surveillance or placed a ward which we triggered. Either way she knew the moment that Dean left the protection of the wards and was on him before we even knew she was here."  
  
"If she attacked so unexpectedly then how did Dean manage to get the Jewel of Abel on?"  
  
"He didn't, not then. Simiel knocked him down with her first blow which allowed her to grab the key from Dean before he even knew what had happened. Once she had that, she flung him aside into the wall at which point I was on her."  
  
"Then how did Dean come to have the Jewel on?" Michael questioned.  
  
"He must have done that while Simiel and I were fighting," Raphael replied, not taking his eyes off of Castiel. "Brother, please, let me see to him, I can help him."  
  
"You are injured yourself," Michael pointed out.  
  
"Castiel, Brother, please."  
  
Part of Castiel didn't want to allow Raphael anywhere near his mate, his instincts screaming at him to keep Dean away from the one who had brought him here in the first place, but it clashed with the part of him that knew that Raphael was the best Healer they had and therefore his mate's best chance of being fully healed. The way his brother also lay unresisting beneath him, wings spread wide and vulnerable also told him that whatever had happened here, Raphael had never intended for Dean to get hurt and his brother was willing to take whatever he saw fit as punishment.  
  
"He saved my life, Castiel," Raphael continued. "He used the Jewel of Abel not to defend himself but to stop Simiel from killing me. She was blocking his connection to Michael and my ability to call you and she had disarmed me. If it weren't for your mate, Simiel would have killed me. Please let me thank him by healing him."  
  
The sincerity in his brother's voice and his own desire to see Dean fully healed had Castiel moving off of Raphael. He was unable to bring himself to move far though and ended up hovering over his brother and mate while Raphael carefully inspected Dean's remaining injuries. Michael came to stand beside him and while his brother didn't say anything, the hand on his shoulder was enough. He took strength from it and tried to distract himself so that he wouldn't keep interrupting Raphael to ask why he wasn't done yet. The last thing he wanted to do was distract his brother at a critical moment. Inevitably, his attention shifted to Raphael's wings where his brother's own injuries still remained. As they were severe wounds to his true form, they would take a while to heal even if Raphael had returned to Heaven immediately with Michael's help. The fact that his brother had chosen to remain here and see to Dean first said a lot and he was pleased at what it meant. They had all come far and it gave him great hope that they could win this war.  
  
"There," Raphael finally stated. "The rest you can finish for him, Brother."  
  
"His spine-" Castiel began.  
  
"I have taken care of that too."  
  
"Thank you, Brother."  
  
"He saved my life, it was the least I could do."  
  
Immediately, Castiel reached out and used his own Grace to heal the last parts of the wounds, gathering his mate up in his arms as soon as he was done and cradling him close. It felt reassuring to have Dean's slight weight in his arms even if it always struck him as strange because his hunter's presence was so strong and powerful that he felt like his mate should be heavier. It was one of his Father's many little mysteries. Just like Dean's stubborn will, his mate hadn't even been fully healed for a minute and yet already his hunter was fighting to wake from his sleep.  
  
"I need to get Raphael back to the Healers and secure the key," Michael said.  
  
"Very well, I shall take Dean home," Castiel replied.  
  
"Tell him I am sorry for what happened," Raphael stated, resting his hand briefly on the back of Dean's head.  
  
"I will."  
  
After a second's hesitation, Michael leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Dean's forehead and Castiel blinked in surprise, more bemused than anything else at the unexpected action. His thoughts on the matter were derailed as with a flare of his soul, his mate suddenly surfaced.  
  
"Dude!" Dean complained at the treatment and when Michael had pulled back enough for him to see his mate's face, Castiel caught sight of his hunter's scowl.  
  
"Hello, Little One," Michael merely responded.  
  
"'m not a chick."  
  
"Indeed you are not, you are a human."  
  
The reply clearly threw Dean and Michael had used the opportunity to vanish with Raphael before his mate could decide whether the archangel had been serious or not. It made Castiel smile as he got to his feet.  
  
"Hey!" Dean protested as he discovered his position. "Cas, put me down!"  
  
"No," Castiel declared firmly, tightening his hold on his mate.  
  
The word had come out harsher than he'd intended and Dean's eyes flashed to his face and Castiel could read surprise and the beginnings of understanding dawning there.  
  
"Is there anything of yours here that you require?"  
  
Dean's eyes darted about before he shook his head. "No, but aren't you going to, you know, clean up a little here first?"  
  
"No."  
  
With that, Castiel took flight holding his mate's fragile form tightly to himself as he returned them to their bedroom. When they arrived, Dean was watching him closely, a peculiar look on his face and it was with great reluctance that he set his mate back on his feet, wanting to keep him close to ensure that nothing else happened to Dean.  
  
"I'm sorry," Dean said and Castiel pulled him down, kissing him fiercely.  
  
"It wasn't your fault," Castiel replied when he pulled back so his mate could breathe. "Raphael explained what happened."  
  
"I'm still sorry for worrying you."  
  
The temptation to reach up and touch the back of Dean's head was too hard to resist, so Castiel didn't. "I couldn't heal you. Your brain... it was..."  
  
"My brain?" Dean repeated stunned.  
  
"Your skull had fractured and some of the bone shards-"  
  
This time Dean was the one to kiss him and Castiel reacted aggressively, vanished both of their clothes and pushing his mate backwards until they tumbled down onto their bed. There he wasted no time in claiming his hunter, getting Dean hard and leaking quickly. He brought his wings around them as he milked his own oil glands to prepare his mate for him. With Dean so alive and wanton beneath him, it became far easier to forget how his mate had been such a short while ago. Just as he was ready to take Dean, though, his mate stopped reacting and began pushing at him instead, seeking to roll them. He made a small noise of protest but allowed the movement, all too aware that Dean had only just been on the wrong end of an archangel's strength and knowing that now was not one of those times where his mate would appreciate his ability to hold him down so easily.  
  
Instead Castiel shoved aside the desire to bury himself deep in his mate, to claim him and reassure himself that Dean was okay, and prepared to do whatever his hunter needed of him. When Dean slicked his fingers with oil, he assumed that his mate wanted to take him and was therefore startled when Dean reached for his cock instead of his entrance.  
  
"Dean?" Castiel questioned, not sure what was happening.  
  
"Shh, just using a new position," Dean explained, trembling once. "I just, I can't be underneath at the moment."  
  
A new position. Castiel still wasn't sure what his mate had planned, but he decided to wait and see instead of asking. He pulled Dean down for another kiss, letting his hands roam over his mate's body, feeling the undulating of it as his own hips jerked slightly in response to the hand slicking his cock with his own oil. He voiced a protest when Dean pulled back but it quickly died when his mate lifted himself slightly and the hand on his cock guided it to his hunter's slicked entrance. Realization dawned just before Dean sank down on his cock and he threw his head back as the tight heat engulfed him. When hands came to rest on his chest, he opened his eyes once more and glanced back at his mate.  
  
The sight of Dean seated on him, his cock as far as it could go inside his mate, made Castiel moan and his wings closed over them just as Dean began to move. He quickly caught onto his hunter's rhythm and began to thrust up as Dean sank back down onto him, his hands settling on his mate's hips. Dean moaned, soon covered in a light sweat due to the effort. He managed to draw a cry from Dean when he tilted his hips slightly and he smiled, shifting his wings so some of them caressed the front of his mate, paying particular attention to his sensitive nipples.  
  
"Cas!" Dean moaned, arching.  
  
Castiel found himself unable to tear his eyes from his mate as he reached down and took hold of Dean's neglected cock. The action drew more moans and his hunter opened his green eyes enough to look at him and their gazes locked. The moment of connection seemed to stretch with Dean riding him until pleasure engulfed his mate as Dean came, clenching down around him. His grip on his hunter's hips tightened and he flipped them back around while remaining deep instead of him. He found Dean's lips for a heated kiss as he continued to thrust into his mate's welcoming body before he finally came as well, stilling deep inside of Dean. He stayed like that for a moment before he rolled them once again so his mate could be on top.  
  
As Dean drifted off, Castiel was unable to resist bringing his hand up to cradle the back of his mate's head to assure himself that everything was now okay.


	108. Chapter 107

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam tries to figure out how Dean and Cas came to be with Michael and Raphael.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
"Mom's?" Sam questioned, stunned.  
  
"Yes," Castiel confirmed, eyes trained on Samuel.  
  
Sam couldn't help but wonder what the angel thought their grandfather would do. Yes, Samuel had reacted poorly to catching sight of the bracelet, but who could blame the old man? That wasn't exactly something Samuel could have expected to see on Dean of all people, not given their past and the fact that Mom had died so long ago and most of her things had been lost in the fire. Even he'd never have expected to see that on his brother if he'd known about its existence.  
  
Trust Dean to wear it though, regardless of how it made him look. Sam snorted as he thought of how his brother kept calling him a chick. At least he didn't go around wearing feminine jewellery!  
  
"Where... how did you get that?" Samuel asked.  
  
"I didn't, Cas did, for Christmas," Dean replied.  
  
"Christmas?" Sam repeated. "But we don't even have the right date for Jesus' birth!"  
  
"Yes, but it is still an important human holiday," Castiel replied.  
  
"I didn't think that you of all people would pander to that."  
  
"It's something that's important to Dean."  
  
Of course. He really should have seen that one coming, Sam knew. In the end, pretty much everything that Castiel did came right back down to Dean. It was like the angel couldn't think for himself, which kinda made sense, Castiel being an angel and all. He just didn't get how anyone could transfer that kind of faith from God to his brother of all people,  _especially_  an angel. Castiel should know better than any human just how flawed that Dean was. Hell, his brother embraced two of the seven deadly sins as if they were tailor-made for him.  
  
Maybe the answer was that Castiel was just as flawed as Dean. Sam paused as he pondered this new thought for a moment. That was actually a surprisingly possible theory. Castiel was unlike any other angel he'd ever met after all, he'd just always assumed that was a good thing as it meant that Castiel had helped them in the past. But maybe that was all a result of some failing. Once the mere thought of angels having failings would have made Sam scoff but now it was almost gospel as far as he was concerned. He'd seen the flaws in enough other angels to be convinced of the fact, so why not Castiel as well? The angel had been to Hell, after all, perhaps something had happened to Castiel there that had irrevocably tainted his Grace or something, not to mention the fact that the angel had then gone and grabbed Dean's tarnished soul and held it tight. Given Castiel's seemingly blind faith in Dean and his brother's supposed prophesized destiny, he wouldn't be surprised if the angel had allowed Dean's soul too close to his Grace which had gotten further tainted from it. He'd always known his big brother would ruin any purity that Dean could. The guy loved to tempt people into giving into what Dean thought their vices were.  
  
That line of thought was derailed as something occurred to Sam.  _Dean's supposed prophesized destiny_ , that's what he'd thought and it had been automatic, but now he could hit himself. Why on Earth hadn't he thought of that before? Why had it never occurred to him since their desperate dash to Cicero or even before that immediately after his resurrection? The prophecy. Yeah, sure, he now knew it was nothing but crap, a mere tool in the large repertoire of ways for Heaven to use and manipulate them into doing exactly what the angels wanted them to do, but the angels sure loved to blow their own trumpets and in this case they did, namely in the form of Chuck and his books.  
  
The prophet had seen practically everything they had done before so there was no reason to think that Chuck wasn't still getting those visions and, given how Dean was Heaven's golden boy, it was a pretty safe assumption that his brother would be the focus of those visions. The thought annoyed him despite the fact that he really didn't want Chuck to still be able to see everything that he said and did.  
  
It just wasn't fair. It was a thought that Sam had often had, but it was still something that he couldn't figure out. Why had Dean been destined for Michael and he for Lucifer? He'd always been the one to believe in God and to pray regularly. Not only had his brother never done either of those things, but Dean had gone out of his way to be blasphemous and generally disrespectful of God and religion as a whole. It had been something that he'd never been able to understand given their line of work and the fact that his brother regularly used and relied on Holy water. Surely the very fact that Holy water worked on demons should have been proof enough that there was a God out there. But no, his brother had needed to be stubborn.  
  
Well now things were different and Sam could have kicked himself for not thinking of using Chuck to track down his wayward brother. Now that he'd thought of it, though, he was not going to make the same mistake twice. Yes, he was now in contact with Dean, but it was clear that his brother was still hiding things from them and he was sick and tired of essentially being at Dean's beck and call. His brother had always felt the need to be in control, treating him like a little child and it was high time that it stopped. He'd more than proven himself over the years and especially with their most recent job together. He'd managed to overcome the devil himself and lock Lucifer up. Sure it turned out that it hadn't been a permanent solution, but it sure as hell had bought them a lot of time. And it would have been even more time if Dean hadn't been stupid enough to keep the truth to himself about the destabilization of the cage.  
  
No, this current mess was all on his brother, Sam knew. If Dean had overcome his ego long enough to find him and tell him the truth, then they could have found a way to stabilize the cage and prevented Lucifer and Michael from getting free once more. Of course by now Dean was too far under Michael's influence to see that and he was sure that even if his brother wasn't Michael's pet just now that Dean would still find a way to twist things around so that it wasn't his fault. His brother was very good at that.  
  
"But how did you find it?" Gwen inquired. "It must have been like finding a needle in a haystack."  
  
Sam blinked, trying to reorient himself. Hardly any time had passed while his mind had raced along, but he'd gotten so far from his original thought that it took him a second to remember that they were talking about Dean's bracelet. Or rather Mom's bracelet that Castiel had gotten for Dean. For Christmas. And wasn't that just gay? His brother would need to be careful or people were going to start mistaking him and Castiel for a couple. The thought made him want to laugh and he had to bite his lip to keep it from slipping out. He could just imagine the horrified look on Dean's face and he was so tempted to say it just for that, but a part of him would really rather that it happened to his brother and his only regret was that in all likelihood he wouldn't be there to see it happen.  
  
"It was a difficult task, but the heavy protections on it made it easier to track and I knew that it would mean a lot to Dean to have something of his mother's," Castiel replied, glancing away from Samuel long enough to look at Dean.  
  
The action abruptly reminded Sam of the way that Castiel had been watching Samuel and he now wondered if Raphael was doing the same, given the way that the archangel had attacked his grandfather earlier.  
  
Sam didn't quite want to stare at the archangel for fear of how Raphael would take it, but he found it a hard temptation to resist. The guy was an  _archangel_  after all and, unlike Gabriel, wasn't trying to act human. If he'd ever thought Castiel scary or alien, his former friend had  _nothing_  on the archangel, but then that really made sense. Castiel had never quite told them what type of angel he was, but he'd always pegged the guy as a Seraph or common foot soldier. Certainly Castiel had never seemed particularly strong when compared to the other angels they'd met up with. So on that account he could see why Dean might have wanted to hook up with an archangel, they were so incredibly powerful after all, and probably the only beings who could have some kind of chance against Lucifer.  
  
He shuddered at the thought of the devil and his power. Sam could still recall the feel of it whenever he'd been aware while with Lucifer. He hadn't always been aware and, if as much time had passed as he thought had, then he'd only been aware for a fraction of it, but that fraction had been more than enough. The thought of it still made him feel dirty and just now he could understand why he might not be considered clean enough for whatever spell Castiel and the others wanted to perform on him. But it wasn't his fault. Sure, he'd said yes to Lucifer, but as part of a strategic plan and not because he'd broken as Dean had when his brother had tried to say yes to Michael, or rather rebroken really as Dean had done it once already. But then that made sense, once broken things were never as strong as before, so he should have seen it coming instead of allowing his brother to blind and misdirect him to the truth. Well it wouldn't happen again, he wouldn't let it happen again. From the moment that he'd first realized what had happened, he'd decided that he wasn't going to let sentimentality blind him to Dean's very real weaknesses and limitations again. Castiel may have stitched his brother back together again, and the angel had done a fantastic job no doubt about it, but the fact still remained that Dean was now damaged goods. There were stress fractures and old breaks where his brother could easily be rebroken once more. And maybe that was what had already happened to make Dean be with Michael and Raphael. It would definitely explain a few things. After all if his brother had once been ready to cave and say yes to Michael then he couldn't imagine that it would be terribly difficult to convince Dean to work with the guy if Michael said the right things. It could all still be like what he'd thought before, that this was Michael and Raphael's way of softening up his brother in preparation for asking him to be Michael's vessel. It all made sense, even Castiel's involvement in the plan as the angel had made the mistake of returning to Heaven after he himself had managed to lock up Lucifer.  
  
The memory of how much Castiel had changed the last time he'd been recalled to Heaven told Sam that he was right. If Zachariah had managed to brainwash Castiel enough to think that bringing on the Apocalypse was a good idea then he figured the poor bastard hadn't stood a chance against Raphael alone, but when Michael had broken out as well... Yeah, that was why Castiel had been so cold to him since Stull Cemetery and why the angel hadn't answered his prayers when he'd been resurrected. His friend was gone, was essentially dead, and this cold, detached being that was left was just another cookie cutter Seraph who lived to obey Heaven's commands unthinkingly. Oh he was sure that this Castiel was able to act enough like what their old friend had been like, otherwise Dean would have bailed a long time ago, but he knew how much his brother could delude himself into thinking that things he didn't like simply weren't true. Dean was a master at denial and with Castiel's acting his brother had probably managed to twist things to suit whatever fantasy he wanted to believe.  
  
All of which meant that a visit to Chuck was pretty much essential in the very near future. Sam just wasn't sure if he should tell Bobby about it as he'd seen the way his brother had looked at the older man and it made him suspicious of exactly what had gone on between Dean and Bobby when his brother had visited shortly after their meeting in the desert. Yes he wouldn't normally peg Bobby as being the gullible type, but the hunter had always had a soft spot for Dean and combined with the guilt that Bobby just couldn't seem to shake it left his friend open to being manipulated. He only wished that he could be sure of being given an impartial audience if he were to speak with his friend about it, but he knew that was unlikely. As much as Bobby might like to pretend that he cared about them both, he knew that Dean was the favorite. Even now that still managed to rankle as he had never been able to understand it.  
  
Bobby had always been all about research and the importance of knowing exactly what it was that you were hunting before you actually went out after it. Which was the exact opposite of Dean, who was far too much like Dad with their father's "research some and then barge on and deal with it" attitude. Therefore his own love of research and cooler, more rational head should have endeared him to the other hunter far more than his brother ever could like it had with Pastor Jim, but it hadn't and he still couldn't understand it. Oh it wasn't like Bobby went out of his way to favor Dean, but he'd always been able to tell as the older man had gotten this look in his eyes when dealing with his brother, especially when Dean was being particularly difficult and digging in his heels for no reason whatsoever.  
  
On the other hand, it might do Bobby good to go with them to Chuck and learn the truth of what Dean was really up to. It might force the older hunter to see what was actually going on. The more Sam thought about it, the more he liked that idea though he knew that he'd have to conceal their true destination until they got there as he didn't want Bobby taking it upon himself to let Dean know what he had planned as the last thing he needed was to deal with another of his brother's hissy fits or, even worse, have Raphael interfere and whisk Chuck away to an unknown location before he got to ask his questions.


	109. Chapter 108

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel isn't completely over what happened just yet, so Dean decides to take further action.

**PAST**  
  
  
The first thing that Dean became aware of when he woke was the warmth at his back and the arm and wings wrapped around his waist. He shifted his head just enough so that it rubbed up against the feathers near his face before settling down once more, perfectly content to stay in bed for a while longer. His movement had, however, alerted his lover to the fact that he was now awake and Castiel shifted slightly himself. It was enough to tell him that his angel had his face pressed into the back of his head and neck.  
  
Dean shivered once as he realized that even now Castiel was rubbing his nose to the base of his skull as it abruptly reminded him of what had happened yesterday in Cape Town. Not only did the reminder serve to chase away any lingering vestiges of sleep, but the fact that his lover was still so clearly affected by it forced him to act. He rolled around so he was lying on his back which brought him face to face with Castiel. Literally.  
  
"Morning, Cas," Dean said, stealing a quick, lazy kiss.  
  
"Dean," Castiel breathed, gaze as intense as his angel's hands were tight where they held him like he'd vanish at any moment.  
  
"Hey, it's okay, I'm fine, Cas. Thanks to you and Raph, I'm fine."  
  
Instead of replying, Castiel pressed closer, burying his face in Dean's neck and he wasn't quite sure what to do. At first he merely hugged his angel tight, running soothing hands over Castiel's back and wings but when he felt his angel essentially scenting him before he felt the quick touch of a tongue he knew he'd have to be more active about it. Obviously his lover was having a hard time getting past what had happened and he figured that the best way to prove to Castiel that he was alright despite it all was to go about business as normal.  
  
"Come on, I've got to use the bathroom, Cas," Dean said, feeling his lover still in his arms as he waited for a heartbeat. "Want to join me for a shower?"  
  
Not only was a shower likely to lead to other things that would prove exactly how fine he was to his angel, but it would also give Castiel a convenient excuse to run hands all over his body so his lover could assure himself that everything was okay. Besides, Dean liked the idea of getting his angel all wet, Castiel's kink had really rubbed off on him.  
  
The next thing Dean knew, they were standing in the bathroom and he laughed when his lover gave him a little shove towards the toilet, accompanied by a quick grope of his ass, before Castiel turned his attention to the shower. Well he'd definitely made the right suggestion and his laugh turned into a smile that only grew when he stepped under the warm spray that was just how he liked it. His lover watched him for a few seconds before Castiel gave into temptation and stepped closer to touch him. The urgency from last night was gone but in its place was an intensity that was unusual even for them and he felt it right down to his soul with every reverent touch and kiss.  
  
Sexual urgency eventually did rise within them and Dean sank gracefully to his knees and sucked at the base of his lover's cock.  
  
"Dean!" Castiel cried out, hands finding their way into his wet hair.  
  
Dean grinned, resisting the light tugging and taking his time instead with kitten licks and soft, teasing touches that were nowhere near enough for his angel. He also made use of his day-old stubble to rub his cheek against Castiel's sensitive inner thigh. If his lover were human, he'd be leaving his mark in annoying beard burn, but luckily he didn't have to worry about that with his angel.  
  
"Want something?" Dean questioned teasingly as he licked pre-cum from the tip of Castiel's cock and glanced up at his lover from under his lashes.  
  
His angel growled at him, Castiel's hips bucking slightly. "Dean, please!"  
  
"Well since you ask so nicely."  
  
It was the only warning Dean gave before he wrapped his lips around the head of Castiel's cock and sucked hard. His lover whined, hands tightening in his hair but not pulling. Not quite sure what had come over him, he didn't immediately take the rest of his angel in, instead choosing to continue teasing Castiel and enjoying the wonderful noises his lover made. He also kept glancing up, knowing it drove Castiel mad and loving the sight of his angel like this; naked, wet, wings twitching helplessly and face glazed over with pleasure. Eventually though the growl that Castiel made along with his own growing urgency had him swallowing his lover as far in as he could (which had gotten far better due to all the practice he'd gotten these past few months) and he started licking and sucking in earnest.  
  
When Castiel finally came, Dean swallowed as much of it as he could before rising and claiming his lover's mouth in a dirty kiss, making sure his angel could taste himself in his mouth. The action earned him another low growl as he was pushed up against the tiles, his hard cock trapped between them as Castiel devoured him. He made an involuntary little noise in the back of his throat but his lover ignored him, seemingly determined to find his tonsils. When Castiel finally pulled back, he was so short of breath that little black dots danced in front of his eyes, but it only served to make his arousal that much stronger and his hips bucked in quick little jerks against his angel, desperately seeking some friction.  
  
"I should make you beg for it," Castiel growled, voice even lower than normal, gravely and deep and wrecked with pleasure.  
  
Dean gasped, catching a mewl before it escaped him as his lover refused to do more than trap his cock between their slick bodies. Then Castiel was stepping back and this time a sound did get away from him, but then his angel had spun him around and pulled him back against him so they were pressed together, chest to back. He'd have protested except that a hand snaked down to his crotch and took hold of him. His hips bucked and he threw his head back, resting it on Castiel's shoulder. His angel took the opportunity to nip at his exposed throat while giving him slow, lazy strokes that only served to drive him mad without bringing him any closer to release.  
  
"Tease," Dean accused.  
  
"I learned from the best," Castiel replied. "And I am satisfied for now, so I could do this for a while."  
  
Oh great, he'd created a monster. Dean groaned and tried to decide if begging would help or merely amuse his angel.  
  
"Open your eyes, Dean," Castiel prompted. "Look."  
  
Curious, Dean lowered his head a little and opened his eyes. There, through the water splattered glass partition, he could see the large mirror above the counter and sink. He'd always found it a bit creepy (after all who needed a mirror that large?), but now he could only moan as he caught sight of their reflection in it. There he stood, cock hard and red, leaning back against Castiel who had one hand wrapped around his erection and the other running across his chest. His lover's face was in profile as Castiel continued to whisper dirty things into his ear, but it was his angel's wings that really caught his attention. The inner most set of wings was hovering just outside of touching distance, bracketing their reflection. The next set of wings was hovering a little further out and the next set a little bit further right out to the outer most set of wings which were arched high and wide behind Castiel's back.  
  
A mewl escaped Dean at the sight but he couldn't bring himself to care, eyes riveted on the sight before him. Overhead the shower continued to spray them with water that ran in rivulets down their bodies, tracing and highlighting muscles as they moved frantically against each other. Even as his climax neared with the increased pressure Castiel gave him, he found that he couldn't tear his eyes from the sight they made, eyes narrowing instead as the pleasure increased before it peaked and he came with a hoarse cry.  
  
In the mirror Dean could see himself go boneless, could see the way his lover's arm tightened around his waist to keep him upright and he smiled before he finally tore his eyes away from the sight so he could roll his head and kiss Castiel.  
  
"Mmm, love you," Dean said.  
  
"I love you too," Castiel replied happily.  
  
When his angel reached for the shower gel and washcloth, Dean watched in bemusement. He'd known that Castiel would do it and it had been part of the reason why he'd suggested the shower in the first place, but he still didn't get it. His lover could clean him with a touch so he just didn't get why Castiel enjoyed doing this so much the human way. It couldn't just be a desire for intimacy as they did plenty of that and his angel knew that he could touch him whenever he wanted, so he just didn't get it. But it definitely seemed to make Castiel happy and he relished the attention, so it wasn't like it was a hardship to anyone, but he just didn't get it.  
  
"You're thinking too much," Castiel admonished as he began to wash him.  
  
Dean laughed before he tilted his head, consideringly. "You use contractions."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Contractions, like you're instead of you are, you use them."  
  
Castiel paused for a moment to consider this before he nodded once. "Yes, I suppose I do. Why?"  
  
"Mike and Raph don't, at least not as far as I can remember. Nor did you, before."  
  
"That's because you've been a bad influence on me."  
  
"Hey!"  
  
Playfully, Dean gave his lover a little shove but Castiel merely used the opportunity to grab his arm and spin him around so that his angel could reach his back. He laughed but subsided, remembering why they were here just now in the first place. And besides, his stomach was most definitely waking up and he knew that Castiel would want to finish this task before letting him out of the shower, angelic cleaning powers or not. Pesky perfectionist angel. He yelped and jumped involuntarily as Castiel's teeth nipped the back of his neck.  
  
"You know, eavesdroppers never hear anything good about themselves," Dean muttered.  
  


* * *

  
  
"Heya, Mike," Dean greeted as he glanced up from the stove to see who had just flown in.  
  
"Little One," Michael replied before looking towards Castiel. "Brother."  
  
"Michael," Castiel said.  
  
"What are you doing?" Michael asked coming to stand beside him.  
  
"Making pancakes," Dean responded cheerfully. "Do you want to try one?"  
  
"What are they?"  
  
"A breakfast food, they're really good," Castiel explained from where he was finishing one. "You should try one, Brother."  
  
"Very well."  
  
Dean beamed at his friend, pleased at how far the archangel had come. Michael must have really enjoyed the pie to be so willing to try something else. "Great! Chocolate chip or blueberry?"  
  
"I thought you said they were pancakes."  
  
"Yes, but do you want one with chocolate chips in them or blueberries?"  
  
"I see. Which do you prefer?"  
  
"Chocolate chips," Castiel answered for him with a significant glance in his direction.  
  
"Hey, at least I'm admitting to liking the blueberry ones," Dean replied, waving his fork with the last bite of a blueberry pancake on it. "That's more than you'd have gotten before. Besides, chocolate rules, you can't beat chocolate."  
  
"I shall try the chocolate ones then," Michael stated.  
  
Something about the tone of the reply made Dean frown and he glanced at his friend again. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something was definitely off. Not in a really bad way, though, and he knew that Michael would never have been able to get into the apartment if anything really untoward had happened to him or if, Heaven forbid, the archangel had been evicted from his aunt's body and something else had taken his place. And that was not even considering the fact that Castiel would have known instantly that it wasn't his brother standing there with them, but something was still off. Much as he wanted to pry, he hated it when people did that to him, so he kept his mouth shut, for now at least. If this went on for a while then he'd just have to do something about it, but not just yet.  
  
Instead Dean flipped the blueberry pancake he was making onto Castiel's plate and handed it to his lover. Then he grabbed the mixing bowl with the remaining chocolate chip batter and poured some into the pan, explaining everything to Michael who stood close beside him, watching in genuine curiosity. He couldn't help crowing in triumph later when his friend's face morphed into a look of surprise and delight after Castiel had showed Michael how to prepare the pancake with maple syrup before trying it.  
  
"This is nearly as good as the pie," Michael stated.  
  
"I knew you'd like it," Dean said. "Do you want another one?"  
  
"Yes, please."  
  
The extra pancakes that Dean had originally planned on putting in the fridge for snacking on later were quickly eaten though he still managed to eat enough to feel pleasantly full despite the unexpected guest. With a happy sigh, he leaned back in his chair, reaching out automatically to straighten an errant feather on his lover's closest wing.  
  
"You are feeling better?" Michael asked, watching him finish his coffee.  
  
"Yep, good as new."  
  
"How is Raphael faring?" Castiel inquired.  
  
"He is sufficiently healed to be causing a nuisance of himself so I have brought him some of the books that need looking through."  
  
Dean winced in sympathy, more than understanding the up the wall feeling that being cooped up in bed or a hospital could induce. Poor guy.  
  
"Unfortunately I also come bearing bad news," Michael continued.  
  
"Bad news?" Dean repeated with a sinking sensation.  
  
"Yes, Lucifer has made his first significant strike."


	110. Chapter 109

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Lucifer has made his first significant strike."

**PAST**  
  
  
" _What?_ " Dean demanded, incredulous. "When? Where? And how? I thought he couldn't with the Rite of Contressa or has he broken it already?"  
  
"No, he appeared in his true form and caused extensive damage that way," Michael replied.  
  
"That would have drained him significantly," Castiel stated before he frowned. "Why wasn't I informed of this?"  
  
"Things transpired very quickly and I happened to be with the Virtues at the time and thus arrived at the scene quickly. As soon as I did so Lucifer fled knowing that he no longer had enough power left to face me directly, even without me being in my true vessel."  
  
"What did he do and where?" Dean asked again.  
  
"He opened the gateway to Perdition on Devil's Island, or at least one of his demons or Simiel did and then Lucifer arrived and destroyed the entire area including the surrounding islands."  
  
Dean could only stare in shock for a moment, the news so unexpected and horrific that it took a short while to process. "Were the islands inhabited?"  
  
"There were people there, yes, tourists among them."  
  
"Dean?" Castiel questioned as Dean leapt to his feet.  
  
"Laptop," Dean explained, grabbing it and surfing straight to the CNN website.  
  
There was already amateur footage up of the events although luckily the cameraman hadn't caught anything too immediately supernatural. Or at least not for those who didn't know about what was really out there. Hunters, however, would instantly recognize the writhing column of dark mass for demons instead of the smoke most would assume it to be. Between that and the steam from evaporated seawater, the full extent of the damage wasn't yet visible, but he'd seen enough already to know it was bad. Very, very bad.  
  
For one thing any surviving witnesses would all have had their eyes burned right out of their skulls as the video had needed serious filtering to be anything other than eye-searing and the way the cameraman had screamed as he'd dropped the recorder had been enough for Dean to know exactly what had happened to the poor guy. But the video definitely corroborated what his friend had said; the gateway had been opened before the supernova that was the devil had appeared to wipe everything out.  
  
When they started on the suspected death toll, Dean paled and closed the laptop. "What the hell was he trying to do? Wouldn't that explosion have closed the gate again?"  
  
"No, the gateway is a metaphysical portal between Earth and Perdition, it will not be overcome by rubble," Castiel replied. "Most likely Lucifer was attempting to destroy the door and the protections around the gateway to prevent us from easily closing it all once more."  
  
"Shit, you mean it's still open? Demons are still getting out?"  
  
"It is still open but we have a garrison guarding the gateway," Michael stated. "Raphael and Castiel had prepared for this eventuality and so once they arrived and Lucifer fled, the flow of demons onto Earth was halted."  
  
Dean sighed with relief. "That's good. Can you close the gateway again or will it need to be constantly guarded?"  
  
"It is possible to create a new seal for the gateway, but with the old one so completely obliterated it will take a lot of effort and power to do so."  
  
"Oh, you need me for this."  
  
"Yes," Michael confirmed, wincing as he glanced down at his current vessel. "Although I have been as careful as I can be with your aunt, power decay has already begun to set in and should I attempt to create this seal while within her, I fear there may be very little of her left afterwards."  
  
The image made Dean blanch and he wondered why it was that he couldn't currently see any signs of the power decay, but then figured that there were some things that he really didn't want to know and this was most definitely one of them. He really didn't want the memory of Aunt Deirdre looking like Lucifer had just before Sam had let the devil in tainting the few recollections of her that he had. He was just grateful to his friend for understanding that so well as to hide the evidence of it.  
  
"Why didn't you say anything before? We could have gone right away," Dean inquired.  
  
"This will require a lot of energy from both of you," Castiel explained. "It was better for you to eat before Michael took you."  
  
"Precisely. The garrison guarding the gateway is one of our best and is more than capable of holding off the demons that are aware the gateway has opened as word will not yet have spread far," Michael added. "Are you ready?"  
  
"Yeah, sure, let's get this gateway closed as quickly as possible," Dean stated, heading for the couch. "Is here good?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
The moment that Castiel had closed the curtains, Michael left Deirdre and came for him. Less nervous now than before, Dean was able to catch sight of his friend's lion and bat faces before the archangel was there, sinking into him. This time he allowed things to happen, reaching out and curling himself around the bit of Grace that Michael extended towards him. The close connection between them that flared to life at the first touch of Grace to soul let him remain calm as he started getting pushed down towards the darkness. So long as his friend wasn't worried, he wouldn't be either. The last thing he wanted to do now was to make his archangel waste energy needlessly on him that could be used far better on closing that damned gateway.  
  
In the end the darkness grazed the very edge of Dean's awareness but he didn't actually go under. It still left him a little disoriented but soon he found himself nestled securely in Michael's Grace. A few movements that felt just like stretches later and he felt completely awake and aware again.  
  
" _Hello again, Little One,_ " Michael greeted with a stroke to his soul. " _I have missed having you here with me like this._ "  
  
Strangely enough and against all odds, Dean found that he too had missed the closeness with his friend. " _I wish that we could have the connection without the actual possessing bit._ "  
  
" _I do not believe that is possible._ "  
  
" _Yeah, I know._ "  
  
But it didn't stop Dean from wishing for it. Michael was, essentially, only his second true friend ever and, given the way his relationship with Castiel had changed and evolved, Michael would be the first that would remain just a friend. Maybe it was simply the way he formed connections, but those he let in and close to him, he'd always wanted to keep  _really_  close and this whole vessel-archangel thing was really hitting that deep-seated need of his and he didn't want to give it up even if he knew that he'd have to. Perhaps he and Michael would have to do this occasionally if they won and everyone survived.  
  
"Michael?" Castiel asked, standing before them. "Dean?"  
  
"We are both well, Brother," Michael reassured.  
  
"Do you require assistance?"  
  
"Yes, and it would be best for you to learn how to seal a gateway should Lucifer or Simiel manage to break open any of the others."  
  
The mere thought had Dean shuddering but it was a valid point as it was something that Lucifer was probably going to try again. Even now, given how quickly the angels had responded, he dreaded to think of how many hundreds or thousands of demons might have escaped and how quickly they were spreading worldwide.  
  
"Dean makes a good point," Michael suddenly stated, catching him off-guard.  
  
" _Huh?_ " Dean questioned.  
  
"We should probably see if we cannot prevent the demons from spreading too far," Michael continued.  
  
"Yes," Castiel nodded. "I shall see to it and meet you there."  
  
With that his lover was gone and Dean was left with Michael and his aunt's vegetative body. Briefly he spared another thought for her husband before he shoved the thought aside. There was nothing that he could for the man short of bringing him into his world and he sincerely doubted that was something either his aunt or his father would have wanted so it was best to just let things be even if it was no doubt hurting the guy. He then wondered why they didn't just leave before remembering that the transition from one vessel to another weakened Michael and instead he tried to wait as patiently as possible for his friend to recover, not wanting them to attempt this at anything less than full power even if he hated waiting around and doing nothing when something like this was going on.  
  
Eventually though Michael was ready and they took off. Despite the seriousness of their mission, Dean found himself enjoying the first part of their flight. The feel of the wind in their feathers as Michael beat his large wings was terrific and the sights were amazing even if he still had some trouble processing it all. It was strange how he felt no fear like this given his usual terror with airplanes.  
  
" _If you would like, we could go flying just for fun once,_ " Michael offered. " _Without the need to get somewhere quickly I would be able to slow down enough so that you could enjoy it all._ "  
  
" _Really?_ " Dean asked, loving the idea even if it made him think of the stunts pilots pulled at air shows for some reason.  
  
Michael laughed. " _I could do acrobatics like that if you would like._ "  
  
For a moment Dean almost felt the need to flush but then he shrugged it off. It wasn't his fault that thought had leaked out and he kinda liked the idea of doing all kinds of tricks in mid-air just for the hell of it. They deserved to simply have some fun after all and since he was a vessel anyway, he might as well enjoy the perks of the experience even if they were due to his being some kind of anomaly among anomalies. Since when had he ever done anything the normal way anyway? He was different and he'd always been proud of it so it was crazy for him to start caring about that now and he wasn't sure why he had.  
  
It all seemed so clear to Dean now that he wasn't sure why he'd been so worried and against it before. Yes, so perhaps he didn't quite like or agree with the interpretation of  _why_  he was so different- special according to his archangels- but it really didn't bother him anymore that he  _was_  different. After all, normal people, or even normal vessels for that matter, didn't get to have angelic lovers or get to have such a great connection with the angel who wore them. In fact they didn't get to have any of the things that he currently loved about his life. Nor any of the bad things, truthfully, but he wouldn't give up Castiel or Michael for anything.  
  
For the first time in his life Dean knew that he finally had the family that he'd always wanted and he was damned if he was going to give them up or if anyone was going to take them from him.  
  
" _We are here,_ " Michael stated and Dean made a mental not to explain contractions to the archangel later before turning all of his attention to the task at hand.  
  
The sight before them now was radically different from before. Gone were the endless, beautiful stretches of sky and ocean and in their stead was utter chaos and destruction. The first thing to catch Dean's eye were the columns of smoke that rose into the sky. For a split second he thought that the demons had rallied faster than expected and had overcome the garrison left to protect the gateway, but then he realized that it really was just smoke. It came from the many fires below some of which were burning on the water itself which had a slick sheen to it like gas and he wondered where it had come from.  
  
The thought passed quickly as Michael took a moment to assess the full scale of the destruction and Dean saw that even some of the vegetation on the mainland had caught fire and he tried to connect the explosion he'd seen on his laptop with the devastation he saw now. The shoreline looked pretty bad with boats and all manner of debris littered quite far inland making him suspect that Lucifer's little show had caused a mini-tsunami or at least a localized tidal surge. The anger flared hot and strong within him along with guilt for not having prevented this, but he tried to contain them so as not to distract Michael from what his friend was here to do. He got a brief flicker of gratitude for his efforts and then they were flying straight down into the heart of the damage.  
  
From the ground the destruction looked even worse and Dean's unasked question about whether there had been any buildings on the islands was answered by the rubble around them though the twisted iron bars laying off to one side made him wonder exactly what type of buildings they had been. Regardless of that, there was hardly anything left of them now and fire and water were diligently working to consume what had survived so far. The presence of the water, especially where it seemed to literally spout from the ground, made him wonder if what remained of the island itself wouldn't be overcome by the ocean by nightfall. Lucifer had blasted most of it into oblivion and all that was left was a crater the center of which was definitely well below sea level.  
  
"Michael," Castiel said as he landed beside them.  
  
"Castiel. Has the hunt begun?"  
  
"Yes, the garrisons I assigned were most eager to aid in any way possible."  
  
"Lucifer's attack has angered them."  
  
"Yes, particularly in light of the fact that there was no one present here who could have posed him any resistance."  
  
Dean instantly recognized the gateway without any prompting when Michael's gaze landed on it for with his archangel enhanced senses, he could easily peer into it and the play of light that was only found in Hell shone through clearly. If he'd been in control of his meatsuit, his breath would have caught in his throat and his heart would have started beating a hard and fast rhythm. Instead he experienced none of the expected physical symptoms his mental condition warranted and it was throwing him for a loop. The decades worth of memories were also threatening to rush in and it was all that he could do to fight them off. He really should have expected something like this to happen given their mission and he should have been prepared for it. He-  
  
His eyes fell closed as he was suddenly enveloped in Grace and Light, Michael coiling himself around him fiercely enough to chase away the lingering power of Hell. Dean took a few moments to simply bask in the comfort and security being offered before he began to pull himself together. Despite everything that was going on and Lucifer's escape from the cage, he'd hardly had so much as bad dream about his time on the rack with Alastair in a very long time. It was probably part of the reason why the abrupt reminder was hitting him so hard now, but he was also immensely pleased at the realization of exactly how much better he'd gotten and he knew that it was all thanks to Castiel and his lover's patience and persistence.  
  
" _Thanks, Mike,_ " Dean finally said when he felt confident that his voice wouldn't shake.  
  
" _Anytime, Little One._ "  
  
"What do we need to do?" Castiel inquired, also looking towards the gateway. "How do we create a new seal for it?"


	111. Chapter 110

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The creation of a seal.

**PAST**  
  
  
The ease with which he was able to access his full power while within Dean never failed to amaze Michael and together with how wonderful it felt to have the Righteous Man's amazing and unique soul nestled within his Grace, made him never want to leave his friend for Deirdre Winchester's body ever again though he knew that he had to. While she was enough of a vessel for him that she was at least able to take him without being instantly burned up from within, she was still ill-fitting at best. Not to mention the fact that it felt far too quiet and dark inside her without Dean's brilliant presence. It made him wonder how his brothers and sisters could stand being in their vessels without an awake and active soul inside of them. Raphael and Castiel worried him most of all as they didn't even have a soul cradled deep within them, fast asleep; they were like him within Deirdre and that made him ache for what they were missing even if they didn't realize it.  
  
Well, actually that might not be entirely true, Michael mused. Castiel of all angels might well be aware of precisely what it was that he was missing, given his brother's previous experience and having held Dean's soul close to his own Grace while pulling the Righteous Man from Perdition. The thought comforted him at first but then made him pause as he wondered if that perhaps didn't make it worse for Castiel, to have knowledge of exactly what it was that he was missing. Without that knowledge, the darkness and emptiness within his vessel might not seem as bad as his brother would only ever have known what it felt like to have a deeply hibernating soul within him from before the death of his vessel. It was a depressing thought and not something that should be occupying his attention at present.  
  
Instead, Michael returned his thoughts to the ease with which his full powers responded to his commands. He'd expected more resistance than this even in his one true vessel. This was almost as if he wasn't even in a vessel, not that he was complaining, it was merely unexpected. His surprise made it take a little longer than normal for him to realize Dean's reaction to the power that now ran through their shared body. The awe and incredulity that he'd felt at Stull Cemetery when his vessel had first realized the true power of an archangel was back in full force, but so too was the fear.  
  
The fact that he'd once desired precisely this type of reaction from Dean for both who and what he was made the fact that his vessel was now feeling it all the worse for Michael. Dean had become very important and precious to him and he could now understand why Castiel had done all that he had for this human and so the last thing he wanted now was for his friend to fear him or any part of him. Nor did he want Dean to draw his soul back like he did now, essentially pulling himself into as small a ball as possible.  
  
" _It is okay, Little One,_ " Michael soothed, releasing some of the power so he could touch the precious soul as normal. " _It will not harm you._ "  
  
" _You sure?_ " Dean questioned, relaxing fractionally.  
  
" _Yes. You are my true vessel and therefore it will not consume you as it would another. Do you not wish to experience the power of an archangel first hand?_ "  
  
" _I don't think that I'm meant for that kind of power._ "  
  
" _That type of self-awareness and respect for it is precisely why I do not hesitate to let you feel it. You would not abuse it._ "  
  
That provoked a snort from his vessel and Michael was pleased that Dean was slowly relaxing, his soul unfurling so its light and warmth caressed his Grace once more. Carefully, so as not to startle his little human, he reached out and coiled himself around Dean as before.  
  
" _There, now are you ready this time?_ "  
  
" _Yeah, I'm good,_ " Dean replied though there was a slight waver to his voice.  
  
The emotions coming from his friend clarified it as being due to a mix of nervousness and excitement, so Michael felt confident enough to proceed, calling for his true, unrestrained power once more. It instantly rose within him, easily flowing into Dean's body and pouring effortlessly along the soul ensconced within him. Dean drew in a sharp breath as the power reached him but he still felt no fear this time and so he didn't draw back. The awe had returned along with a strong sense of disbelief and wonder as if his vessel couldn't believe what he was experiencing. To his surprise he found that his power seemed to surge as it touched Dean's soul and it took him a moment to realize that instead of merely weaving through the essence of his vessel's soul, it was actually  _interacting_  with it on some level. The shock was so great that it took him longer still to realize that it was actually being  _enhanced_  by the contact, as if Dean's soul was somehow boosting his own power.  
  
" _Mike?_ " Dean asked, sensing something was happening. " _What's wrong?_ "  
  
" _Nothing is wrong, Little One, merely surprising,_ " Michael reassured before speaking aloud. "Castiel, have you ever heard of an angel's power being enhanced by the soul of their vessel?"  
  
"No, this is happening?" Castiel asked, frowning as he turned to give them his full attention.  
  
"Yes."  
  
" _Wait, I'm enhancing it?_ " Dean demanded, incredulous.  
  
" _Yes, Dean._ "  
  
"This could be most advantageous," Castiel mused. "It isn't harming Dean, is it?"  
  
"No, Brother, your mate is fine."  
  
" _How?_ " Dean inquired.  
  
" _This I do not know, but it is something to look into when we have the time,_ " Michael responded.  
  
" _Great, that's just what we needed, something else to look up. You know, I'm beginning to feel less like we're in the middle of a war than some massive study session for a test._ "  
  
Even as his vessel said the words, Michael caught the regret coming from Dean as they both took in the extensive chaos and destruction all around them that was all that was left of what had once been three separate islands. He let the comment slide as he knew that out of all of them, Dean was the most aware of the very real cost that had been paid here and how serious the situation was. If his vessel needed to vent his anger and frustration aloud, then he was more than willing to be a convenient outlet for that. Instead he merely tightened his Grace briefly around Dean's soul.  
  
" _Sorry._ "  
  
" _There is no need to be, Little One._ "  
  
"Are you still able to control everything?" Castiel questioned.  
  
"Yes," Michael stated confidently. "It simply caught me off-guard."  
  
"It is unexpected."  
  
" _He's got a knack for understatements, doesn't he?_ " Dean commented dryly.  
  
" _Indeed he does,_ " Michael agreed. " _Are you ready?_ "  
  
" _What? To play the energizer bunny, sure, why not if it helps._ "  
  
" _You are no leporid, Little One._ "  
  
" _Lepo-what's it?_ " Dean questioned confused. " _Huh?_ "  
  
" _You said you were ready to play a leporid._ "  
  
Confusion rolled off of Dean for a second before his vessel seemed to figure something out. " _Wait, that some fancy way of saying bunny?_ "  
  
" _Yes._ "  
  
" _Then why the hell don't you just say bunny? And it was a reference anyway._ "  
  
" _I see._ "  
  
Dean snorted. " _No, you really don't, but it's not relevant now anyway._ "  
  
" _Indeed._ "  
  
Human were such strange creatures.  
  
Michael put the sentiment out of his mind and focused instead on channelling his power through himself and his vessel once more. This time when it surged upon touching Dean's soul, he was prepared for it and used the advantage it gave him to turn more of his attention to other matters. Focusing upon the gateway, he studied it for a moment, seeing what he had to work with. Lucifer had, unfortunately, been quite thorough in completely eliminating anything that had been left of the original seal, but perhaps he could use that to his advantage now. All of the seals had been created by the archangels just after his brother's rebellion and the creation of Perdition. As such while foreign in the sense that neither Lucifer nor Simiel had worked on them, the seals would have been familiar to them on some level as they and his remaining brother archangels were alike in many ways. That was what had allowed Lucifer to completely obliterate this seal once it had been breached with the key.  
  
Originally Michael had seen no other option than to simply recreate the seal and hope that it would be enough. Now, however, with what he had just discovered that he had at his disposal, he wondered if perhaps he couldn't make things a little more complicated than that. Due to his arrogance and sense of superiority, Lucifer had never bothered to learn very much about humanity, a weakness he had only recently discovered that he shared with his brother to an alarming extent. Not anymore, though, and that was enough for him to now see the potential that this new discovery presented them with.  
  
" _Dean, when I ask you for it later, I want you to think of the best and most unique or creative ways of protecting something,_ " Michael said.  
  
" _What? Why?_ "  
  
The latter seemed to be a question his vessel loved to come back around to. " _Because I want to make this seal different, human if you will._ "  
  
" _I don't understand._ "  
  
" _Seals are, at their essence, a manifestation of an angel's Will and Intent. As such they can be understood and broken by other angels. Normally this is not an issue, but with anything pertaining to the Apocalypse, of course, it is._ "  
  
" _Okay, following you so far. And?_ "  
  
" _And I wish to make this one a blend of angel and human Intent if not Will._ "  
  
The way Dean's soul sparked told Michael that his vessel had gotten exactly what he was saying.  
  
" _You think that'll work?_ "  
  
" _Yes._ "  
  
Dean seemed to think that over for a moment before giving his Grace a gentle tug. " _Does it have to all be purely defensive then?_ "  
  
" _What do you mean?_ "  
  
" _Well, this seal is to stand against demons, Lucifer and Simiel, right? So then wouldn't it be best to use something that they wouldn't understand at all? Like love._ "  
  
" _Love?_ " Michael repeated, not understanding where his friend was going with this.  
  
Unfortunately Dean's inability to convey exactly what he meant in words meant that he couldn't quite figure out what his vessel intended either. Michael was trying to think of another way to grasp what his friend meant when Dean shoved a memory at him. He carefully submerged himself in it and was immediately assaulted by a veritable maelstrom of dark emotions: anger, anguish, agony and terror. But there were also other things mixed up in there that took him a little longer to see, drenched as they were by the first set of emotions: determination, love and resolution. The emotions were so much more than he'd ever felt from a human that they threw him at first, the strength and odd combination overwhelming, but then he realized that the memory was set shortly after Sam Winchester's death in Cold Oak and it all started to make sense. The knowledge of how powerful a moment this had been in his vessel's life had him threading very carefully as he sought that which Dean wanted him to learn. It wasn't until he saw the part of his friend coming to the decision to sell his very soul that he finally got it.  
  
Michael drew in a sharp breath as comprehension finally dawned and he understood the beauty and power of what Dean was suggesting. This type of emotion and sacrifice would be totally alien to the demons and Lucifer as it was completely antithetic to everything that they were and believed in. Just as it was still nearly incomprehensible to himself despite how well he'd come to know his vessel and that made it perfect. If he only had a bare grasp on it, then there was no way for his brother and Simiel to understand it enough to easily be able to break a seal steeped in it.  
  
" _That is perfect, Little One, do it,_ " Michael praised.  
  
The sheer emotion such a simple statement could evoke within Dean still angered Michael even though he had come to expect it, but he forced himself to ignore it for now. Instead he planned where best to anchor the seal physically, already knowing what metaphysical anchor he would use. Then he decided on the most efficient way to weave the base of the seal to ensure that the least amount of demons got out in the time between the garrison's withdrawal and their ability to cover the gateway with the first layer of their Intent and his Will.  
  
" _Dean?_ " Michael queried when he was ready.  
  
" _Yeah?_ "  
  
" _Reach out for Castiel as you did the last time we were together._ "  
  
" _Why?_ " Dean asked but he could already feel his vessel doing as requested.  
  
" _Your connection with him will allow him to feel what I am doing and to see it better than he would be able to without it. It will make things easier than if I were simply to try and explain what I am doing to him._ "  
  
" _Dean? Michael?_ " Castiel questioned.  
  
" _Use the bond to watch what I am doing,_ " Michael instructed. Once he was sure that his brother could see what he needed to, he began. " _The first part of creating a seal like this is all about focusing your Will and Intent. The power that Father has blessed us with can deter many, but the more powerful demons could potentially overcome a low-level dose of our power, so we need to build up a concentration of it._ "  
  
As he worked, Michael was aware of Dean shifting within him. His vessel was slowly expanding his soul further so that it became the looser, more active soul that it normally was. Although his friend had unfurled somewhat from Dean's tightly wound and dimmed ball from before, it had still been far more compact and contained than normal. He was pretty sure that Dean's normal state of fluid movement and the way his soul shone and reached out to things was part of why he had such a hard time going back to Deirdre Winchester's soulless body but he wouldn't give it up despite that. There was a vitality about Dean Winchester that drew him in and finally allowed him to see for himself what it was that Father had seen in humanity when He'd created them all of those countless millennia ago.  
  
The other reason that Michael was so pleased to see and feel Dean reaching out once more was because he'd found that his vessel drew intense satisfaction from it as well. His brother had been frighteningly correct when Castiel had said that Dean couldn't see his own worth and uniqueness, which meant that his vessel was constantly surprised and delighted whenever Dean experienced any of his feelings for him. Something which couldn't happen when Dean had his soul pulled into a tight little ball. So he wished for his friend to fully unfurl himself so that Dean could feel as much of his affection and love for him as possible. Already he was able to see changes in his vessel since their first joining and while he knew that most of it was due to Castiel's care and attention, he liked to think that he'd played a part in it all as well.  
  
Due to all of his previous experience creating seals, Michael was able to easily attach the beginnings of the new one to its physical anchor while still making it clear how he was doing it. The few questions Castiel posed proved that his brother was following what he was doing, so he moved on to the next step quickly, beginning to weave together his Will and Intent as he normally would.  
  
" _Now, Little One, do it now._ "  
  
The Intent that Dean spun out as the power washed through his soul pulsed bright and warm much as his vessel's soul did and Michael could clearly see which strands his friend had created as he wove them together into an impenetrable meshwork and he used Dean's strands to attach the new seal to its metaphysical anchor. Whether it was due to his own substantial knowledge of Dean or something else, his brother caught on even faster than normal once he started using the strands with Dean's Intent and Castiel was able to step in and help him when it came time for the garrison to withdraw and the gateway was briefly left open once more. Castiel's own power was quickly absorbed into the seal, effortlessly meshing with the strands of Dean's Intent and quite easily integrating with his own as well.  
  
When it was done, the new seal pulsed and shone with more strength, power and Light than any Michael had ever seen before. Which, naturally, brought with it its own problems.  
  
"We are going to have to find some way to disguise that from supernatural view or it will shine like a beacon calling forth every demon that would wish to destroy it."


	112. Chapter 111

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael finds Dean's reaction to the bright seal entertaining.

**PAST**  
  
  
Michael tried to keep his amusement to himself but found that it was surprisingly difficult to do. He'd gotten so used to sharing his emotions with his vessel that keeping things from Dean now took more effort than sharing them did. Besides, his friend definitely wasn't helping matters with Dean's precious annoyance and constant dark mutters of how he  _hadn't_  prettied up the seal.  
  
" _I didn't!_ " Dean insisted as his vessel caught wind of where his thoughts had gone.  
  
" _No, of course not,_ " Michael soothed placatingly.  
  
He was unable to make himself sound as calm or genuine as he'd intended though and felt the irritation and glare sparking off of Dean's soul. This in turn made it even harder for Michael to keep his mirth hidden and a smile escaped his control.  
  
"What is so amusing, Brother?" Castiel asked with a frown, pausing in his task of hiding the bright seal from view.  
  
"Your precious mate," Michael replied and Dean literally growled within him at that adjective and Michael's smile only grew. "He seems to find offense in the fact that I said he is responsible for making the seal so bright."  
  
"But he is," Castiel frowned.  
  
"I may have used the word pretty."  
  
"Ah, I see."  
  
" _'m_ not _pretty!_ " Dean protested loudly with a little prod to his Grace that his vessel probably thought was a good jab. " _I don't prettify things!_ "  
  
" _Prettify, Little One?_ "  
  
" _Dude, shut up._ "  
  
This time Michael couldn't help it, he laughed aloud, drawing a look of mild reproof from his brother that he knew was staged for his vessel's benefit.  
  
From the way Dean's soul roiled within him full of indignation and mild outrage, Michael knew that his friend saw right through Castiel's act as well. The muttering that started up again let him know that Dean wasn't truly angry with them but was rather dealing with some sense of wounded human pride or this sense of emasculation Castiel had once told him human males could feel in certain situations. Even though he didn't fully understand this emasculation, he'd gotten enough of it to know that if Dean were an angel all of his feathers would be ruffled and puffed up at the moment and that image sent another wave of amusement through him that he tried to suppress. Instead he returned his attention to the task at hand, helping out where he could to ameliorate the damage Lucifer had caused all the while bathing the soul nestled within him with affection.  
  


* * *

  
  
It wasn't fair, Dean nearly muttered aloud. Michael wasn't playing fair, pretending to give him some space while simultaneously giving him  _that_. The emotion swirled around him, warm and bright and everything he just wanted to surrender himself to and revel in.  
  
Manipulative bastard.  
  
" _Dude!_ " Dean finally protested, when he felt his indignation starting to fade away.  
  
" _Yes, Little One?_ " Michael replied innocently.  
  
Dean scowled. " _You're not gonna stop calling me that, are you?_ "  
  
" _No, I like it._ "  
  
" _Of course you do._ "  
  
" _What did you want, Dean?_ "  
  
And now the archangel called him by his name. Dean was certain that Michael was doing it to get to him, he'd done this type of shit often enough to Sam to be able to recognize it for what it was. The only question was whether or not his friend realized what he was doing. Tempting as it was to assume that Michael was and retaliate accordingly, he actually didn't think that his friend did realize it and he was a bit afraid that if he reacted too much to it that the archangel might stop it altogether. Although a part of wanted just that at the moment, the rest of him was far too touched by it. He knew from experience the affection that went into that sort of thing and it told him that what he felt now from Michael was very real.  
  
 _That_  was what brought Dean up short and made him squirm in a way that usually preceded a quick, strategic exit on his part, only that just wasn't possible this time. Instead he tried to bury those thoughts and focus back on what was going on around him. It was amazingly easy to get lost in his thoughts and lose track of time while with Michael and he wondered if that had to do with the fact that he was currently a soul. His archangels had told him that being a soul meant that he couldn't hide things from himself or deny them. It was why he knew that Michael and Castiel were right about the seal thing no matter how much he wanted them to be wrong. He'd  _felt_  the way he- his soul that was- had reacted and interacted with Michael's power on a truly visceral level and it kinda terrified him.  
  
Dean shifted uncomfortably even now, just thinking about it. The connection he had with Michael had flared open wider than ever before during the creation of the seal and he'd quite literally  _felt_  the archangel's power flowing through him almost as if it were his own. It made him dizzy to just  _think_  about being able to command that amount of power and while they had been creating the seal that had been almost what it felt like which really freaked him out for some reason. Beyond that, however, there was also the fact that he'd been able to see that the power had been different, brighter, when it had left him than when it had entered his soul. Still, he didn't think that it would be enough to make the seal that much brighter.  
  
It wasn't his fault, dammit!  
  
" _Of course not._ "  
  
" _Bite me,_ " Dean muttered.  
  
The seal wasn't nearly so bright now, Dean saw. Castiel had done a brilliant job of it, managing to disguise it so that it now looked more like some random supernatural artifact than a seal. It was a good thing too as he was sure that rescue crews were bound to start arriving soon and they'd have to be done and gone before that happened or they'd have some tough questions to answer.  
  
"How are you feeling, Michael?" Castiel asked, stepping close to them.  
  
"Better, I should be able to fly back now," Michael replied.  
  
" _Are you okay to fly to Heaven instead?_ " Dean inquired hesitantly.  
  
" _Yes, I would be able to do that and my recovery would be faster there. Why?_ "  
  
" _I can be in Heaven for a while, right? There won't be any adverse effects so long as I'm with you like this?_ "  
  
" _You wish to go to Heaven, Little One?_ "  
  
The surprise in his archangel's voice made Dean wince a little as he knew exactly what Michael was thinking of. He  _had_  made his dislike of Heaven quite clear, but this time it couldn't be avoided and he had no intention of trying to find a substitute for what he needed. The book on angelic bonding had been quite clear on what the first step towards initiating an official bonding ceremony needed to be and he was determined to this right for Castiel. His lover deserved that much, besides, he knew that he'd be perfectly safe with Michael so there would really be no excuse not to do this right.  
  
" _I want to find a kalsika,_ " Dean admitted a little hesitantly, not used to sharing these types of emotions with anyone other than his lover.  
  
The way that Michael froze made Dean a little worried that he'd done something wrong. He'd tried to do everything that the book had said so he didn't think he'd missed anything but it was always possible that there were things that hadn't been covered in the book that angels just took for granted as common knowledge. The next moment all doubts fled as Michael's Grace constricted around him in what he assumed was an entire soul hug, or at least that was the closest equivalent that he could think of.  
  
" _Dude!_ " Dean complained, squirming once more. " _Personal space, Mike._ "  
  
" _Doing this will obliterate that concept entirely._ "  
  
" _With Cas,_ " Dean pointed out, trying to wiggle out of the hug. " _Dude, seriously!_ "  
  
" _I am not going to vanish on you, Dean, I will not leave you so you do not need to try and maintain a superficial distance between us._ "  
  
The words stilled Dean instantly and if he'd been in control of his meatsuit then he was sure that he'd have a lump in his throat. He hadn't thought that Michael would, at least not consciously anyway, but those words definitely struck a cord and he suddenly felt incredibly vulnerable as if his archangel had stripped him bare of any and all defenses that he had. It made sense that on a subconscious level he'd been afraid of exactly that scenario after what had happened with Sam, but he wasn't ready to confront the fact that a part of him was afraid that his new friend would abandon and betray him like his brother had.  
  
It was simply far too agonizing a possibility to think about and made Dean wonder how he'd even been able to allow himself to trust Michael this much in the first place.  
  
"Shall we go?" Castiel asked, a frown on his face and Dean realized that they must have spaced out on his lover.  
  
Of course Castiel had played a large role in that, Dean suddenly understood. His lover's trust that Michael was truly on their side had preceded his own trust and he was now incredibly grateful for that even if the sudden revelation still left him feeling shaky at best.  
  
"You go ahead, I need to make a stop somewhere else first," Michael stated.  
  
"Do you need help?"  
  
"No, Dean would like to stop by Heaven," Michael began and Dean winced, not having wanted to tell his lover about that.  
  
It was meant to be a surprise and one he sprung at the right time.  
  
"Heaven?"  
  
"Yes, he wishes to visit Raphael," Michael lied for him.  
  
Oh, that was actually a pretty good explanation and definitely one that Castiel wouldn't question. Not that he was going to tell Michael that, the archangel's ego was already far too large as far as Dean was concerned. The fact that he didn't get a friendly jab in return was a clear indication that his friend could tell how shaky he still felt. Michael's Grace curled around him instead and he allowed the comfort it offered to soak into him. Damn his brother for making him feel like this in the first place!  
  
"Okay," Castiel said. "I shall ensure that Dean has something to eat when you return."  
  
With that his lover spread his magnificent ebony wings and took off. Obligingly, Michael watched Castiel go so Dean got an excellent view of his lover in flight before Michael spread his own wings and they took off as well. Now that he wasn't seriously distracted by the horrible condition that Castiel had been in the last time they'd flown to Heaven, he was able to pay attention to his surroundings and it was weird. At first it seemed like they were simply flying upwards, straight into the sky, but instead of feeling the air get thinner around them and hitting the stratosphere, there was almost a ripple in the air around them and things started to change. Perhaps he'd missed something, some critical threshold or so, as he still wasn't able to process everything that he was seeing, but it seemed like they were suddenly somewhere else.  
  
Logically Dean knew that they were in Heaven now, but it looked unlike anything that he'd ever seen there before. Not that it was particularly surprising given that he could only remember being in Heaven twice, but this was absolutely gorgeous. It was breathtaking and he was thankful that Michael paused a moment and simply let him take it all in. The sky was actually familiar now that he thought about it as he vaguely remembered seeing something like it the first time while he'd been driving the Impala along the Road. As before the moon was full and the stars were doing their spiral loopy thingy.  
  
" _Spiral loopy thing?_ " Michael questioned with humor.  
  
" _Shut up,_ " Dean threw right back, embarrassed.  
  
Below the sky was a landscape as familiar and yet as alien as the sky. It shouldn't have stood out as being anything special as mountains with valleys and orchards were a dime a dozen on Earth and yet it did. Like the sky, it was familiar enough for the alien bits to really stand out and make it seem otherworldly in a way he had a hard time explaining, even to himself. He supposed that it all seemed to radiate some dark inner light. He'd say it radiated light except for the fact that all of that had absolutely nothing on the light the kalsika that hung among the fruit in the trees radiated. That was true light, so the rest seemed dark in comparison and yet it still all had a glow to it that mountains and valleys and orchards on Earth didn't possess. It made his head hurt to try and process it all and he understood that the only reason that he was seeing any of this in the first place was entirely due to the angelic vision he currently had thanks to Michael's presence within his meatsuit. Or at least that would be the case with a normal vessel. Given that he could view angels' wings these days, all bets were off regarding the other stuff. But still, he was only seeing all of this due to some reason as ordinary humans would just be seeing odd orbs among the normal, if exotic, looking fruit.  
  
" _I still can't believe that there's actually a Garden of Eden,_ " Dean whispered, something about the feel of the place making him lower his voice even if nothing he said would be spoken aloud.  
  
There was a sense of peace and bliss that hung over the grove that would normally have given Dean the creeps but which now inspired him with nothing short of awe. That was probably down to the fact that he knew this wasn't anything bad whereas in any other circumstance his supernatural radar would have been pinging far too much for him to be able to simply take it all in and enjoy it.  
  
" _Your Bible got the location of it and all of the details wrong, but yes, the Garden of Eden is an actual place as you can now see for yourself,_ " Michael replied proudly.  
  
" _I take it the whole Adam and Eve thing is bullshit then?_ "  
  
" _No, they were originally allowed in here but lost that particular privilege when they broke the two rules that Father had laid down for them._ "  
  
" _Two? I thought it was just the one, that they not ear any of the... well it was supposed to be an apple, but I guess it's really whatever those fruits are._ "  
  
" _Yes, they partook from the forbidden fruit, but Eve also touched a kalsika and this was strictly forbidden without the proper rituals and intentions._ "  
  
" _Oh, that part got forgotten somewhere along the line._ "  
  
" _It is for the best as we would not wish demons to learn of the kalsika._ "  
  
" _Yeah, I can see why,_ " Dean replied before he gave himself a mental shake and tried to overcome his awe enough to focus on the reason why they'd come here. " _Okay, so how do we do this?_ "  
  
" _Normally an angel seeking to bond with their mate would wander the grove until they found, or rather were drawn to, the right kalsika._ "  
  
" _Which I obviously can't do._ "  
  
" _No, but I can do so for you. I shall pull back as much as it is possible for me to and you will need to concentrate on reaching outwards and trying to feel the pull of your kalsika._ "  
  
" _And what if I can't find it?_ " Dean asked, finally voicing the fear he'd had ever since first reading about the kalsika. " _What if there isn't one that is compatible with me?_ "  
  
" _Hush, Little One, there will be one, I am certain of it. You just need to allow yourself to find it. Now, reach out with your soul and you will know when we pass near the right one._ "  
  



	113. Chapter 112

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam tricks Bobby and Samuel into going to Chuck's house.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
Sam glanced over at his grandfather as he turned the corner of a street not too far away from Chuck's house. Samuel was, as most good hunters, excellent at sleeping in the car and therefore out like a light and had been for the last few hours. Given how little sleep that he himself had gotten as of late, he knew that he should be tired now as well but instead he felt strangely energized. They had finally seemed to hit some kind of turning point with the cleansing spells the day after Dean's visit with his two pet angels (or was it the two angels with their pet Righteous Man?) and things had been going much better ever since then. They were already using spells that were several steps higher than the basic ones that they'd started with and been stuck on for so long, and ever since he seemed to have an abundance of energy.  
  
Although Sam had never noticed it at the time, he now felt like he'd been under some kind of draining spell before that he'd only just broken free from. Which was odd as he could clearly recall how the demon blood had energized him when he'd first started taking it and that had driven him to take more as much as Ruby's constant encouragement had. The only logical explanation was that this lethargy was some kind of residual taint from having spent time in Hell, or even from whatever had gotten him out of there, something which they still hadn't figured out. Although that fact still frustrated him to no end, it did make him feel a little smug when he'd learned that it had also stumped the angels, archangels included. So much for their sense of superiority. Mud monkeys indeed!  
  
He debated waking Samuel up now or waiting. Sam was glad for the fact that his grandfather had fallen asleep as his new found energy seemed to translate itself into nervous ticks whenever he did something important and the closer they got to Chuck's, the worse his inability to sit still had gotten. If Samuel had been awake, the man would have known that something was amiss because he hadn't told either his grandfather or Bobby the truth about their current destination. He'd told them about a hunt that he'd found and they'd assumed that he was taking them straight there which should not have made him anxious or nervous in any way. And while he would take them to the hunt afterwards, he'd planned to swing by Chuck's first as it was only a little bit out of their way. This was more important and besides whatever was attacking people was doing so on a pretty predictable schedule, at least if one knew what to look for. Chances were good that no one else would die in the next few days so they had time for their vital stop first.  
  
He'd much rather have brought everyone along instead of just Samuel and Bobby, but Sam knew that would never have worked. Ever since Dean's little visit, Christian had hardly even talked to him except to show his disdain for him. No matter how hard he tried, Christian seemed completely unwilling to listen to his explanations. It still made him angry to think about that along with Gwen and Mark's inability to understand what his situation had been like back then or their unwillingness to put in a good word for him with Christian. Hell, he'd even seen Samuel sending him odd looks as of late and it infuriated him to no end. What right did they have to judge him? They hadn't been there at the time! And it wasn't like Christian, Gwen or Mark had even known about what was going on at the time. The Apocalypse could have happened the way the angels had intended it to and none of them would have been the wiser until it was far too late to do anything about it. So how dare they judge him for what he knew and freely admitted was a stupid mistake? Sure, if he'd tried to deny it was wrong then that would be one thing, but he didn't so he just couldn't understand why they wouldn't let it go and move on.  
  
A quick glance up in the rearview mirror showed that Bobby was still following them as he turned onto Chuck's street. Given the new and unpredictable ways in which all types of creatures were behaving they always hunted in groups of three now just to be sure nothing unexpected caught them off-guard. Before Dean's visit that could have been any three of them, though he and Christian were often on the same team, but now he invariable ended up hunting with his grandfather and Bobby. He gritted his teeth and reached out to shake Samuel awake before he pulled up at the curb at Chuck's house. Surprisingly the place looked better than before. Whereas the last time there had been a sense of neglect in everything from the garden to the house itself, this time the garden was well maintained and the house appeared to be looked after and lived in.  
  
For a brief moment Sam feared that the prophet had moved out before an even worse possibility occurred to him. What if Becky Rosen was now living here as well? She had seemed to attach herself to Chuck the last time they'd seen her at that Supernatural convention. The thought of the way she always plastered herself all over him and fawned at each and every last thing he did, said or even thought made him feel vaguely nauseous although it did make him wish once more that he'd been able to arrange for a way to get Christian and the others out here in addition to Samuel and Bobby; it would definitely teach his cousin to act so self-righteous. It wasn't as if Christian had never done anything bad, but he'd always forgiven him as they were both family and friends. Jess really had been right when she'd said that he could be far too forgiving and understanding for his own good.  
  
"Where are we?" Samuel asked. "This isn't a motel."  
  
"Nope," Sam agreed, loosening his seatbelt and getting out of the car in two quick movements.  
  
Though he had the Charger fitted to his preferences, Sam didn't think that they'd ever truly make a car that would accommodate his height comfortably.  
  
"Sam," Samuel began, the warning tone in his voice only all too familiar to Sam and he rolled his eyes.  
  
Boy was Sam ever going to be glad when his grandfather learned the truth from Chuck about Dean and the mess his brother had, once again, managed to get himself all tangled up in. Perhaps when Samuel had finally gotten the truth of his precious firstborn grandson through his thick skull then they could turn their full attention to the real problem at hand instead of wasting valuable time on other things. And if Christian didn't want to believe the truth, then screw him. He was sure that Gwen and Mark would come around once Samuel did.  
  
"Is this related to the case?" Bobby questioned, getting out of his old heap of junk. "We're not dressed for an official interview."  
  
"This isn't about the hunt," Sam replied. "This is Chuck Shurley's house."  
  
"Chuck Shurley?" Samuel repeated. "Who's he?"  
  
"Chu- now wait a goddamn minute!" Bobby exclaimed. "Chuck Shurley, the prophet?"  
  
"Prophet, what prophet?"  
  
"The one who had visions of Dean and me because of the roles Heaven intended for us to play in the Apocalypse," Sam explained. "Only the poor bastard didn't know what was going on and he thought that he'd made it all up himself and decided it would be a good idea to write it all down and then sell it as fiction."  
  
Samuel blinked at him for a moment in stunned shock. "He wrote down what happened to you and your brother and sold it?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Sold it as books that people read?"  
  
"Not many people, but yes."  
  
"So there are books out there about your past hunts and what's really out there?"  
  
"Yes, Samuel," Sam confirmed, fighting the need to start fidgeting as he really wanted to walk right up to the front door and get some answers.  
  
"There are even fans of the books out there who write their own stories about what happens to Sam and Dean," Bobby stated and Sam shot him a dark look. "All of those are fake, of course, but apparently some of the fans get really serious about it and gather together to pretend to be the boys and to organize fake hunts."  
  
"Dean never should have told you that," Sam muttered.  
  
"Fans?" Samuel repeated weakly. "And they write about you? What do they write?"  
  
"You don't want to know. Really, you  _don't_  want to know."  
  
"You're hoping this prophet might know some more about the Apocalypse and what's going on," Bobby deduced.  
  
"Yes," Sam said. "It makes sense if you think about it. Everything that Chuck ever saw were things building up to the Apocalypse. I mean, the books started with me and my return to hunting after what happened to Jess, which we now know was all part of Azazel's plan to get Lucifer out of his cage. And Chuck doesn't just see things that happen to me and Dean, but also anything else related to the Apocalypse."  
  
"The Colt."  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"What?" Samuel questioned.  
  
"I'll explain it later," Sam responded, waving it off. "Let's just get in there and get some answers."  
  
"Isn't the prophet protected by an archangel?" Bobby asked. "I'm sure Dean mentioned something about that."  
  
"That's only if there are demons present or someone tries to hurt Chuck, we're just gonna ask him a few questions which he should be more than willing to answer. He owes me after all and if Chuck's really seen what might happen, then I highly doubt that he'd want it to come to pass."  
  
Without waiting for an answer, Sam strode up the walkway to the front door, knowing that Bobby and Samuel would follow. Not only did his explanation make sense, but he was also sure that both of them were dying to know what Chuck might have seen lately. And knowing Bobby as well as he did, he wouldn't be surprised if the old man wouldn't just want to meet Chuck in order to be able to see and observe a real life, honest to God (literally!) prophet. It wasn't every day that one got to do that after all. As he'd known they would, the two of them caught up with him just as he rang the doorbell.  
  
While they waited, Sam couldn't help but experience the oddest sense of deja vu. It had been just about two years ago that he and Dean had stood in this exact same spot and waited for Carver Edlund, or rather Chuck Shurley, to open the door and explain to them what the hell was going on. This time he knew exactly what was going on as far as the prophet was concerned, but he was still here for information and he still felt a strange sense of exhilaration mixed in with dread and just a hint of fear. The latter more for what might happen after this then what he might learn, but it added a spice to things and he didn't mind as it was child's play to cover it up.  
  
Sam was just about to ring the bell again when he heard footsteps approaching. A frown crossed his face as he realized that they were far too light to be Chuck and the dread grew as the door opened and he found himself face to face with Becky Rosen. She seemed just as surprised to see him and for a moment no one said anything but then, before he actually could say anything, Becky reacted and slapped him full across the face as her entire expression darkened.  
  
"Ow!" Sam exclaimed, more out of surprise than actual pain, though it did sting. "Hey!"  
  
"How could you?" Becky demanded. "I trusted you! How could you do that?"  
  
"Huh? What was that for?"  
  
"What was that for?" Becky repeated, furious as she crowded close and poked him repeatedly in the chest with a sharp-nailed finger. " _What was that for?_  Ruby, that's what that was for!"  
  
"Ruby?"  
  
"Yes, Ruby! How on Earth could you let that demon... floosy touch you and string you along like that?"  
  
"Hey!"  
  
Becky turned away for a moment before rounding on him once more. "I mean it was  _obvious_  that she just wanted to drive a wedge between you and Dean, obvious! And the demon blood, seriously? Eew, that's just totally gross and nasty!"  
  
"Oh and what you were writing about wasn't?" Sam snapped back, sick and tired of having Ruby thrust into his face by people who hadn't been there and hadn't known what he'd gone through. "Most people would consider that sicker than drinking some blood."  
  
"That wasn't sick, that was love, that was  _true love_. That was the kind of love that you only ever hear about and never get to really experience. It is the once in a lifetime for those lucky few. It is the mystical rainbow in the sky, so fleeting and fragile and yet so gorgeous and rapturous."  
  
"What the Hell is she talking about?" Bobby demanded and Sam suddenly remembered that this particular detail was one thing that Dean had never felt the need to share with his surrogate father figure.  
  
"It is the kind of love that makes people willing to sacrifice themselves and all that they have for each other, which is exactly what Dean did for you."  
  
Bobby frowned and for once Sam desperately wished that the man wasn't so good at putting random puzzle pieces together into a cohesive whole. "Wait, Dean, love?"  
  
"Yes, Dean and Sam, Sam and Dean, theirs was supposed to be the love of a generation," Becky sighed, all but swooning before her face darkened once more and she poked him in the chest some more. "Or rather it could have been if you hadn't gone and squandered it all! And for some worthless demon floozy too."  
  
"Is she talking about what I think she is?" Samuel asked, disgust rife in his voice.  
  
"Yep," was all that Sam could muster.  
  
"Wincest," Becky confirmed. "It used to be my OTP and let me tell you, I was dedicated to it and was the mistress of the best online archive thereof regardless of what sammydear or samwinchester69 might have said about it!"  
  
"Website?" Bobby asked, faintly.  
  
"More Than Brothers dot com."  
  
"Like I said, sick," Sam declared as Bobby and Samuel turned faintly green. "You would do much better to turn your attention somewhere else, Becky."  
  
"Oh believe me, I have!" Becky retorted, turning away and walking back into the house. "My days of worshipping at the false altar are long gone. I've found something far better and more worthy of my talents to focus my time and efforts on."  
  
"Ah, that's great, Becky, excellent in fact."  
  
Since she hadn't slammed the door or explicitly said that they weren't welcome, Sam followed her inside, looking about as he did so. The place was so different from before as to be almost unrecognizable. Gone were all of the bottles, trash and dishes that had littered the place before and in its stead was a cleanliness so perfect that he had to bite back the impulse to spout the old phrase that cleanliness was next to godliness which instantly sprang to mind for some bizarre reason. The computer was still where it had been before, though, and Becky had gone to sit in front of it, pointedly ignoring them as they entered the room.  
  
"Is Chuck around at all?" Sam asked when he couldn't immediately spot or hear the guy. "I've got a few questions for him."  
  
"Nope."  
  
"Do you know when he might be back?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
"Do you know where he is?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
"Do you know how to contact him?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
"Oh come on, Becky, you can't be that mad at me."  
  
"Not that mad at you?" Becky's anger flared sudden and sharp once more. "How could I possibly be not that mad at you? Dean sacrificed everything that he was and had for you,  _everything_! He gave his soul, the one thing that even us fans couldn't have seen coming and what do you do with that wonderful, magnificent sacrifice? You wasted it all on some demon floozy! Dean quite literally made the ultimate sacrifice and then you went and stabbed him in the back for a demon. A demon! You of all people should have known that they weren't to be trusted!"  
  
"Becky-"  
  
"And not only did you stab Dean in the back, but you abandoned him when he needed you most. Do you know what he went through down there, in Hell? What he went through for you?"  
  
The question and the seriousness of it caught Sam completely off-guard. "You know?"  
  
"Of course I know! I dated Chuck for a while and he just needed to let it out but knew what Dean would do if he even so much as thought about writing it down, let alone try and publish it."  
  
"Oh shit, he was going to start writing the books again, wasn't he?"  
  
"Not was, has, and they're doing really well. Not that anyone could really have thought that they wouldn't, but it was still nerve wrecking as we waited for word to come back from the editors and publishers, but of course they loved it."  
  
"You mean all of that's just out there for anyone to read?" Samuel demanded, clearly still having a hard time processing it all.  
  
"Yep, who are you anyway? Oh wait, you're Samuel Campbell aren't you? Mary's father and the one who was killed by Azazel and then mysteriously brought back just over a year ago, right?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Speaking of mysterious resurrections, Chuck wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would he?" Sam questioned. "Samuel's or mine?"  
  
"No," Becky said with a huff, returning her attention to the computer screen.  
  
"Becky, please."  
  
"I need to update my site."  
  
"I thought you said that you closed it down."  
  
"No, I closed down More Than Brothers, this is my new one, Destiel Forever."


	114. Chapter 113

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean finds his kalsika.

**PAST**  
  
  
Dean tried to do what Michael said and reached out as much as he could with his soul. It felt weird, between his doing that and the archangel drawing back as much as it was possible for Michael to do, he was far closer to the surface than he'd ever been while his friend was using him as a vessel. In some ways it was almost like reaching out for Castiel much as he had done before and he had to forcibly restrain himself from doing so. Not only did that seem to get easier to do with each repetition, but the last thing he wanted now was to alert his lover as to what it was that he was doing just now. Even if most of him wanted nothing more than to bury himself in the feel of Castiel in the way that he got to experience his lover while hosting an archangel.  
  
" _Go left,_ " Dean instructed, not quite sure why but left seemed to be the right way to go.  
  
The awe he'd felt upon first catching sight of the Garden of Eden hadn't faded in the slightest, but Dean forced himself to look past that and to focus on the task at hand. Given the significance of the kalsika to angelic bondings, he wanted to do this right. Well because of that but also since he really wanted to experience what it was that Castiel felt for him and this ritual would allow him to have exactly that. They were all so beautiful though, each kalsika shining brilliantly where it hung among the fruit of the trees. Each of them was like a miniature sun that dazzled and made him want to weep for the radiance and beauty of it all. He wasn't sure how Adam and Eve had survived being able to look at them, but he could see why it was that Eve had been unable to resist the kalsikas as well as the fruit.  
  
" _It did not do her any good in the end,_ " Michael stated, wandering slowly along the paths in the grove. " _She was neither pure enough nor driven by the right desire when touching one of them and was thus warped beyond all recognition._ "  
  
" _What do you mean?_ " Dean asked, frowning.  
  
" _The kalsika are powerful and without the purity of purpose that power overwhelmed her and twisted her into something dark and evil, always hungering for more of that power even after it was far beyond her grasp forever._ "  
  
" _Then why put the kalsika here in the first place? Why create that kind of temptation?_ "  
  
" _It was a test._ "  
  
" _What?_ " Dean snorted bitterly. " _Like the Apocalypse? Dude, your Father needs to take some serious parenting classes if he thought that was ever going to end in anything other than pain and disappointment._ "  
  
He could feel Michael bristle and Dean winced, knowing he could have worded that far better. But what could he say? God was most definitely still a sore spot for him and he wasn't going to apologize for disliking the Guy, not after all that had happened over the course of the past few years, even if it had ultimately brought him his lover and best friend along with Raphael who was rapidly becoming another friend. No matter how good it might turn out for him in the end, far too many people had died needlessly for him to be able to let his anger and indignation go so easily.  
  
" _And that is why you are the one that Father chose to fight this Apocalypse, why you are the Righteous Man,_ " Michael replied softly. " _Because you always manage to view not only the bigger picture, but to never, never forget the human cost no matter how small it might seem when viewed on a global scale._ "  
  
" _Shut up, Mike,_ " Dean hissed, squirming with embarrassment.  
  
" _But to address your other point, would you really have wanted to remain here, in the Garden of Eden?_ "  
  
" _Huh?_ "  
  
" _Do you wish that humanity had remained here as Adam and Eve were instead of having been banished and given Earth and free will?_ "  
  
Oh, well when Michael put it like  _that_ , Dean found that he had a hard time complaining. It might be dark and miserable at times, full of nothing but pain and suffering, but life on Earth was theirs to do with as they pleased and they were not bound by the arbitrary rules of a God that didn't seem bothered to hang around anymore and keep his wayward children in line. He already knew how much he'd give up to preserve his right to exercise his free will even if it meant that he ended up paying the price for his bad choices. They were his to make and his to suffer from, not someone else's.  
  
" _It won't do the same to me, though, will it?_ " Dean questioned. " _Like what it did to Eve?_ "  
  
" _No, of course not, Little One. Your soul is pure and you want to use the kalsika for its intended purpose instead of for a selfish desire to possess it and its power._ "  
  
" _Okay, good. Just checking._ "  
  
" _I would not allow you to do this if I thought there was any chance of your being harmed in the process,_ " Michael promised.  
  
" _Thanks,_ " Dean replied, the words warming him even as they embarrassed him. Then there was a tickle along the very edge of his soul and he shivered. " _Right, go right here._ "  
  
Michael did as requested and Dean shivered again as the leaves of one of the trees caught the edge of his archangel's outer wings and sent little shocks of unexpected feeling through him. Man but that felt weird, like getting sensation from an appendage he shouldn't have but now did as an occupied vessel. Still, it had never happened before as on Earth Michael's wings went through everything except the touch of another angel or him, for whatever reason. Therefore he'd never stopped to think that things would be any different up here, but he really should have realized that in Heaven an angel's wings would be more corporeal. This was their home after all.  
  
The sensation was back, growing stronger and Dean abandoned all other thoughts as he tried to hone in on it more. He was drawn to it in a way that would have freaked out and terrified him if he weren't here with Michael and didn't know for sure that this was a good thing. As it was it was still kinda creepy knowing that something in Heaven could have that kind of effect on him, but he went with it. For Castiel. The more he guided Michael and the closer they got to it, though, the more he liked it and looked forward to finding his and Castiel's kalsika. Well, technically the book said that it was his kalsika that he was finding- the one most compatible with his soul- but once he'd initiated it and basically uploaded his feelings for his lover into it, then it could become Castiel's kalsika as well.  
  
The moment Michael turned his head towards the South as Dean had requested, he could see it and his breath would have caught in his throat if he'd been in control of his own meatsuit. There, hanging from a tree towards the middle of the grove, hung his kalsika. There was absolutely no doubt in his mind that it was the one. If he'd thought that the others radiated a Heavenly glow they had nothing on the sheer brilliance of this particular kalsika. It eclipsed all of the others and was so bright that he had a hard time looking at it even with his archangel enhanced eyes. Michael too, could obviously tell as he didn't have to tell his friend anything for the archangel to take them straight for it.  
  
" _Well done, Little One,_ " Michael stated, stopping at the tree and gazing up at the kalsika. " _It is a particularly powerful one, but then I was expecting as much._ "  
  
" _Why?_ " Dean finally managed to ask, finding it difficult to pull his attention away from the kalsika.  
  
It was so gorgeous and its draw so amazing that it was a real effort to not just reach out for it even though he knew that he had no control over his meatsuit at the moment. Part of Dean was now terrified at the sheer power of the kalsika despite the fact that he knew it was harmless to him. It just wasn't that often that he encountered something that had such a pull on him and normally that wasn't a good thing.   
  
" _Because you seem incapable of doing things normally._ "  
  
" _Very funny._ "  
  
" _Just making an observation,_ " Michael replied, tone full of amusement.  
  
Then the archangel was taking off their flannel shirt and the action caught Dean totally off-guard. He'd never seen Michael do anything with his clothing before. " _Uh, what're you doing, Mike?_ "  
  
" _Picking your kalsika._ "  
  
" _And why do you need my shirt for that?_ "  
  
" _Because if I touch it, it will set itself to me instead of you._ "  
  
" _Oh, right._ "  
  
He'd forgotten about that. Dean was so used to always being awake and aware when Michael was in him that he forgot that this was highly abnormal, no make that exceptional, for a vessel. What he really wanted was to be able to pick the kalsika himself, but he knew that was impossible, so this was the best way of doing it. Besides, it wasn't like he didn't get to experience what it felt like to pluck the kalsika, just that he wasn't in control of his actions as his meatsuit did it. Michael performed the delicate action with all of the care and reverence he could have hoped and his friend carefully cradled the kalsika in his shirt before wrapping it securely like a fragile glass figurine.  
  
" _Are you ready to go, Little One?_ " Michael asked, spreading his wings.  
  
" _Yeah._ "  
  
Dean's awareness of the kalsika had shifted when his friend had plucked it and now he felt less mindlessly drawn to it. Now it was more like a warm presence curled into his chest that fluttered happily and full of anticipation. If he didn't know any better, he'd have thought that it was alive given the way it pulsed warm and bright next to him, as if seeking to reach out and touch his very soul. Which was kinda what he was intended to do with it so perhaps it had been specially designed to do that and make the initiation of it easier. Either way it still felt alive, like some friendly and overzealous pet that wanted desperately to be stroked and coddled. He was so focused on the kalsika that it took him a moment to realize that they weren't, in fact, returning back to Earth. Instead they seemed to be flying to a different part of Heaven. Like before, it was somewhere he didn't recognize in the slightest.  
  
" _Uh, Mike, where are we going?_ "  
  
" _To see Raphael,_ " Michael replied.  
  
The building that came into view was large, white and different from anything that Dean had ever seen before. Though it made sense, he had never given much thought to what angelic architecture might look like and he found that it wasn't even remotely similar to anything that he had ever seen before on Earth. It was nice, though, if a little bland for his tastes, but he hadn't really expected anything else from a Heavenly building. Michael flew them straight into one of the huge window-like spaces that didn't actually contain any glass. The inside of the building was spacious and sparsely furnished, but he quickly lost interest in favor of paying attention to the kalsika. He sorta reached out with his sense, or his soul he supposed, and  _poked_  at it. There was a flare of warmth and light almost as if it had sensed his actions. It was wonderful and fascinating the way the kalsika seemed to almost reach back towards him, as if chasing his soul in a desperate attempt for more.  
  
" _Dean,_ " Michael sighed. " _Leave it alone, Little One._ "  
  
" _But it's fun!_ "  
  
" _It is not a toy._ "  
  
" _I know that._ "  
  
" _Then stop treating it like one._ "  
  
Instead of replying, Dean did the equivalent of sticking out his tongue and then yelped when Michael gave him what felt like a Grace shock. " _Hey! No fair._ "  
  
"Michael."  
  
The voice made Dean aware enough of their surroundings to see Raphael before them, lying propped up on the padded altar-like thing with a book. The archangel's wings lay stretched out on either side of Raphael and he could see the wounds Simiel had caused with the key though they were a lot smaller than before and looked to be healing well. Already there were some new feathers appearing at the edges and it startled him to see that they were silver in color just like those of his lover. It saddened him a little as he knew how hard Castiel had taken that, but it might help his lover to know that he was no longer the only one of the archangels to be thus marked.  
  
"Brother, how are you?" Michael inquired.  
  
"I am fine," Raphael frowned. "Has something happened? I felt a disturbance earlier and you are with Dean."  
  
"Lucifer has struck and he opened one of the Devil's gateways. Castiel and I have resealed it though. I shall tell you more later after I have returned Dean to Earth."  
  
"Why have you come here first?"  
  
"To make sure that Dean had seen you for himself as we told Castiel that we were coming here to do precisely that," Michael explained before he glanced around quickly. "We needed an excuse to come to Heaven before I took Dean back."  
  
With those words, Michael unwrapped the shirt enough so that Raphael could see the kalsika nestled inside of it. The younger archangel made a startled sound, his eyes going wide before he looked up at Michael and Dean could easily read the shock there. Although he'd been a little afraid to also find disapproval there was none to be seen and he felt something relax within him that he hadn't even been aware had been tensed. Obviously he'd been more worried about Raphael's reaction than he'd thought. The archangel's reaction would never have prevented him from going through with the bonding, but he'd much rather not have any of his lover's close siblings against it.  
  
"I believe it is a human custom for us, as elder brothers of Castiel, to warn Dean that we shall make him suffer if he hurts Castiel," Raphael stated solemnly.  
  
Dean sputtered in shock and with indignation while Michael's confusion washed over him.  
  
"I do not understand," Michael stated.  
  
"It was something I saw on human television at one of the motels Dean was at," Raphael explained.  
  
Of course  _that_  was what the archangel remembered of all the things Raphael had seen on TV while with him. That figured. Dean muttered a few choice words under his breath and they seemed to comfort Michael as the angel relaxed against him.  
  
"Dean seems to know what you mean. He is not amused."  
  
That brought a smile to Raphael's face and the archangel gave a quick nod. "I shall keep your secret until Dean is ready to present the kalsika to Castiel."  
  
"Thank you, Brother," Michael replied before taking flight once more. " _Humans have strange customs._ "  
  
" _It's something that only brothers of the bride are supposed to do,_ " Dean explained. " _It's an old-fashioned thing and I know many women who'd kick their brother's ass if they knew that he'd tried to do it._ "  
  
" _Ah, so it's something that Sam should have done to Castiel instead then?_ "  
  
" _Dude, I'm_ not _a chick!_ " Dean protested before realizing he'd been had. " _Very funny, Mike._ " His response was a fond stroke of Grace but then his attention was diverted to the scenery below them where they were rapidly approaching the ground and, more importantly, the Impala. " _Uh, Mike? What are yo-_ "  
  
Dean's question was swallowed by a yelp as the archangel didn't slow or alter their course and he snapped his eyes shut just before they would have hit his baby's roof. Only there was no impact and when he cautiously opened one eye he found himself sitting in the passenger seat. Oh, right, angel, of course Michael could fly them  _into_  his baby rather than crashing into her roof. Still, the bastard could have warned him.  
  
" _Why are here?_ " Dean questioned, not wanting to give Michael the satisfaction of a reprimand as he knew his friend had done it on purpose.  
  
" _Well I assume that you wish to keep the acquisition of the kalsika a secret until you have properly initiation it,_ " Michael replied as he leaned forward and opened the glove compartment. " _Therefore I thought it best to leave it here until Castiel is gone._ "  
  
Oh, right, that made sense. They only stayed in the Impala long enough for Michael to stow the kalsika away safely and then they flew right into the apartment that they'd vacated so abruptly earlier in the day. Or had that been yesterday or even earlier in the week? Dean really did lose all track of time whenever he was with Michael like this.


	115. Chapter 114

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael has a surprise gift for Dean and Castiel.

**PAST**  
  
  
The moment that Michael zapped them back into the apartment, the smell of pizza assaulted Dean's nose and not just any pizza either, but the really frigging amazing stuff that Castiel always brought him straight from Italy. If he'd been in control of his own meatsuit, his mouth would have been watering instantly.  
  
" _Well, it's been swell, but I'll catch you later,_ " Dean said, mind already on his meal.  
  
" _Not just yet,_ " Michael replied.  
  
" _Huh? What? We did everything we needed to!_ " Dean protested, almost able to feel his stomach growl even though he knew that was impossible with Michael in control.  
  
" _There is something else I wish to do first._ "  
  
" _Now? When there's delicious pizza ready to be consumed?_ "  
  
With a ripple of Grace much like a sigh, Michael headed towards the pizza and Dean perked up. " _You gonna do what I think you're gonna do?_ "  
  
Instead of replying, his friend picked up a slice and bit into it. For a second Dean had the crazy urge to tell Michael to be careful as the cheese was still sizzling but then he realized that, hey, archangel, so it didn't really matter. The pizza was every bit as delicious as he'd expected it to be even with the peppers he saw on the slice. Castiel really was going to get him to like vegetables at this rate. The pizza, like the pie and the pancakes, was obviously a hit if the wave of surprise and delight he got from his friend was anything to go by.  
  
"Michael?" Castiel questioned, coming to stand beside them.  
  
"Sorry, Dean's enthusiasm for the pizza made me wish to taste it," Michael explained.  
  
His lover shifted in a surprisingly human reaction and Dean wondered how much he'd rubbed off on Castiel. Well, he found himself tilting his head now on occasion, so it made sense that his lover had picked up some of his habits as well.  
  
" _Mike?_ " Dean prompted.  
  
" _What is it that you humans say?_ " Michael inquired. " _When one person is so hopelessly smitten with another that they will do all that they wish?_ "  
  
" _Shut up._ "  
  
" _I know there is an expression._ "  
  
" _I'm not telling you._ "  
  
"I can get more if you wish some as well," Castiel offered.  
  
"That will not be necessary," Michael stated, finishing his slice. "There is something I wish to do for you, both of you."  
  
" _Really?_ " Dean asked. " _What?_ "  
  
And there was his lover's famous head tilt. "Brother?" Castiel questioned.  
  
"Come," Michael said, walking straight past the sofa with Deirdre's prone form, down the hall and into the bedroom.  
  
" _Uh, Mike?_ " Dean questioned uncertainly. " _What are you doing?_ "  
  
" _Shush, trust me._ "  
  
Calmly, and clearly enjoying himself, Michael seated himself on the end of the bed with his back to Castiel. Dean frowned as he tried to figure out what his friend was doing. There was the shivery sensation of wing movement and his lover drew in a sharp breath.  
  
" _What?_ " Dean demanded. " _What?_ "  
  
"Brother, are you sure?" Castiel asked, amazed.  
  
Michael turned his head to look over his shoulder at Castiel and Dean was startled at the expression of wonder on his lover's face. "I would not be offering if I was not. Think of it as a gift."  
  
" _What are you guys talking about?_ " Dean pressed.  
  
" _Hush, Little One, you will enjoy it, I promise._ "  
  
" _Mike!_ "  
  
There was a ripple of fond exasperation before his friend caved. " _I am going to let you experience what it is that you do for Castiel so willingly on a regular basis._ "  
  
" _Huh?_ "  
  
Before Michael could reply and explain any further, Dean gasped as a sensation unlike any other washed over him. His eyes dropped closed as it morphed into pleasure not dissimilar to a really good massage, one of those full body ones, or a really nice, long session of magic fingers. Only it was better and he hadn't thought that was even possible.  
  
" _What's that?_ " Dean inquired before it hit him. " _Oh._ Oh _!_ "  
  
It was Castiel.  
  
It was Castiel  _grooming_  him.  
  
Or rather grooming them, but the essential fact remained. Now that Dean realized what it was he could feel his lover's fingers as they carded through Michael's feathers, carefully oiling them and setting them in their proper place. It felt amazing and he'd never realized just how sensitive an angel's wings were even given his lover's reactions to his own ministrations.  
  
" _Yes, do you like it?_ " Michael teased.  
  
" _Are you kidding me, this is awesome!_ "  
  
If he'd been in control of these wings, Dean would have been preening now, stretching them out and shamelessly begging for more. Michael chuckled before he obligingly stretched his wings for him. There was a laugh from behind them before he yelped as Castiel suddenly tugged at a feather.  
  
" _Bastard,_ " Dean muttered before he all but melted at whatever his lover did next.  
  
" _Enjoying yourself, Little One?_ " Michael inquired, voice rife with amusement which then rippled over him.  
  
" _Dude, you can say whatever you want right now and I'm not gonna mind._ "  
  
" _I am pleased._ "  
  
"What does he think of it?" Castiel inquired.  
  
"He is enjoying it very much," Michael replied.  
  
" _Understatement of the year,_ " Dean said before he hesitated.  
  
" _What is it?_ "  
  
" _Well it's just... uh... when I groom Cas it's quite often..._ "  
  
" _Sexual?_ "  
  
" _Yeah, that._ "  
  
" _A massage from your brother feels quite different from one Castiel gives you, does it not?_ "  
  
" _Sam never gave me a massage, but point taken,_ " Dean replied.  
  
And that was probably a very good thing too as he could only imagine how awkward it would have been if this had affected Michael in any other way. Actually no, he'd really rather  _not_  imagine that particular scenario. That was just wrong on so many levels, even for him and he firmly pushed the thought from his mind.  
  
The knowledge that, between the two archangels, he was perfectly safe allowed Dean to bask in the wonderful sensations without needing to worry or keep a cautious eye out, just in case. In fact he was getting to do that so often the past few months that he wondered how he was ever going to deal with long stretches of hunting on his own or with just other human hunters. But then he thought of the kalsika and realized that if he played his cards right then he'd never be alone like that again, though even without the bonding that was most likely true, but he wanted it anyway. Wanted Castiel like that, as close as he could have him.  
  
Time distorted even more than normal for Dean while playing vessel but on this occasion he totally didn't mind as he was floating on a sea of pleasure and relaxation. Michael's amusement and affection only added to the pleasant haze and he gave into the desire to just let himself go, burrowing as deep into the sensation as it was possible to get. He was suddenly very happy for the size and number of Michael's wings as it meant that there was a lot to groom. He happily returned his friend's affection as the archangel continued to obligingly stretch each wing he wanted as Castiel meticulously worked his way through them, one at a time.  
  


* * *

  
  
Castiel had always found the task of grooming his brothers and sisters to be very soothing and, to be honest, he did miss it on occasion now that he no longer went to any of them to get his own wings groomed. He'd never give up having Dean groom them for him, but he did miss grooming itself a little. This opportunity- no, this  _gift_ \- of Michael's though, he couldn't even begin to express his gratitude for it and he could only hope that his brother was able to sense enough of what Dean was feeling to understand how much they appreciated it. Or at least he hoped his human loved it as much as he did.  
  
"How is Dean?" Castiel inquired.  
  
"I have never felt him this happy and relaxed before. His soul is like a warm ball of light and pleasure at the moment, pulsing and shining brighter than ever. He is almost as radiant as the sun just now. And best of all, he is incoherent too," Michael replied before he laughed.  
  
"What?"  
  
"He just said that I am incoherent."  
  
Castiel smiled at the words, more than pleased. Whenever Dean simply spat back what someone had said to him, generally something he didn't like, it meant that his hunter was at a loss as to anything better to say and that only happened on rare occasions when his mate was either caught off-guard or as incoherent as it was possible for Dean Winchester to get. Knowing how much it pleased his mate, he dug his fingers in extra deep, recalling each and every last thing he had ever learned about how his brothers and sisters liked to be groomed and performing it now. After all of the times Dean had taken care of his wings, he was determined to make this as good for his mate as possible. And if he made it so good that Michael wanted more later, then so much the better.  
  
Far too soon, Castiel was finished grooming his brother's last wing and while ending meant that he'd get his mate back, he wished that there were more feathers and wings to groom as he enjoyed pleasuring both Michael and Dean at the same. Especially when it meant giving his hunter a gift such as this.  
  
"I should get back to Heaven and continue my research," Michael finally said, as if reluctant to break the silence though he rose to his feet and stretched his wings languidly.  
  
It was a gesture that Castiel easily recognized from all of the times that he had done the exact same thing after a good and thorough grooming and he found himself unconsciously mimicking the movements.  
  
"Yes and Dean should eat," Castiel agreed.  
  
Michael nodded once and looked at him. "Thank you, Brother."  
  
"No, thank you."  
  
"It was a pleasure, truly. You are very good at grooming, Castiel."  
  
"It is something I have always enjoyed."  
  
Michael flew into the other room and Castiel followed, smiling as he could hear his mate's complaints about the necessity of 'zapping' across such a short distance. He stood close by as his brother transferred back to Deirdre Winchester's body and it was a good thing that he did so as Dean slumped sideways as soon as Michael was gone and only his quick reactions prevented his mate from losing his perch on the sofa.  
  
"Dean?" Castiel inquired worriedly, already reaching out with his Grace.  
  
As soon as he touched his mate's soul, Castiel relaxed, sensing that it was a deep state of relaxation to the point being only partially aware that caused the lack of control instead of something far more serious. In fact the discovery made him feel rather smug and very, very pleased, knowing that it was he who had done this to his hunter. Dean hummed deep in his throat, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes before taking hold of his tie and pulling him closer for a kiss. For them it was a very tame and chaste kiss, but for all that it touched him deeply, the sheer emotion and gentleness behind it reverberating far more strongly with him than a more fierce kiss ever could.  
  
Afterwards, Dean rested his head against his shoulder and Castiel could feel the sudden wave of exhaustion that swept through his mate and he was abruptly reminded of the fact that Dean had only recently helped them create a new seal and would not yet have had the time to recover from that. Without a moment's hesitation, he swept his hunter up into his arms and turned them so that he sat on the couch with Dean in his lap so that both of his mate's legs were on one side and allowing Dean to lean against him and use him as a pillow. The fact that his mate only made a small noise of protest told him that he'd been right, as did the sudden loud growl of Dean's stomach.  
  
"Here, Little One, eat and build up your energy once more," Michael said, suddenly appearing by their side with the pizza box.  
  
Castiel took hold of the box with the hand that wasn't securely wrapped around his mate waist and held it so that Dean could easily get at it. The rate at which the first few slices disappeared would have been amazing to anyone who didn't know his hunter. As it was it made Michael shake his head in a mixture of amusement and fondness before his brother left with a final farewell. He continued to just hold his mate and watch him eat as Dean didn't seem awake enough to do more than one thing at a time and he wondered instead at the pleasure he got out of just watching Dean eat. Was it simply because he knew that it was something that his hunter enjoyed? Or was there something more complicated behind it? He knew that he had learned a lot about emotions and what it meant to feel them, but there was also still much that he didn't yet know or understand.  
  
One thing that Castiel did know for sure was that Dean was not going to get all the way through the pizza no matter how much his mate might want to. Dean was slowing rapidly and had to blink his eyes more and more so he put aside the pizza box and took them back into the bedroom. If it wasn't for the utterly relaxed state of his mate, he would have been worried at how passive Dean was as he undressed his hunter, doing it the human way to be able to enjoy just touching his mate and slowly revealing more of his beautiful body. His human was so tired that he was sure that Dean was asleep before he even got his mate horizontal and he smiled as he undressed and climbed in next to him.  
  
For a few minutes Castiel just enjoyed lying in bed with Dean, letting the warmth and feel of his mate soak into him, before he reached out towards Xarael to see how the hunt for the newly escaped demons was going. He made a few suggestions when he learned of the progress before they moved on to the other tasks he had to oversee as Sheriff of Heaven as Dean had so aptly dubbed him. Or at least he so assumed as he wasn't entirely sure what a sheriff was or how it differed from any other type of cop or FBI agent that he had encountered with the Winchesters, but there had been no hint of teasing in his mate's voice when Dean had called him that so he assumed the title was genuine if no doubt misguided due to Dean's lack of knowledge regarding Heavenly protocol and structure.  
  
The movements were slight at first, but they instantly captured Castiel's attention as it had been a long time since Dean had fallen victim to a true nightmare, especially while in his presence. He reached out and softly brushed two fingers across his mate's forehead, intending to send Dean deeper into sleep, safely beyond the realm of dreams and nightmares, but something resisted his touch. True he could push harder, but he didn't know why it wasn't enough and he didn't want to risk hurting his mate. Instead he reached out with his Grace and connected with Dean's mind, slipping into the nightmare.  
  
Castiel gasped as one of Heaven's many landscapes took form around him. There were clouds everywhere, dark and gray, threatening; ominous. Thunder rumbled all around him and electricity crackled all along his being though there was no actual lightening just yet. It was only a matter of time though as he could taste the storm in the air and everything was balanced on a knife's edge, just a hair away from exploding with truly ferocious violence. With a sudden terrifying clarity, even for an angel, he remembered and recognized this scene despite the fact that he had only ever seen Heaven like this once in all of his long, long life. The memory brought back all of the emotion that he had felt back then and exactly why he hadn't wanted things to take that final step as he'd rightly feared that this was one storm from which they might never recover. He'd known that it could tear them all apart leaving only scattered and broken remnants in its wake when it blew over.  
  
 _If_  it blew over.  
  
He now desperately wished that he hadn't been so right in fearing that, but Castiel knew better than to give the desire more than a fleeting thought. Instead he turned his attention to his mate though he was terrified of what he might find given that there was no way that Dean could have any recollection of these events which had taken place countless thousands of millennia before his mate's birth.  
  
As Castiel had feared, it wasn't Dean that he saw when he turned around, but rather it was Michael in all of his brother's terrifying glory as the Right Hand of God and their Father's Instrument of Judgment.  
  



	116. Chapter 115

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel, Dean and Michael try to figure out Dean's nightmare and how he came to have it.

**PAST**  
  
  
Terror gripped Castiel as he stared at his mate, replete with Michael's wings, robes and fierce expression. He had not been assigned to the worst area of fighting during the Rebellion and had thus not witnessed the battle between the archangels first hand, but he had caught sight of the first created angel that day and it was enough to instantly recognize who and what Dean was subconsciously emulating right now. The thought of what this might mean was too horrible to contemplate, so he didn't, deciding to focus his attention to the problem at hand first.  
  
"Dean?" Castiel tried softly.  
  
Although it looked like Michael stood before him, Castiel knew that it couldn't be his brother, not really. Michael had left Dean hours ago and so only his mate remained no matter what Dean's mind might conjure up just now. The truly frightening part was  _how_  his mate had managed to so accurately reproduce a part of Heaven that Dean had never seen and especially from a time so very long ago. There was really only one explanation and it scared him in a way nothing else ever had before. Raphael's words of how Dean and Michael had almost seemed  _fused_  after performing the Rite of Contressa came back to him and he'd taken a few steps closer to his mate before realizing that he'd moved. A cry of denial threatened to fall from his lips but he managed to swallow it back just in time.  
  
"Cas?" Dean replied, looking confused and shaken.  
  
"I'm right here, Dean," Castiel reassured, closing the space between them and pulling his mate close, being careful of the large wings protruding from his hunter's back.  
  
"What's going on, Cas? Am I dreaming?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
The dreamscape was shifting around the edges, slowly morphing into something else and Castiel nearly cried with relief as he recognized one of the figures lurking in the shadows as Ruby and then another as Zachariah, but of his brother as he'd appeared on Earth, not in Heaven. It proved that his mate was truly still with him as those were not elements that were true or things which Michael would have bothered with. The blending of events like this, of fact and fiction merging into one, was a true indicator of the human mind and, more importantly, of a human dream.  
  
"I don't like this dream," Dean stated plaintively and Castiel felt like he suddenly knew what humans meant when they said that their heart clenched.  
  
The nightmare itself or something about how his mate had come to have it in the first place had left Dean feeling particularly vulnerable and now that he had his hunter's attention focused on him, he tried to pull Dean free once more. This time it worked and he grabbed his mate as Dean gasped as he woke and bolted into an upright position.  
  
"Shh, it is over now," Castiel reassured his mate. "You are awake."  
  
"Crap, I hate that nightmare," Dean muttered, reorienting himself.  
  
The words crystallized the fear within Castiel and he tightened his hold on his hunter. "You have had it before?"  
  
"Yeah, quite a few times lately as a matter of fact."  
  
" _Michael!_ " Castiel called out, desperately hoping that there was a reasonable explanation for this that he just hadn't thought of or was overlooking at the moment.  
  
Anything but  _that_. Anything but what he feared was true.  
  
A quick glance down showed Castiel that Dean was far more exposed than his mate would like so he pulled the sheets over Dean's lap and then folded some of his wings over their lower bodies just before Michael arrived. His brother was on high alert, immediately scanning the room for any sign of danger before looking towards them and he could see the moment that Michael realized that something was wrong with his vessel.  
  
"Castiel, what has happened?" Michael demanded, stepping closer to them.  
  
"He had a nightmare," Castiel replied.  
  
"Surely this is common for humans?"  
  
"More so than I'd like, but this one was different."  
  
"No it wasn't," Dean muttered, making as if to push himself upright before he froze, most likely remembering his state of undress. "I told you I've had it before, Cas."  
  
"Yes, I meant that the nature of this nightmare was different from any that you have had before, even if you have had this one a few times."  
  
"How's it different? It was just something my mind conjured up based on all those texts that I've been reading."  
  
"No, it was not," Castiel disagreed before looking to his brother. "Dean was dreaming of the Rebellion. He was dreaming about it accurately."  
  
Michael frowned and glanced at Dean briefly. "What do you mean, accurately?"  
  
"I mean that every last detail he was seeing and hearing was correct. His mind wasn't making it up based on what he'd read, he was recalling it exactly as it happened."  
  
"Huh, what?" Dean questioned and then looked at Michael as he gasped. "How could I do that?"  
  
"Are you sure, Brother?" Michael demanded urgently. "Absolutely sure?"  
  
"Yes, I wish that I were not, but I am," Castiel confirmed.  
  
"Uh, guys, what are you talking about?" Dean asked.  
  
"Did you ever share that memory with him, Michael?"  
  
"No, I did not. I would not wish to subject him to that," Michael replied.  
  
"Then how did he obtain it?"  
  
"I am not sure."  
  
"Are you guys saying what I think you're saying?" Dean demanded, voice suddenly wary and hard with an edge of fear his mate probably didn't want to acknowledge, even to himself.  
  
"Yes," Castiel confirmed, knowing his hunter had figured it out and deserved the truth no matter how much he wished that he could hide it from Dean in order to protect him from it.  
  
Far too many people had already done that to his mate in Dean's life and most often with detrimental consequences. For once in his life, Dean deserved honesty and a fair say in what happened to him and Castiel was determined to give that to his mate no matter the personal cost to himself. Besides, more often than not, Dean would uncover the truth anyway and then end up taking far riskier action than what his mate would have done if he'd only just been told the truth from the beginning.  
  
"Shit."  
  
Michael snorted at his mate's response and Castiel couldn't help but notice what a Dean-like response that was and it chilled him. He had, of course, noticed how big of an influence his hunter had been on Michael, but he'd always assumed that it was a good thing as his brother had needed a strong dose of human perspective and who better to give it to Michael than his strong-willed mate? Now, however, it was a blatant sign of just how strongly the two of them had been changing since Dean had said yes and the first time that his mate had housed Michael within himself. Was he going to lose both of them to whatever was happening? The thought had him clutching Dean closer to him and his mate made a startled sound that had an undercurrent of discomfort to it and he instantly loosened his too tight grip.  
  
"Sorry," Castiel apologized, caressing the spot soothingly.  
  
"S'okay," Dean replied softly.  
  
When their gazes met, Castiel could see fear in his hunter's eyes and knew that Dean understood exactly how serious this situation was. His first instinct was to forbid Michael from ever taking his true vessel again, but he knew how unpractical that response was. Not only was it nearly impossible as their situation all but guaranteed that Michael would need to take Dean at least once more, but his mate would never not do something just because it might be detrimental to himself. At least these days he had the comfort of knowing that Dean would no longer do it out of a sense that he wasn't important or didn't matter to anyone. No, now his mate would regret needing to do it but still not let that stop him from doing what was right if it was indeed their last and only course of action.  
  
Castiel was determined to ensure that it never came to that type of situation.  
  
" _How_  did this happen?" Dean asked.  
  
"I do not know, it never has before," Michael replied.  
  
"It must have something to do with the melding that Raphael mentioned before, after you performed the Rite of Contressa," Castiel stated.  
  
"Yes, but it does not explain what it was or how it happened either."  
  
"Unless it was meant to," Dean suggested softly.  
  
Castiel could feel his mate tensing as Dean said it and he frowned. "What do you mean?"  
  
"Well, it's never been used before, the Rite I mean, and it was clearly meant to be performed by Mike and I, so what if it was meant to do this? What if this was always going to happen as a result of using it?"  
  
"You mean an unpreventable side effect?" Michael questioned with a frown.  
  
Dean hesitated. "Yeah, or perhaps an intended one."  
  
The sudden realization of what it was that Dean was implying hit Castiel hard and he knew why his mate was so tense. It wasn't that his hunter was worried for himself, but rather for them and how they would take this news.  
  
"You think Father wanted this to transpire?" Castiel asked.  
  
Dean shrugged. "I'm just throwing it out there as a possibility."  
  
"But to what end?" Michael inquired.  
  
"I don't know. You're really asking me what God's thinking? He's your Father, if you don't know then how the hell should I?"  
  
"Do not underestimate yourself, Little One. I believe it has become more than clear that you are more in tune with Father's wishes and desire than any of us except, perhaps, for Castiel."  
  
"I was merely following Dean," Castiel stated simply.  
  
"Yeah, well, I've got no clue," Dean replied wearily. "I can't see what the use of this might be."  
  
"Has there been anything else? Anything that you might simply have written off as being nothing at the time?"  
  
"No, not that I can think of anyway."  
  
"If you do think of something, let us know at once."  
  
"Yeah, sure."  
  
Castiel regarded his mate for a moment, their eyes locking together, as he sought for any deception. It wasn't that he didn't trust Dean, but rather that he knew his hunter tended to put himself dead last and would thus avoid saying something until Dean felt like it was the right time to worry others. He found none and he desperately hoped that meant that his mate knew better now, but he would pay extra close attention to ensure that it didn't happen again, just in case.  
  
He glanced up when Michael stepped closer and placed a hand on his mate's forehead. Dean frowned, looking up at Castiel's brother but made no move to pull away and instead his hunter closed his eyes as Michael ran his Grace over his human's soul. There was a surge of jealousy that he had to fight down, knowing that his brother wasn't trying to claim his mate but the ease and familiarity of the possessive gesture still rankled. He wasn't sure if the fact that Michael had earned the right to act like that with Dean made it any better or worse. In the end he took some satisfaction in the fact that his brother had to be constantly battling the same territorial instincts when it came to himself and Dean, even though he knew it was not a particularly angelic emotion to have.  
  
With an effort, Castiel made himself look past his own reaction to observe how Michael was scanning Dean. What would normally have been an arduous and difficult task was made to seem easy and quick due to the way his mate's soul responded, readily allowing the archangel's touch and almost seeming to revel in it. The new flash of jealousy was quickly drowned out by worry as he noticed spots where Dean's soul almost seemed to attach itself and stick to Michael's Grace instead of just sliding along it. That was most definitely not normal and he watched as his brother carefully separated them once more before stepping back a little.  
  
"Uh, not that I'm complaining or anything as I'm definitely not, but what was that for?" Dean inquired, slowly opening his eyes.  
  
"I needed to check something," Michael explained before covering his true vessel's eyes. "Castiel, please do it as well."  
  
Dean huffed as if annoyed at being passed around like some soul toy, but his mate didn't actually complain and Castiel could see the way his soul flared brighter in anticipation. That was all the invitation that he needed so he placed a hand on Dean's head and reached out for his mate's soul as he had watched Michael do. Any residual jealousy was quickly washed away at the enthusiastic way Dean reached out to him, his mate's soul readily entwining itself with his Grace, as if seeking to burrow into his very essence. Despite that, however, he didn't feel the same sticking and melding that he had observed with his brother's Grace. Despite both of them seeking as much closeness as they could get, they remained two distinct and separate entities. Which was normal and a good thing, but it still begged the question of  _why_  it was happening with Dean and Michael, though it probably had something to do with the bond between an archangel and his vessel. Yet that didn't make a whole lot of sense either as vessels were specifically designed to hold an angel's Grace, not blend with it.  
  
It was with great reluctance that Castiel finally pulled back. The knowledge of how difficult it would be to do so was one of the reasons why he hadn't really done this before. That and the fear that Dean might view it as far too invasive given his mate's former fierce resistance to saying yes. Clearly that had changed drastically and it allowed him to think of and consider possibilities that he'd denied himself the luxury of indulging in before. For a moment he thought that he wouldn't be able to do it, to break away, as Dean clung to him and he didn't have the heart to push his mate away, but then Dean slowly relaxed his hold and finally let him go.  
  
When he turned his attention back towards his brother, Castiel found a pensive expression on Michael's face. "It appears to be specific to you and Dean."  
  
"Yes, which would seem to lend credence to Dean's theory," Michael agreed.  
  
"It's just one possibility," Dean shrugged. "We could be overlooking the other options here without even realizing it."  
  
"Could you tell the difference, Little One?"  
  
"Uh, yeah, kinda."  
  
"Kinda?" Castiel prompted, letting the colloquialism roll off his tongue. It earned him a quick smile.  
  
"I could feel that something was different, but I wouldn't be able to describe how or why."  
  
"I shall go speak with Raphael and a few others about this, see if they can divine another reason for what is going on."  
  
"Good luck," Dean said before looking to him once Michael had flown off. "Can you stay a while longer or do you also need to go?"  
  
"I have some more time, but then I must go aid in the hunt for the demons that escaped today as some of them seem to have eluded our pursuit," Castiel responded. "I can guard your sleep for the rest of the night, though."  
  
"Do you think there's any chance of catching them?"  
  
"It may be difficult as they seem to have gotten help from other demons."  
  
"Demons helping other demons? Oh that can't be good."  
  
"No, I fear that Lucifer might have given some of them tasks to accomplish for which they must work together. It is one of the only reasons that they would do so, especially with some of them only just out of Perdition."  
  
"Crap."  
  
"I believe that describes things quite well," Castiel said, garnering himself a quick little laugh.  
  
"No, seriously, the last time was bad enough, but for it to happen again... We just have no luck. Okay, so I think we need to think about how we could find out where the demons might hav-"  
  
Suddenly his mate's eyes went wide and Dean was scrambling out of Castiel's arms. He let his human go, admiring the view as Dean turned to stretch across the bed for his cell phone. Once his mate had it, Dean rolled over and lay carelessly stretched out as he selected a number from his contact list. Although he was curious who his hunter was calling, he found himself distracted by all of the naked skin on display and Dean's half hard cock so it wasn't until he heard Crowley's voice that he returned his attention to what his mate was doing.  
  
"Hello to you too, Crowley," Dean snarked, shifting slightly and Castiel couldn't help but watch the resulting play of strong muscles under soft skin.  
  
"Ready to talk to me yet, cupcake?" Crowley drawled.  
  
The nickname had Castiel's hackles rising and he forced himself to pay more attention to his mate's gorgeous body in order to keep his temper.  
  
"I need information."  
  
"On who?"  
  
"Some demons."  
  
"Sorry, darling, but I'm not helping you hunt down my kind, just Lucifer."  
  
"The demons I want just got let out of Hell by Lucifer today when he blew open one of the gateways. Who do you think that they're gonna be loyal to? We also have reason to believe that your dear father has given them an assignment or two. Do you really want to see those come to fruition?"  
  
"All right, all right, you've made your point. I'll see what I can dig up, but I am not going after them."  
  
"Of course not, I wouldn't dream of you getting your hands dirty," Dean retorted.  
  
"That smart mouth of yours is going to get you into trouble one of these days, cupcake."  
  
"Bite me."  
  
The plan was a good one, Castiel knew. Crowley was far more likely to be able to pick up something useful than they were, but the best part was that it gave them more time to themselves while things were still being done to track down the demons. Time which he had no intention of wasting. The moment that Dean ended the call, he pounced, fully intending to take his mate. His hunter, however, seemed to have other plans, moving at just the right moment so his momentum rolled them and he was underneath his human.  
  
"No," Dean admonished, placing biting kisses along his neck and chest. "I wanna fuck you."  
  



	117. Chapter 116

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alone, Dean turns his attention to initiating his kalsika.

**PAST**  
  
  
Dean managed to wait for half an hour after Castiel had left before he just couldn't just sit around and read anymore. Not now that he had everything to really start the ritual anyway. Thoughts of the kalsika and the bonding had threatened to creep in all morning and it had been all that he could do to not really think about them but he couldn't risk it, not with his lover around. The fact that Castiel hadn't picked up on it proved that his angel wasn't constantly listening in on his thoughts but he knew that Castiel would occasionally pick up something without meaning to, so he'd done his best to distract himself, which would have been easy enough if he'd really wanted to start something, but he knew that his lover had things to see to and he himself had research to do. Still, it had been far too tempting and he'd only resisted as he'd noticed that Castiel was already communicating with some of his brothers and sisters from the distracted look his angel had sported every now and then.  
  
Now, however, there was absolutely nothing to force Dean to push those thoughts from his mind and he was impressed that he'd managed to resist for as long as he had. Willpower had never been his strong suit, not when it was something that he wanted as much as this and there were no adverse consequences to acting upon the desire as soon as he possibly could. Only the fear that Castiel might pop back in to get something that his lover had forgotten had kept from him from getting things ready right away. But now that half an hour had elapsed he could be quite sure that Castiel wasn't going to come back any time soon and his patience was gone.  
  
Even before he had started thinking about  _how_  he would get his hands on a kalsika, Dean had already been gathering the necessary ingredients for the ritual and it was a good thing that he had as some of them were a little more difficult to acquire. His experience as a hunter, though, had taught him how to get his hands on a range of illegal or unusual items and thus he'd succeeded even if he was sure that he'd caused a few raised eyebrows at the Vatican among those who were no doubt keeping an eye on his new credit card transactions. It made him smile to think of as he wondered just what they thought he might be up to. Oh to be a fly on those holy walls at the right times! The desire to go use his card at a sex shop still lingered though that temptation he had, surprisingly, been able to resist up until now. The only explanation he could come up with for that was that his relationship with Castiel was anything but a laughing matter and while he loved the idea of riling up those stuffy old coots across the Atlantic, he simply couldn't seem to bring himself to use his lover like that, even if he knew that Castiel would be more amused by it than anything else. How many times had his angel told him of the inaccuracies of the Bible again? He'd lost count.  
  
The first thing that Dean did was to draw his chair under the fire detector so he could get at it to remove the battery from the device. Given how often he performed rituals or tasks which required him to disable to the alarm, he knew that he really should just not return the battery to it but he simply couldn't bring himself to do that. Although parts of his memory of that fateful night in November all of those years ago was hazy in parts, he could easily remember the fire alarm going off when the fire had first started. He had worked through his fear of fire in general a long time ago (he'd had to in order to be a hunter, not to mention the fact that he'd been determined to conquer the fear and not let the demon that had killed Mom to win in that area at least even if he couldn't do much beyond that), he found that he just couldn't permanently disable a fire alarm even now. On nights where his lover stayed with him it really didn't matter the alarm worked or not, but when he was on his own it could mean the difference between life and death and he was determined not to go like that. Not after all that he had done and survived. It would be such a stupid way to die.  
  
Not sure how sensitive the alarms were, Dean disabled the ones in the kitchen and bedroom as well, just in case. Then he pulled the box of ingredients from where he'd shoved it to the back of his closet (he was still getting used to actually having one instead of having all of his stuff permanently stuffed into his duffel). He cleared the center of the living room before setting out the snow white candles. The ritual called for forty-nine of them, seven times seven, a powerful magic number. Next came the large ring of salt, an ingredient he'd not had to go looking for, over which he then sprinkled a mixture of iron shavings and myrrh soaked in Holy water. Into a new silver bowl went Holy oil, sand from Jerusalem and rose petals grown by a virgin. He'd long since given up trying to figure out how these things were decided, but the latter had raised even his eyebrows. Surely the sexual status of the person growing the roses couldn't really matter, could it? Regardless, he'd been good and gone out of his way to get his hands on them though it had taken some doing. The fact that he'd been able to had almost surprised him more than the need for them. At first he'd thought that he'd have to ask Michael or Raphael to get them from Heaven for him as he'd thought that it might be the only place where those would be available. It seemed, however, that there were quite a few ingredients out there that had been tended by virgins if one knew where to look. He pitied the poor virgins.  
  
The bowl went into the circle of salt and was in turn anointed with a few drops of his own blood. Dean watched the red liquid seep into the sand and shivered as he felt as a chill race up his spine. His father had always been wary of using any of their blood in a ritual as the man had feared the power of blood magic and he could well understand why. During his time as a hunter he'd seen his fair share of blood rituals gone wrong as well as innocents who'd been virtually enslaved when some witch or creature had used their blood in a spell without their consent and knowledge. During the past few years, however, it had become more and more common for Sam and himself, and indeed even Castiel, to use their blood in order to perform all kinds of things both magical and more mundane. This line of thought, inevitably, brought back memories of Sam and Ruby (indeed how could thoughts of bloodletting  _not_  do so?) and his mood soured.  
  
Dean tried to force the thoughts from his mind as they were the last thing that he wanted to think about right now. This whole ritual was about his love for his angel and about his desire to spend the rest of his life, and beyond, with Castiel. It was about tying them together forever at the soul and Grace level. He would not think about his brother at this time as Sam deserved no part in this. The only reason that the thought had even occurred to him was because although he had become far more relaxed about using his blood in rituals and to create sigils as of late, he was still fully aware of the fact that it was needed now in the way that his father had always feared its power; in order to create a permanent bond that would tie his meatsuit to Castiel's vessel for the rest of his mortal life.  
  
Next came the first blessing which was to be uttered as he lit first the incense and then the candles. It was a simple one, calling on the fire to purify and bless the air and remove any taint that may linger from previous deeds. Dean had practiced the words and they fell easily from his lips, sounding far more lyrical than anything he'd ever said before or than anything in English ever could, but then most things in Enochian did. The incense quickly filled the air accompanied by the scent of burning candles and, soon, hot wax. It was a soothing smell and one that made him think back to Pastor Jim and the other hunter's church. Although he had never been religious, there had been something special about that place which even he hadn't been able to deny, though he'd always thought it had more to do with Jim's faith and inherent goodness and his own sense of it as a type of home more than anything elusive and intangible.  
  
Now, however, Dean couldn't help but feel that there was something more involved, something powerful. He could fairly  _feel_  the power crackling in the air and he hadn't even really started the ritual yet. The next step was the one that he wasn't looking forward to, but he was determined to do this right. It was something that not everyone performing the ritual had to do, just those who were considered impure in the eyes of the bonding. The book hadn't come right out and said what was considered impure and Michael had kept quiet on the issue as well, but he knew that there was no way that could be considered anything else. Not with his past, sexual or otherwise. Therefore he'd have to prepare the libation and hope that it was strong enough in order to cleanse him sufficiently for the kalsika ritual and the bonding.  
  
In a pewter chalice that he'd gotten blessed by a bishop on a recent hunt with the use of his Catholic church ID, Dean mixed Holy water, Holy oil and a small vial of oil from Castiel's wings that he'd managed to collect just last night. Or had it been this morning already? He was a little hazy on that particular detail as it hadn't been really important at the time. Technically the wing oil in the libation was supposed to be his own, but given that he didn't have any he hoped that his lover's would suffice. He'd have asked Michael to collect some but somehow it didn't feel right to have his friend involved in this even if it would have been his on some level too if his archangel had collected it while in him.  
  
He said another quick blessing, this one calling on the water to purify and bless him and to remove the stains that he knew lingered from previous deeds. Dean then put the chalice down and grabbed his car keys. The libation had to sit for a few minutes which was the perfect time for him to get the kalsika from his baby. The air outside was a little too warm for what he was wearing, but that was okay as he wouldn't be out in it very long. He said some quick hellos as he saw some of the neighbors out and about (something he'd had to get used to again as it had been a really long time since he'd ever lived next to the same person long enough to actually get to know their name, let alone have to worry about them getting suspicious of, or annoyed with, him) as he made his way to the Impala.  
  
He got into the passenger seat, opened the glove compartment and carefully, reverently, extricated the shirt in which his kalsika was wrapped. Checking that none of it was showing (the last thing he wanted to do was burn out some poor kid's eyes!), Dean got out of his baby once more, locked her and then headed back inside where the scent of incense and warm wax engulfed him in their soothing embrace. He put the bundle down on the floor next to the silver bowl and then turned back to the libation. Worryingly, there was a pale fog-like smoke coming from it but the contents didn't seem to be doing anything so he steeled himself, said a third blessing and then downed the contents. He knew the taste of both Holy water and Castiel's wing oil, so he had to assume that the exotic spiciness was from the Holy oil though he'd never have expected it to taste like this. There were hints of cinnamon and cloves along with things he didn't recognize but didn't mind either. Far from being disgusting, the libation went down smooth and lingered pleasantly on his palate. It did seem to coat his mouth and oesophagus in a way he wasn't used to but after a few swallows that was gone too.  
  
Dean stood there, waiting for something to happen and when a few minutes passed without a hint of anything more than a pleasant warmth that started in his belly and spread through the rest of him, he began to wonder if he'd done something wrong. He'd followed all of the steps given in the book, but it wouldn't be the first time where something wasn't mentioned in a book because the author thought it was obvious and didn't need to be said again. But he'd gotten all of the ingredients in and had the chalice properly blessed, so he wasn't sure what more could be done. Or was it that he was just too tainted to purify with the libation? He  _had_  been to Hell after all and he doubted that the ritual had ever been either intended for or performed on someone who'd been sent to Perdition. He couldn't think of what else he could do, though, and stopping the ritual now wasn't even an option. He wanted this far too much to stop it now, he'd just have to hope that it would still work. His lover definitely didn't consider him unworthy of being with him, so he had to believe that there was a chance that it would still work.  
  
The power crackling in the air had increased and Dean could practically  _feel_  his kalsika as he had in the Garden of Eden and he wondered at how his lover hadn't sensed its presence in the Impala. Briefly he closed his eyes and just let himself enjoy the sensations reaching his senses, feeling the tension drain from his body. This entire ritual was based around purification and the sanctity of the bonding and he could feel that now. When he was completely relaxed, he opened his eyes and stepped into the salt circle and sat down before the silver bowl. The incantation this time was far longer and more complex than the earlier blessings, but the words came to mind and flowed from his mouth easily, the Enochian adding another layer of mysticism and power to the ritual and he felt himself slip into a trance-like state.  
  
The room faded from his awareness until Dean was only conscious of the elements of the ritual arrayed around him; candles, incense, the protective circle, the bowl and, most importantly, the kalsika that shone so brightly that he could almost see it despite the fact that it was hidden from view of his mortal eyes. When he reached the midpoint of the incantation, the part where he invoked God himself, he leaned forwards and lit a match which he then dropped into the silver bowl. The Holy oil caught fire at once and soon the scent of roses joined the incense and wax, making the air thick with power.  
  
When the last of the Enochian rolled off his tongue, Dean felt strange, almost as if he wasn't in his meatsuit at all anymore but rather existed solely as a soul, like it had been in Heaven. He was faintly aware of the light that now suddenly bathed the room, overpowering the flickering flames of the candles and bowl, but it didn't register as particularly important next to the  _pulsing_  call of the kalsika beside him. Reverently he reached out and lifted the precious bundle into his lap before unfolding it. As he'd hoped, whatever was allowing him to see the wings of angels let him see the brilliance of the kalsika as it had been in the Garden of Eden. Power now hung thick in the air, sizzling along his skin like electricity and momentarily he just stared at the kalsika, entranced by its beauty and brilliance.  
  
The draw of his kalsika quickly became too much and Dean reached out wrapping both hands around it so that he was cradling it in his palms. Power like Grace rippled through him, washing over him in waves and wrapping around his very soul. He'd had a slight fear of it being too much to handle and that it would destroy him as it had Eve, but instead it seemed to bathe him in its power even as it coiled around him much as Michael's Grace did when the archangel claimed him as his vessel. It was seeping into him and he allowed it, closing his eyes once more though he found that doing so did nothing to block out the brilliance of his kalsika. Thoughts of Castiel came easily and he forced himself to focus so he could properly initiate the kalsika as he was supposed to.  
  
Luckily his experience with Michael had taught Dean how to select specific memories and feelings and to share them. He did so now, concentrating on everything that his lover was and meant to him. He thought back to their first meeting in that barn, about how even then he'd been awed and intrigued by the angel even as he feared and distrusted him. Various moments from the next few years and their growing friendship came next showing their evolving relationship. He was careful to show how special that had been for him, to have someone whom he could trust and knew to care about him despite the fact that they were neither family nor decade old acquaintances. Briefly he allowed the memory of what had happened in that alley, when he'd tried to give himself to Michael, to surface showing how despite what had happened he'd never truly feared his lover and how much Castiel's actions back then now meant to him as he got what it had been that had driven his angel to such extreme means.  
  
The feel of the power around him shifted as Dean slowed his thoughts, lingering on their first kiss and all of the slow explorations of their growing relationship that had followed. Their first time evoked all of the love and tenderness he'd felt at the time and the light of his kalsika grew, the power in the room almost a live thing now, sliding across his meatsuit and wrapping around him like a lover, pulsing and bright. His first time bottoming for Castiel came next, the implicit trust and love from them shining through. The memories had taken on a surreal tinge, almost like he was reliving them but sitting in his apartment at the same time though it didn't seem so strange to him, sitting there.  
  
More memories came, their Christmas and his birthday receiving special attention as their deepening relationship made those occasions unique in his mind. One of the most important memories, though, was of their first time together when he could see his lover's wings. It had made him feel closer to Castiel than ever before as he'd finally been able to see and touch a part of his lover's true form instead of the vessel that his angel inhabited while on Earth. The time during which Castiel had been missing and then injured by Meg with the Holy fire briefly made an unprompted appearance and it confused him until he realized that it was the kalsika that had drawn them forth. At first he was confused, but then he realized how critically important those events had been in his decision to do the bonding; the mere thought of losing his lover...  
  
It was too horrible to contemplate so he chose instead to dwell on his feelings for Castiel. Dean had never been so honest in his life as he was now, not even with himself. Not even when making this decision. Everything seemed to just rise to the surface now and he knew that it had to be the kalsika but for once he wasn't annoyed or fearful that a supernatural artefact had this kind of effect on him. He'd read the book on angelic bonding, he knew how important the exchange of emotions through a kalsika was and if he was going to do this, then he'd do it right. Besides, he knew that he was absolutely crap at expressing himself verbally and for once in his life he had someone who he wanted aware of exactly how he felt, so this was the perfect way of doing so.  
  
Dean poured himself into the kalsika, amazed at the breadth and depth of his own feelings for Castiel. It was frightening on some level but he didn't fear that. What he did fear, with an increasing frequency the further into this ritual that he got, was that his lover wouldn't accept this. Wouldn't accept  _him_ , not as a bond mate. He tried to squash it, knowing how much Castiel loved and cared for him. It had taken him a long time, but he'd come to accept that he was truly wanted. However he still knew there was a world of difference between being involved with someone and wanting to marry them, especially when it came in the form of a bonding which was far more eternal than a human marriage could ever hope to be.  
  
The kalsika warmed in Dean's hands and he opened his eyes to watch its brilliance shift and change. Swirls of color entered its light, mostly darker blues, greens and purples with some red, but they all still managed to shine, taking on a metallic glint. His breath caught in his throat as he watched it, feeling the power within him slowly recede until it was gone. If his kalsika had been like the sun before, then now it was the moon, full and soft with reflected light that was somehow more powerful and meaningful than the direct beams of the noon sun. The final blessing was already falling from his lips before he fully realized it, the power in the room still electrifying the air. As he finished the blessing, a wave of power and emotion rippled outwards from the kalsika and his breath caught in his throat as it seemed to embrace him before moving on.  
  
Then there was the flutter of wings and Dean looked up to see Castiel standing across the room, a look of shock on his lover's face.


	118. Chapter 117

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Becky explains Destiel and more to Sam, Bobby and Samuel.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
"Destiel Forever?" Sam repeated, frowning as he tried to figure it out.  
  
"Yep, my new OTP and the only true one out there I realize now."  
  
"De-stiel."  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, Sam saw Bobby start in surprise as his eyes went wide in disbelief. "What? What is it, Bobby?"  
  
"You know about that?" Bobby demanded, looking at Becky.  
  
"Of course I know about it," Becky sniffed. "Like I said, I used to date Chuck and we're still best friends even if the dating thing didn't pan out. He wouldn't dare hide something like that from me, even before it made it into the books."  
  
"That's in the books already?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Just how far are the books up to?"  
  
"The last published one ended in Stull Cemetery with Dean and Michael getting stabbed through the chest by Simiel."  
  
"Dean got stabbed through the chest?" Samuel demanded in astonishment.  
  
"Yes, didn't you know? It was during the Rite of Contressa, Simiel was trying to stop them from performing it."  
  
"Simiel?" Sam repeated faintly.  
  
"Oh for the love of! Don't you know  _anything_  about what's happened this past year?"  
  
"No, Dean hasn't told us much."  
  
"Gee, I wonder why?"  
  
"I thought you knew what was going on? Shouldn't you know this stuff?"  
  
"I don't know everything about every vision that Chuck has, he'd have no time to write if he told me everything as he saw it. He's been having the visions hard and fast lately as there's just so much going on at the moment."  
  
"Okay, why don't we start at the beginning?" Samuel suggested. "What is this Destia thing?"  
  
"Destiel," Becky corrected, looking cross. "It comes from Dean and Castiel, put the two names together and viola, Destiel."  
  
Dean and Castiel? Destiel? Destiel Forever?  
  
Sam felt vaguely sick as he stared at Becky in shock and dismay. Had she really just moved from one impossible slash pairing to the next? Had she really not learned anything? So instead of incest she was now into blasphemy and sacrilege? At least this time Dean would get a kick out of it even if his brother would be horrified to find that he was once again being paired with a guy by fans. What was it with them and making the two of them gay? He'd flipped through enough of the travesties that Chuck and the publishers called books to know that it showed quite plainly that they were straight and not only dated girls, but very much enjoyed doing so. At least this time he wasn't the focus of Becky's perverse fantasies, though he couldn't help but wonder how Castiel would take this. Somehow he doubted that the angel would still be as much of a fan of Chuck's books once he found out that they'd spawned trash like this.  
  
"Dean and... Castiel? The angel?" Samuel questioned, voice faint.  
  
"Yes, oh my God, they're so amazing together, at times cute and sweet or sexy and hot as hell! Besides, I always knew that Dean was a romantic at heart, what with all of his supposed dislike of chick flick moments and all. Turns out he just needed the right person to bring it all out. Oh!"  
  
There was the taste of vomit in Sam's mouth as Becky sighed and got a love-struck gleam in her eyes. A romantic at heart? The anti-chick flick thing an indicator thereof? Dean was so going to kill her, human or not. Becky was a dead woman walking, she just didn't know it yet. How on Earth could she claim to now be such a big fan of his brother and yet totally not know Dean at all? He was starting to understand how Becky had gotten everything about him so wrong if she saw Dean's behavior in this way.  
  
A quick glance at the others showed Sam that his grandfather was looking as green as he felt while Bobby had the strangest expression on his face and he wasn't quite sure what to make of it. No doubt the older hunter didn't want to hear all about one girl's X-rated fantasies about his favorite adoptive son any more than he himself did about his brother. He'd have to get the IP address for this Destiel Forever site just so that he could block it from his computer to ensure that he never accidentally went to it. If Chuck's books really were being published once more and the amount of fanfic about them increased as a result, then it was always possible that future searches for information for hunts would start bringing back fan fiction sites due to their use of the supernatural.  
  
Oh God, what if there were fics out there pairing one of them with some monster?  
  
"Wait a minute," Samuel suddenly stated, turning to Bobby. "It's real?"  
  
"Real? What's real?" Sam demanded, seeing the sudden panicky expression on Bobby's face.  
  
"Nothing, nothing," Bobby denied hastily.  
  
"No, when she mentioned Destiel, you asked her whether she knew about it as if it were true," Samuel pressed.  
  
The words froze Sam in place as he realized that his grandfather was right. Bobby  _had_  reacted to Becky's statement as if it were true and, what was more, the older man had figured out what Destiel meant on his own, without needing it explained to him. But no, that couldn't be, could it? No, Dean was  _not_  gay, not only did his brother flirt with a ton of women, but he'd walked in on Dean in the act often enough to know that his brother really did sleep with them as well. Not to mention the number of women he'd seen afterwards who'd always been extremely happy and satisfied. If he were honest with himself, he'd always been a bit jealous of his brother's easy ability to charm and satisfy women. The fact that it had exasperated their father at times had only added to his admiration.  
  
So, no, just no. It  _wasn't_  possible.  
  
Bobby sighed. "Yeah, okay, Dean told me about it that time he came by my motel room."  
  
" _What?_ " Sam exclaimed.  
  
"So he hadn't told you he was bisexual either, huh?"  
  
"Bisexual?"  
  
"Okay, that makes me feel better, knowing that it wasn't just me that he was hiding it from."  
  
"Wait, you'd expected him to share that with you?" Samuel demanded. "Christ but things have really changed."  
  
"Dean  _isn't_  gay!" Sam stated forcefully.  
  
"Being bi isn't the same as being gay," Becky replied. "He just likes both men and women, although apparently not so much anymore."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Chuck said that in one of his older visions Dean hadn't even noticed that some girl was hitting on him."  
  
"Dean  _didn't notice_?"  
  
"No, like I said, he's a softie, a real romantic at heart. When he's with someone, he gives himself to his partner completely," Becky said, the stars back in her eyes before her whole face turned dark as she glared at him. "Unlike some people, Dean knows the meaning of true love."  
  
"True love?" Sam scoffed. "Dean doesn't do love, sex, sure, but love? Not a chance. If he's really with Cas at the moment then I promise you, it's completely sexual." The very thought made him ill and he had to force it down or he'd be sick. "It's probably nothing more than a reaction to his perceived abandonment."  
  
"Completely sexual? Reaction? Perceived abandonment?" Becky looked absolutely livid at the moment and Sam took an uneasy step back as she got to her feet and stormed over to him, starting the poking once more. "Sam Winchester, how  _dare_  you?  _How dare you_  say that about your brother? After everything that Dean has done for you, how can you be so dismissive and cruel to him? Chuck had mentioned some of what he'd seen about you and I read what was in the recent novels, but I thought that he'd seen things wrong or portrayed it as worse than it actually was, but now I see that it wasn't that at all."  
  
"Becky, Dean doesn't do love, he-"  
  
"He gave Cas the key to the Impala for Christmas."  
  
The words shocked Sam speechless. Dean had given Castiel the key to his baby? The angel didn't need a key to get into the car, so it was obvious why his brother had given it and that was huge. It was- Hey, wait a goddamn minute! Dean only had two copies of the Impala's key, which meant that his brother had given Castiel  _his_  key! That was his, dammit! He'd even had it while at Stanford and he'd only given it back to Dean because there had been a good chance that he'd not survive the whole Lucifer thing.  
  
"I take it that's big?" Samuel inquired.  
  
"That's huge," Becky stated. "The Impala is Dean's baby, he loves that car and it has been with the family since before Dean was born, though he did help John chose it when he went back in time, you know when he met you? It's basically the only home that he has ever had since Mary died. Well, it was until Dean and Cas got that apartment together."  
  
"Apartment?" Bobby questioned with raised eyebrows.  
  
"Yeah, Chuck mentioned that they now have a place together. Something about Cas being seriously injured and Dean finding them somewhere to stay during his recovery. I don't know all of the details as Chuck hasn't finished that book yet, but he should soon and I can't wait to read it. I need to know what happened to my poor baby, Cas doesn't deserve to be seriously injured, not after all that he's already done for Dean. Besides, if he's injured then they can't have steaming hot sex!"  
  
"Becky!" Sam exclaimed, horrified.  
  
"It's true and boy, does your brother know what he's doing, it's better than fanfic!"  
  
"Chuck writes it?" Bobby questioned, horrified.  
  
"I make him write it, no way is he seeing that and then not letting me know all about it. I mean, Cas has wings and produces wing oil and-"  
  
"No,  _no_  details! Absolutely no details!" Sam ordered. "I  _do not_  need to know about my brother's sex life, especially not when it's gay sex with a supernatural creature!"  
  
"Like you can talk. At least Cas is an angel, Ruby was a demon."  
  
"That was different!"  
  
"Yes, this is about love, yours was about perversion and addiction!"  
  
"Wings and wing oil?" Samuel asked, horrified.  
  
"He's an angel, of course he has wings and wing oil."  
  
"I've never seen them."  
  
"Well, duh, you're not special."  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"Only special people are able to see an angel's wings."  
  
"Yes, but Dean isn't one of them," Sam stated. "Cas tried to speak with him at the beginning and nearly blew out Dean's eardrums."  
  
"I know, but that changed after the first time Mike took Dean."  
  
"Michael's had sex with Dean as well?" Samuel demanded, looking ready to faint.  
  
"No, she didn't mean it like that," Bobby replied, deathly pale all of a sudden and Sam felt his own blood rush from his face as he realized what the older hunter meant. "You meant that Dean said yes, didn't you, Becky? He let Michael in to use him as a vessel."  
  
"You didn't know?" Becky questioned, surprised.  
  
"How would we know?"  
  
"Dean didn't tell you?"  
  
"What about Dean isn't telling us much did you not understand?" Sam demanded.  
  
"No need to be snippy," Becky responded. "It just happened such a long time ago that I figured it was something they would have mentioned or that you'd have figured it out from how human Mike is now."  
  
Dean had said yes to Michael already? Things were far worse than Sam had feared. He'd hoped that they had more time and that they'd be able to prevent his brother from doing anything stupid but they were obviously far too late for that already. He watched Bobby sink weakly into the new couch that stood near the desk and he could only hope that the other man would finally start to see what was truly going on instead of what Dean had been trying to tell them was true. Despite his fears this still came as quite a shock to even him though it did explain a lot about what had been going on. His brother's compliance with the angels and their plan, the sheer stupidity of Dean's actions, the way that his brother had hidden the truth about the Apocalypse from them and everything else.  
  
If Michael had already taken Dean as his vessel then all of that was easily explained. It was quite simple and Sam didn't get why he hadn't seen it before. Of course Dean had said yes to the archangel, his brother had been fragile since his return from Hell and the cracks had only gotten bigger since then. Given that his brother had already been ready to crack wide open once more just shortly before he himself had managed to stuff both Lucifer and Michael into the cage, he really should have known that Dean wouldn't be able to put up more than a token resistance without himself or Bobby there to prevent him from breaking once more.  
  
"How long is a long time ago?" Bobby finally asked, still quite pale.  
  
"Somewhere between Christmas and Dean's birthday."  
  
"Uh, when is Dean's birthday?" Samuel inquired.  
  
"The twenty-fourth of January," Sam replied absently. "He said yes back then? No wonder he's been falling in line with the angels' plans!"  
  
"No, he's not! He's converted both Mike and Raphael to his point of view!" Becky shouted. "They're all working to prevent the Apocalypse from happening!"  
  
"Then why did Dean say yes?" Bobby asked, an edge of desperation and begging to it. "Why would he do that if they're trying to prevent it?"  
  
"Because only Dean and Mike together could perform the Rite of Contressa, it wouldn't have worked if Mike wasn't in Dean, it was a condition of the ritual."  
  
"The Rite of Contressa? Is that the ritual that Dean mentioned before? The one I'd never heard of?" Samuel asked.  
  
"Neither had most of the angels, it was something only a few archangels had ever heard of before. It's a ritual that prevents an angel from taking a vessel, so you see, Dean said yes in order to help protect you from Lucifer, Sam. Despite all that you have done to him, your brother is still protecting you."  
  
The revelation left Sam speechless and he couldn't even think of what he felt at the moment. Dean had said yes in order to ensure that Lucifer couldn't take him? The mere thought of having the devil back inside of him was almost too horrible to contemplate and he shuddered at the memories that immediately rose to the top of his mind from before. It was also such a Dean thing to do that he couldn't help the wave of nostalgia that washed over him as he thought of how it had used to be back when it was just him and Dean. Sure there had been a lot of other stuff going on, but there had always been the good times when they'd been able to relax and just enjoy each other's company and he missed that just now. He hadn't thought about it for ages, especially not when he'd had Christian, but right now he wanted those times back. He wanted  _Dean_  back, as his brother had been before this whole Apocalypse fiasco had started and changed Dean forever.  
  
"That stupid idjit, of course he said yes to save Sam," Bobby muttered, shaking his head before he looked up at Becky with a dawning hope. "But it didn't consume him, Dean is still himself."  
  
"Yes," Becky confirmed softly. "Mike loves Dean, he would never do anything to harm him. Besides, you know Dean, since when has he ever done things the normal way?"  
  
"Never."  
  
"Exactly, so why would you even think that he'd be a normal vessel? Because he's most definitely not, not even close."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Vessels are normally shoved down, into the back of their own minds and are unaware while the angel is inside of them. The only exceptions of this are with Michael or Lucifer, who can choose to wake their vessels up, like Lucifer did with Sam."  
  
The words brought back the memories even more than before and Sam flinched. Remembering just how helpless he'd been for most of that time brought back the despair and horror and it was nearly enough to overwhelm him. It was, without a doubt, the worst experience of his life, even more so than those weeks in that cage in Hell with Michael and Lucifer. Not only had he been unable to do anything but watch as Lucifer did whatever the hell he wanted, but he'd been able to  _feel_  what the devil felt and all of that malevolence, hatred and superiority had stuck to him like some viscous fluid no matter what he'd done to try and free himself from it all. He had  _not_ wanted to feel all of that but he hadn't been given a choice. Of all of it, the dark delight and pleasure that Lucifer had experienced when killing and beating up Dean had been the worst.  
  
"But that didn't happen with Dean, at least not for long," Becky continued. "The first time Dean was shoved down, but then he regained consciousness on his own, without Mike waking him, and he's been both awake and aware ever since whenever Mike takes him."  
  
Bobby laughed at those words but Sam couldn't help but notice the edge of despair to it and he knew exactly how the man felt. Dean had been awake for every single moment that he'd been a vessel? He shuddered again at the mere thought. He hadn't been aware for most of the time that Lucifer had been inside of him and still it had been far too much. Except for the very end where he'd somehow managed to wrest control away from the devil just long enough to grab Michael and jump into the cage, he desperately wished that he'd been unconscious for it all. To think that his brother had been awake for each excruciating moment and knowing that Dean had done it for him, it was nearly unbearable.  
  
"The first time?" Samuel repeated. "Exactly how many times has Michael taken Dean as his vessel?"  
  
"Including the first time, eh, let me think, that would be four times now, I think," Becky said. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure it's been four times."  
  
"Four times," Sam repeated numbly.  
  
"Jesus," Bobby muttered.  
  
"No, no, it's not a bad thing," Becky rushed to add. "Dean kinda likes it and even misses it when he's not with Michael."  
  
"What?"  
  
"It sounds like it's amazing. I mean to have an angel's Grace cradling your very soul and bathing it with friendship and affection, I'd do anything to get to experience that."  
  
"That's not at all what it's like!" Sam protested.  
  
"For you perhaps, but for Dean it is. You should read the scene in question, it's beautiful and that was back before they became such good friends. I was allowed to have a look at the draft of the later time and it's gorgeous. I just wish that Cas was able to have Dean that way, I can only imagine what sexual tension would do to that dynamic. It would probably be some kind of Gracegasm."  
  
This time Sam's stomach heaved, the very idea of any kind of sexualization of what he'd experienced sickening him. "Becky!"  
  
"Well it would be. Luckily Dean hasn't let that lack get in the way of their relationship."  
  
"Uh, you mentioned something earlier about Dean and Michael being stabbed in the chest during the Rite of Contressa?" Samuel prompted.  
  
"Oh, yes, while performing it over Lucifer's crumbling cage Dean and Mike got stabbed by Simiel. She wanted to prevent them from completing it."  
  
"So Simiel is a demon?"  
  
"No, she's an archangel, one who chose Lucifer's side and thus was punished with him," Becky explained. "She's been quite a nuisance and has injured not only Dean and Mike together, but Raphael and Dean alone as well while they were in South Africa."  
  
An archangel with Lucifer? South Africa? Why did Sam feel like the more they spoke with Becky the more questions they had instead of answers?


	119. Chapter 118

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel arrives.

**PAST**  
  
  
Castiel had been taking care of some routine business in Heaven, stuff that needed to be done but which didn't require a whole lot of attention as he'd done them countless times before since he'd taken over as Sheriff of Heaven, when it happened. He'd been nearing the end of his chores and had just started thinking about visiting Virgil and seeing how things were going with the preparations in the armory that he'd requested when, seemingly out of nowhere, a wave of emotions and power washed over him. It was so unexpected and powerful that he nearly staggered under the weight of it, but it wasn't at all invasive as he would have assumed that something like that would be. Instead it felt wonderful, wrapping around his Grace and caressing it like a lover would.  
  
Although Castiel had never felt anything like it before he instantly knew  _who_  was involved as the emotion and power all felt like one person.  
  
Dean.  
  
If the whole thing hadn't felt so unbelievably wonderful, Castiel would have panicked, the mere thought of something happening to his mate that could generate this kind of power terrifying him, but for some reason it didn't.  _That_  was almost just as frightening and he immediately flew off towards his hunter, letting his awareness of Dean direct his hasty flight. The moment that he landed, more power washed over him, bathing his Grace in a sense of peace like that which he'd only ever felt in Heaven before, centuries before this Apocalypse had begun, back when Father had still been around and Lucifer had not yet rebelled. He felt himself instantly relaxing, though he fought it off as he didn't know what was going on or why.  
  
Then Castiel caught sight of the candles and his mate kneeling on the floor inside a purity circle, an altar of Ru'ena before him and holding a kalsika.  
  
An initiated kalsika.  
  
The shock stunned Castiel speechless for a moment and he could only stare at Dean in shock. Now that he knew what was going on he recognized the signs for what they were from what his bonded brothers and sisters had told him over the millennia, but it still overwhelmed him. To know that his mate had voluntarily done all of that, it was unbelievable, but the softly shimmering kalsika before Dean proved that it was all real. Even before he'd made a conscious decision to do so, he'd lowered his defenses and allowed the power to reach his Grace unimpeded and it felt better than anything that he'd ever experienced before since his creation. It was the power of the kalsika and the ritual, but it was all layered with the emotions of his mate and he felt drawn to it just like he'd always been inexplicably drawn to Dean's soul from the moment that he'd first caught sight of it down in the depths of Hell.  
  
"Dean," Castiel finally managed to say, his voice as reverential a whisper as he'd ever uttered to his Father before in prayer.  
  
He had not been expecting this.  
  
Castiel had always wanted it, the type of connection that this kind of bond implied, but he'd never dared hope that he would one day have it with Dean. Or at least he had never let himself to wish for it until just recently. Last night, in fact, had been the first time that he'd allowed himself to seriously contemplate it, before that it had always been more of an occasional thought that he'd quickly dismissed for fear that he'd start to focus on it too much and the last thing that he'd wanted to do was to make it obvious to his mate that there was something else, something  _more_ , that he wanted. He'd always only ever desired to give Dean exactly what his hunter wanted and to not pressure him for more as he knew that all of Dean's life people had been demanding more from his mate than Dean could give and he  _was not_  going to become one of those people.  
  
Now that it was here, however, Castiel felt the need and desire for it flood through him and it was all that he could do not to just react instinctively to it without ensuring that his mate actually knew what he was doing.  
  
"Cas," Dean replied, voice low and vulnerable in a way Castiel had never heard before.  
  
The power crackled in the air as Castiel met his mate's eyes. There was more emotion in those green eyes than he'd ever seen before and he felt his vessel's heart skip a beat at what he saw. There was love, anticipation, fear, hope, desire, reverence and much, much more. He'd taken several steps forwards and was at the edge of the purity circle before he knew it. His wings shifted impatiently, fluttering with his own desire to just  _take, grab_ what was being offered, but he couldn't do that to his mate and he knew he'd never forgive himself if he discovered later that Dean hadn't fully realized exactly what it was that he was offering here.  
  
"Dean," Castiel said again and immediately felt a pang of regret as his mate's gaze shuttered, though he caught the flicker of fear and resignation in it before that happened. "No! Dean, no, that's not what I meant! I just- do you know what this is, what this means?"  
  
The hope that appeared in his mate's eyes and rippled across the power electrifying the air warmed Castiel as he knew how much of an improvement that was over the way Dean would have once reacted, so sure that it couldn't possibly mean what his mate wanted it to.  
  
"Yeah, Mike gave me the book when I first asked about it," Dean replied, gesturing towards the table.  
  
Castiel looked over to see the most definitive book on bonding laying there and his own hope flared. "You read it all?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
The last of Castiel's willpower crumpled and he was across the purity circle instantly, his passing igniting the power in the air so the distinctive electric blue flames of the kalsika ritual sprang up all along the circle. Dean's eyes widened as he watched the dancing fire, but Castiel was far too consumed by the desire to  _take, claim, mate, bond_  to pay it any heed beyond noticing his mate's reaction to the occurrence. He gracefully sank into a seat position, crossing his legs as he did so, before the altar of Ru'ena so he was facing the initiated kalsika and his hunter. Dean's hope and longing flared brighter and morphed into relief and such an all-encompassing joy that it was all that he could do to remain seated and not just rise and take his mate right then and there. His wings, however, had no such restriction and they arched around him and reached out for Dean, the tips of them caressing his hunter.  
  
"Cas," Dean murmured, eyes sliding shut as his mate just enjoyed the simple touch.  
  
Castiel allowed himself a moment to simply bask in the emotions rolling off of his mate and spinning deliriously in the air around them before his eyes were drawn towards the softly glowing kalsika between them. The normally radiant light he'd always seen on the kalsikas in the Garden of Eden had been replaced with a much softer light shot through with beautifully sparkling colors that swirled and tempted him to just reach out and experience everything that he meant to Dean. With a final glance up at his mate, he reached forward and did exactly that, being careful not to touch his mate's hands as he did so.  
  
Nothing that Castiel had been told about the ritual could ever have prepared him for what happened next. The moment that his hands touched the kalsika, he was instantly swept up in a wave of emotions as the power of the kalsika reached out and connected with his Grace. At first it all roared through him, wave after wave of overwhelming feelings and thoughts, but then the flow slowed and individual emotions and impressions swirled into focus, accompanied by particular memories that Dean had chosen to share with him. He knew almost all of them, of course, but this time he experienced them as his mate had, along with everything that Dean felt for him.  
  
Of course Castiel had known some of this already and the fact that his mate loved him had never been in doubt, but there was a  _long_  way between knowing it and feeling it so directly. The love and trust spread through him, wrapping around his very Grace as if it recognized him as the intended recipient of those emotions and couldn't bear to be parted from him a moment longer. He pulled it deep into himself, unable to even think about not having it now that he did. The memories and emotions continued to come to him, the breadth and depth of Dean's love and trust amazing him after all that his mate had gone through in his life. That his hunter could still let anyone that close after his own family had so completely betrayed him was nothing short of miraculous and he'd cherish that love and trust forever, even if the amount of power he knew it gave him over his mate terrified him a little. It would be so easy to break Dean forever and a part of him was always afraid that he'd say or do the wrong thing and his hunter would shatter despite all of the strength he knew that his mate possessed.  
  
Castiel knew that this fear was justified by the undercurrent of emotional fragility that underlay everything else he felt from the kalsika. Even as Dean was bearing his very soul to him, his mate had also been plagued by the thought that he might not want this, that he might reject an actual bonding despite his feeling for his mate. It would have angered him if he didn't know his hunter so well. The fact that Dean could still doubt him after all that they had gone through was a product of his upbringing and his past and had become so much a part of Dean that he feared it might never completely go away, but he was determined to try. That his mate had gone ahead with the ritual gave him hope as it meant that his mate had finally healed enough to start acting on his own desires.  
  
Then Castiel got to the memories of what Dean had gone through when he'd been captured and tortured by Meg and his hands tightened on the kalsika. The sheer terror and desperation that washed over him now caused his Grace to churn within him in dismay and helplessness, only the feel of his mate turning his face into his feathers and bring up a hand to grasp a wing kept him grounded enough to just stay where he was and passively experience it all. The only thing that soothed him a little was the determination and realization Dean took away from it but he'd still rather have spared his mate the whole thing. The thoughts of the bonding and the kalsika came next and he felt how vulnerable it had made his hunter to expose himself like this, but throughout it all there was never even a hint of regret despite the fear that his mate had been unable to suppress.  
  
Dean wanted this bonding with all that he was and his mate was willing to risk all that on the chance that Castiel would want this too and it touched Castiel deeply, especially because he understood exactly what it cost Dean to do this.  
  
When the power of the kalsika within him changed, Castiel didn't even hesitate and instead began pouring all that his mate was and meant to him into the kalsika. His first memory reached back much further than Dean's, right back to the moment he'd first laid eyes on his hunter in the depths of Hell. Dean might have been covered in blood and taint but still his purity had shone through despite all of Alastair's best efforts to ruin and demonize the Righteous Man. From that very first instant, he had been inexplicably drawn to Dean had already loved him in a way, and that love had only grown since until now it was far greater than even he could comprehend, but he did know that he couldn't live without his mate anymore, nor would he want to or had he ever regretted that it had become so vital for him. He wouldn't want it any other way.  
  
Castiel made sure to share that sentiment with the kalsika, knowing his mate would misconstrue it otherwise. He then meticulously made his way through their evolving relationship as he had seen it, taking care to show how much Dean had come to mean to him and why it was that he had originally turned against his family and come to understand exactly what was going on. He wasn't sure if he'd ever told his hunter about how he had only gotten through that period of familial betrayal because of Dean and the sincerity and purity of his human's conviction in that what he was doing was right. It had given him the anchor he so desperately needed in those tumultuous times to ground himself and allow him to come to terms with what had happened, who he really was and what it was that he needed.  
  
He shared some of the nights that he'd spent in whatever motel room the Winchester brothers were using, just standing at the foot of his mate's bed, watching his hunter sleep and contemplating everything. Dean had once called it creepy, but he knew his mate no longer thought so, therefore he hoped that this would not be viewed that way despite the fact that they had not been together yet at the time. It had been the only time that he'd found any peace back then, though, something about the way Dean looked so content and peaceful in sleep soothing him and letting him consider things rationally.  
  
It had not been Castiel's intention to include those horrible, agonizing minutes after Dean had banished him in a bid to go find Michael in order to say yes to him in his thoughts, but they came anyway, the kalsika drawing them forth. He didn't resist as he knew the power of the ritual though he felt terrible as he experienced what followed once more. It still amazed him that Dean could stand his touch so easily without flinching or displaying any fear whatsoever of him using his superior strength against his mate as he had done that day. None of the next few memories were pleasant when the confrontation with Lucifer, their separation and what he'd found upon his return followed swiftly, though he did take special care to ensure that his desire to keep his hunter safe in all of those cases was made clear.  
  
Then, finally, came the memories of when Castiel's feelings had morphed from friendship into love, even if he hadn't realized it yet at the time. He took special care to linger on the events of that night where they'd shared their first kiss and he'd come to understand exactly what it was that Dean meant to him. A lot of the following memories were ones that Dean had shared with him and he could only hope that his love and affection shone as strongly as his mate's for him had. He opened himself to the kalsika more and let his Grace reach out to it, pouring his love, hopes and desire into it, wanting Dean to be in absolutely no doubt of what it was that he meant to him. His mate's past made it difficult for Dean to fully grasp what it was that he meant to others and this was the perfect opportunity for him to  _show_  his mate irrevocably how much and how deeply he was cherished.  
  
There were more memories of nights with Dean, only now spent  _in_  his mate's bed, wrapped around his precious hunter closer than he'd ever dared hope that they would be. Castiel too lingered on Christmas and Dean's birthday, those days standing out as being untainted by the Apocalypse and any outside influence. He knew that there was much more of a possessive edge to the feelings he was sharing than there had been in Dean's, but he hoped that his mate understood that it was due to the fact that his hunter was Michael's vessel and how hard it was to share Dean with his brother even if he knew that Michael loved and cared for his mate in a completely different way.  
  
Castiel took the time to share some of the simple times as well when they had simply lain together and Dean had groomed his wings and that had been enough for the both of them. There was that and so much more, so many little things that meant everything to him and which he wished always be able to experience and how it had all come together into his own desire to bond though he had denied it in order to not pressure his mate as he had never desired to force Dean to feel the need to give more than he wanted to, but how it had burned brightly within him nonetheless. Finally he shared what he'd thought and felt upon arriving back here today so that Dean understood his initial hesitation had been caused solely by the need to be sure that his mate knew what this ritual meant and not anything more.  
  
The last things that Castiel poured into the kalsika were his love and the thought that even the bonding might not be enough to satisfy how closely he wanted to be linked with Dean and that even knowing his mate's soul would be tied to his Grace forever, it didn't seem long enough.


	120. Chapter 119

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His mate sounded raw and Castiel suddenly knew that he'd just broken Dean.

**PAST**  
  
  
Shock was the first and foremost emotion that Dean felt as the feelings and memories that Castiel had used to complete the initiation of their kalsika swept through him. As with him, their kalsika had clearly pulled out some memories that his lover wouldn't normally have shared, but even those overwhelmed him. He'd always known that he'd pissed Castiel off with his little attempt to go find and give himself to Michael but he'd never realized exactly how hurt his lover had been nor how terrified. It put things into a whole new perspective and he longed to ease the guilt that Castiel still felt about that day. It was totally unnecessary and he shuddered to think how things might have turned out of his angel hadn't stopped him. They would never have found each other and Earth would probably have been destroyed in the process as well.  
  
The other memories that washed over him were mostly better and Dean smiled at the number of times that Castiel had spent the night just watching him even before they'd become lovers. Thinking back on that and all of his angel's other quirks (or at least that was how he'd thought of them at the time), it had been almost inevitable that they'd end up together and he couldn't understand why he hadn't seen that from the start. He was soon distracted from that thought though and was stunned at the sheer  _depth_  of his lover's feelings for him and how strongly Castiel felt them even when doing something as simple as holding him while he slept at night.  
  
Dean had known that Castiel loved him, he really had, but this was so far beyond what he'd been expecting that it shocked him to his very core. It wasn't that he'd doubted his angel's feelings for him but rather that he hadn't even known that it was  _possible_  to love someone that much or that deeply and his mind seemed completely unable to process it all. His eyes slipped shut and his head fell forwards as the love continued to wash over him, the power of the kalsika allowing it to bathe his very soul with its warmth and comfort.  
  
The other thing that came to Dean was the possessiveness Castiel felt towards him and instead of it scaring him as he'd have thought it would, it seemed to almost heal something deep inside of him that he'd never dared acknowledge was hurt, even if himself. He'd  _always_  wanted to be needed and this possessiveness was an extreme version of that paired intimately with Castiel's desire to never let him go and that was something he craved on such a deep, visceral level that getting it overrode any and all objections he might have had on principle of anyone feeling like that about him.  
  
Dean hadn't even realized that his whole body was trembling slightly with the sheer intensity of it all until he felt his lover's hand on his face and when he opened his eyes it was to find them wet.  
  
"Cas," Dean finally managed to whisper after several failed attempts.  
  
He wanted to say more, to say how he felt about it all, but he just couldn't. All Dean could do was swallow thickly, the emotions rising up within him far too overpowering to express.  
  


* * *

  
  
His mate sounded raw and Castiel suddenly knew that he'd just  _broken_  Dean. Not at all like Alastair had in Hell, but broken nonetheless. It had been almost inevitable in a way, he suddenly realized and long overdue. Almost all of his life, his hunter had built his life and his happiness around others, around his family, but it had been a life where Dean had always needed to be strong and to look after others; his father, his brother and the innocents they protected. They had been his mate's responsibility in a way and both of the other Winchesters had depended heavily on Dean even if they hadn't realized it, relying on his hunter to take care of things and never giving Dean back a fraction of what he deserved and never what his mate had either wanted or needed.  
  
Topped off with betrayal after betrayal, from both John and Sam as well as Bobby, Castiel now knew that it had been inevitable that the sudden exposure to what he truly felt for his mate had been too much for Dean. But it was a good thing, he knew as his hunter had spent far too long feeling like he'd failed everyone as they kept seeking to leave him and not give him what it was that Dean so desperately sought and  _needed_. To finally get that and much, much more after so long, especially after his mate had long since given up all real hope of ever actually obtaining it, let alone thinking that he was worthy of it, was simply too much for Dean and his mate needed time to not only process it but to start to rebuild his very foundations around it.  
  
Castiel brought one of his inner wings up and around so that it touched the kalsika (as he too couldn't bear to be parted from it right now) and then he carefully gathered him mate up in his arms and flew them into the bedroom. He removed their clothing with a thought and then lowered Dean onto the center of the bed. The shifting of weight caused the stuffed bear his mate had given him to be dislodged from its place on a pillow and fall down the bed. He smiled as he picked it up and returned it to its place, thinking of the first time he had left it in their bed only to return later that night to find his hunter asleep with it clutched in his arms. He'd later learned that it smelled of him and that Dean kept unconsciously gravitating towards it in his absence. Today, however, that would not be necessary as he had absolutely no intention of leaving his mate any time soon.  
  
With one of his inner wings still touching their kalsika, Castiel used his Grace to close the room's curtains before joining Dean in bed, wrapping his wings around them when he'd placed one hand back on their kalsika. His mate instantly curled into him, trapping their kalsika between them, still trembling and burying his head into the crook of Castiel's neck. With their kalsika resting against his chest, its soft luminescent light filling the room, he wrapped one arm around Dean's waist and let the other brush his mark on his hunter's arm before reaching up to soothingly run his fingers through his mate's hair.  
  
When all of the tension had completely drained from Dean and he could feel his mate beginning to heal instead, Castiel felt himself relax and he opened himself completely to their bond and their kalsika. Dean's love and need for him washed over him once more and he basked in it, also finding it somewhat hard to believe that all of this was for him. He'd always known how completely his mate gave himself to the people that he loved and how strongly Dean loved despite the tough, macho persona that he tried to portray to the outside world, but this seemed too powerful even for all of that and once again he found himself amazed by his mate. Instead of questioning it, though, he simply accepted it and allowed his Grace to soak it up while he held his mate.  
  
He wasn't sure how long they lay there like that, both physically and emotionally wrapped up together in each other, but Castiel became a bit more aware when he felt a change within Dean. He couldn't quite say what it was, especially not with them as intertwined as they were at moment allowing him to feel and detect changes so small that even his mate probably wasn't normally aware of them, but it roused him from the near trance-like state he'd fallen into. He carefully checked the area but found everything to be okay before turning his attention back to his hunter. Dean was pressed as closely against him as it was possible for his mate to get and seemed to be somewhere halfway between asleep and awake, that strange realm Dean liked to linger in when waking up beside him. Today he didn't think that this was the case as he was sure that his mate hadn't actually fallen asleep, but rather it seemed that Dean was better able to deal with everything while like this, where his conscious and subconscious were both close to the surface.  
  
Castiel brushed a kiss to the top of his mate's head, letting his hands run over Dean's body, slowly bringing his hunter back to full consciousness. Dean stirred in his arms and wings, muttering something unintelligible. It made him smile, knowing he was the only one with whom his mate roused so slowly and languidly. Even with his father around, Dean had never done this as John'd had a habit of testing his sons' reaction times to ensure that they would always be ready to defend themselves and Dean, with his need to try and please his father at all times, had become such a light sleeper as to almost lose the ability to linger in Morpheus' arms even when he wanted to do so. It was an honor he cherished even as he teased his mate about it sometimes.  
  
"Don' wanna," Dean protested, trying to burrow deeper into his embrace.  
  
"Aren't you hungry?"  
  
"No."  
  
Dean's tone was petulant and his mate's grip on him tightened, clearly not wanting to let him go. "Shh," Castiel soothed. "I'm not going anywhere. Ever."  
  
His mate shifted against him slightly, just enough to be able to look down at their kalsika between them and Castiel moved his head slightly so he could do so as well. In addition to the colors it had already displayed from Dean, their kalsika was now shot through with gold and silver from himself and the colors swirled around lazily, easily mixing together much as they'd done with their lives and essences. They'd have to let their kalsika go eventually, he knew as it was only meant to be a means with which to share their emotions and memories with each other in order to prepare them for the intensity of the actual bonding ceremony itself, but he was loath to part with it so long as they didn't have the complete bond.  
  
He never wanted to be that separated from Dean again and he knew his mate had no desire for it either.  
  
"I know."  
  
Dean's reply was soft and Castiel had to think back a moment to remember what it was a response to as he'd gotten lost in his thoughts, but then his Grace swelled within him. There had been absolutely no doubt whatsoever in his mate's words even if there were still echoes of the shock that his hunter had experienced. To know that Dean now knew precisely how he felt about him and could no longer convince himself that it was anything else was the greatest gift Castiel could ever have desired to receive. Instead of trying to reply, he leaned down and nudged his mate slightly until Dean moved his head enough so he could kiss him. Their kalsika flared between them and he felt how vulnerable Dean still was, though his mate was already starting to recover, stronger than before.  
  
It would not be an easy process though and Castiel knew exactly how to help. Part of why this was as overwhelming as it was to his mate was because Dean had always been a physical being, constantly distancing himself as much as possible from the emotional. So to now have their connection blown wide open like this in a way that flooded his mate with all of his love and affection for Dean was like literally blasting his hunter with something for which he had little to no defenses. Luckily he knew exactly how to help his mate anchor it all down.  
  
Castiel slowly changed the intention of the kiss from one type of intensity to another. He knew the moment that Dean caught on as the way his mate clutched him changed from trying to keep him from leaving, to trying pull him closer. He happily complied, pulling his hunter even closer and making Dean moan as their kalsika flared even brighter still, casting dazzling colors in every direction. Dean had instantly started responding, rocking against him but while there was need there, it was not frantic as it so often was between them. Although now sexualized, the sheer emotional intensity of having their kalsika between them hadn't faded any and was still there, conveying exactly how he felt about his mate to Dean. The only difference was that now he was giving his hunter something more familiar to both comprehend and anchor it down with as he worshipped his mate both physically and emotionally.  
  
"Cas, Cas, Cas, Cas," Dean chanted when he pulled back enough to look at his mate.  
  
There was still shock and amazement rolling off of Dean and into the air around them, crackling along the power their kalsika emitted, but Castiel could also detect acceptance and longing while his mate greedily took everything he offered. Their movements were perfectly synchronized as they moved together, giving and taking pleasure as they shared everything that they were with each other and Dean's breathing soon hitched, his mate's eyes wide as his love continued to flow unabated directly into Dean's soul. Even when he finally reached down to prepare his hunter with his own oils, he refused to break their eye contact despite the fact that Dean was trembling once more with the sheer intensity of it all. Not only could he detect no desire to slow things down, but the flow of Dean's feelings for him in and around his Grace was not something he could give up.  
  
His mate's feelings surged around Castiel as he slid into Dean, uniting them physically as surely as they were both emotionally and spiritually. The power now crackled even more brightly in the room around them, visible even to normal human eyes, and yet his mate made absolutely no move to glance away from his gaze even though he knew that they were so far past Dean's normal comfort zone for emotional closeness and intimacy. It was such a clear indicator of how much his mate had already healed and been affected by the bond of their kalsika that it caused a strange tightness in his vessel's chest. He had always wanted see Dean's healed enough for his mate to be able to simply accept how special he was and how much he meant to someone that to see the first indicators of it were almost too much to bear. He had never truly let himself hope that it would be him who would one day be able to achieve that goal.  
  
When Dean reached up to pull him down, it wasn't to break their gaze with a kiss but rather to create another point of contact between them as his mate guided him so their foreheads were resting together and they could gaze at each other from inches away. The power of their kalsika grew even stronger and the intensity of their connection was beyond anything Castiel had ever believed possible, tying them so close together that when they came it was together, their physical release merely imitating their emotional and spiritual completion.  
  



	121. Chapter 120

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Castiel let go of their kalsika.

**PAST**  
  
  
Dean felt so good upon waking that it took him a few moments to realize that he was actually awake and not still dreaming. He grunted as he tried to process that, instinctually burrowing deeper into the warmth at his back.  
  
Something was different.  
  
Something had most definitely changed, Dean just wasn't sure what and yet he couldn't work up any panic at this little revelation. Generally when something changed like this it was bad, very,  _very_  bad but now he just felt amazingly well. So well in fact that it just  _couldn't be_  wrong. It was simply impossible. On some level, he was freaked by his own nonchalance, but it just didn't go anywhere. The feeling that he should be panicking was a logical reaction only, not an emotional or instinctive one and it was his instincts that he trusted the most. They'd never really steered him wrong before so he saw no reason to start doubting them now.  
  
Languidly, Dean stretched. He felt his arms extend on command, knocking aside something he was holding and then there was an abrupt shift as if he'd been taken and dunked into a tank full of ice water. He gasped, bolting upright as the feelings of love and security dimmed dramatically, leaving him both lost and confused.  
  
"Dean."  
  
It was Castiel's voice and Dean instantly relaxed a little, then some more as he felt his lover's presence behind him and wings came up to wrap protectively around him.  
  
"Cas," Dean replied before drawing in a sharp breath as the memory of what had happened returned to him.  
  
The initiation of their kalsika, Castiel's sudden appearance, his lover's emotions for him. He swallowed and closed his eyes as he remembered it all, his heart clenching in his chest as he realized that it was real, all of it was real. It had actually happened and wasn't all some bizarre dream he'd made up after reading the book on angelic bondings that Michael had lent him. It also explained what had just happened as well. In stretching he must have inadvertently pushed away their kalsika and thus broken his connection to it and therefore his connection to his lover and all of Castiel's feelings for him.  
  
He wanted it back, dammit.  
  
"Cas," Dean began, voice low and rough as if he'd been screaming when he knew that he hadn't. "Kalsika, I-"  
  
"No, Dean, we shouldn't, much as I want to take hold of it once more as well, we shouldn't," Castiel replied.  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because it isn't meant to be used as a substitute for the bond, but rather as a means to express our intentions and feelings for our mate and to prepare us for the intensity of the actual bonding itself."  
  
"I want it back now."  
  
Even to his own ears, Dean could hear that he was being petulant but he simply didn't care. It had been mind-blowing, feeling Castiel's love and possessiveness for him and he wanted it back. He'd never even dreamed about having anyone feel so much for him, he simply hadn't been able to imagine it, so to lose it now after having gotten it and having been able to bask in it for so long was horrible.  
  
"Just because you can't feel it anymore does not mean that I do not love you just that strongly at present," Castiel stated. "You know precisely how I feel now."  
  
The words made Dean pause as they were true, completely true. He opened his eyes and turned to look at his angel only to be captured by his lover's piercing blue gaze, now made all the more powerful and intense as he  _knew_ , literally  _knew_ , precisely what lay behind it. It made his breath catch and between it and the memory he was nearly overwhelmed once more.  
  
"Yeah, okay," Dean finally agreed after what seemed like an eternity. "But I still miss it."  
  
"As do I and I find myself quite impatient for the actual bonding."  
  
"Me too. Can we do it now?"  
  
Castiel smiled. "No, as you know given that you read the book."  
  
For a moment Dean wished that he hadn't admitted to reading the book, but then it vanished as he recalled his lover's memory of that moment. Of how Castiel would never have accepted his kalsika and in turn completed the initiation without that admission from him.  
  
Without the knowledge that Dean knew exactly what it was that he was doing.  
  
The memory filled him with warmth, the knowledge that someone cared so much for him as to deny themselves something they wanted so badly just to ensure that he didn't do something that he'd regret later on almost incomprehensible to Dean. Almost. It was odd in a way. He knew that before he'd never have been able to either comprehend or accept that even Castiel loved him that much, but now he could. It was a slow, dawning realization, but he was completely sure of it nonetheless. That fact alone amazed him and it was with a start that he understood how deeply their connection had already changed him. Or how profoundly just being able to experience Castiel's love for him as his lover felt it had affected him. He felt like he could do anything now,  _be_  anything, just because of that tenuous, fleeting connection they'd experienced together.  
  
Dean felt another wave of shock roll through him as he realized that this was part of why he'd felt so wonderful when he'd first woken up. Sure, their kalsika and the emotions that it had transmitted had played a huge part in it, no question of it, but that alone hadn't been all of it. Not by a long shot. No, the change ran much, much deeper than that, all the way through his psyche and right down to his very soul. It was... he wasn't quite sure what it was, but it ran far deeper than he could even comprehend. Despite that, it didn't scare him in the least and instead he lunged forwards, grasping his angel and trying to burrow into him. When Castiel's wings closed in tightly behind him, almost completely engulfing him, he sighed, content.  
  
How long they remained there like that, simply holding each other, Dean didn't know but eventually their peace was interrupted by the sudden growling of his stomach. Even then he didn't want to let go, happy to just remain there like that, wrapped up in Castiel, warmed by the memory of what his lover felt for him and his new sense of completion and peace. However he knew that they couldn't do that and not just because of such physical needs as hunger and thirst either.  
  
"What would you like to eat?" Castiel asked, pulling back a little.  
  
"Uh, I dunno, what time is it?" Dean replied stretching languidly once more and enjoying the way his lover's eyes followed the movements.  
  
"Early morning."  
  
"Morning? But it was only just past noon when I started the ritual!"  
  
"You were tired and needed to recover and heal."  
  
It was on the tip of Dean's tongue to ask  _what_  exactly that he needed to heal from, but he swallowed it down. He actually had a fairly good idea even if he didn't want to examine it too closely. He was quite happy to just accept the fact that the sudden change in how he felt and saw things couldn't have been brought about by nothing without looking too deeply at just what that something was. Besides, it didn't really matter how it had happened, just that it had and that he was ecstatic about the results seeing as he felt better than he ever had before in his miserable life.  
  
"Surprise me," Dean said, unable to make up his mind.  
  
Castiel smiled. "Very well."  
  
With a flutter of wings, his lover was gone and Dean just lay in the bed for a moment longer, basking in how wonderful he felt. The soft play of multicoloured light on the ceiling reminded him of their kalsika and he turned to look at it where it lay further down the bed. He'd be lying if he said that he wasn't tempted to reach out and touch it (Hell, who  _wouldn't_  be tempted?) but at the same time the thought felt wrong as well. Holding it while Castiel was present and doing the same was one thing, but doing it on his own when his angel couldn't experience his feelings for his lover, it just felt wrong somehow.  
  
Not to mention that Dean simply loved the fact that he could already feel as awesome as he did without touching it. Sure, feeling the actual thing was most definitely better, but simply the memory of Castiel's love and the knowledge of it was enough and before he realized it, he was humming as he got up to take a shower. True it was Led Zeppelin and Stairway to Heaven, but  _still_ , he was fucking  _humming_. Him, Dean Winchester. Who'd have thought?  
  
Yet, despite that, Dean couldn't bring himself to wipe the ridiculous grin off his face even when he caught sight of it in the mirror.  
  
Nor could he stop humming.  
  


* * *

  
  
Dean was still in a fantastic mood when he entered the living room and his smile only widened when he saw that his angel was already back, standing at the table.  
  
"Hey, Cas, so what did you get me?" Dean inquired, stomach rumbling loudly at the wonderful aroma that drifted his way. It smelled vaguely familiar and when flashes of Christmas ornaments came to him he instantly remembered. "Hey, did you get those egg bene-something thingies? Those were awesome!"  
  
"Dean."  
  
His name was said softly but it still had the power to make him stop dead in his tracks for a moment, wondering what he'd said or done as Castiel didn't sound amused or carefree. No instead his lover sounded pained and... frustrated? Exasperated? Hopeless? Dean wasn't quite sure what, but he knew that it wasn't good.  
  
"What?" Dean asked, wondering if everything really had been too good to be true.  
  
He really hoped that wasn't it as for once in his life he'd really started to believe that something not only good, but downright phenomenal had happened to him without any strings attached. Instead of replying, Castiel turned around and Dean saw that his lover held the blessed pewter chalice from which he'd drunk the purification potion earlier. He frowned as he saw it, brow furrowing as he tried to figure out what had upset his lover.  
  
"You baptized yourself?" Castiel questioned.  
  
"Baptized?" Dean repeated, confused.  
  
"Purified," Castiel clarified. "It is the true meaning of the word."  
  
"Oh, well yeah."  
  
"Why?"  
  
The near anguish on his angel's voice made Dean take a few steps closer so he could touch Castiel.  
  
"Well the book said it was necessary if one of the two was impure," Dean shrugged. "And you know I've hardly been a saint. Ever since the first time I had sex, I, uh, well you know."  
  
He actually felt the desire to blush but Dean fought it down. He'd never been ashamed of his active and healthy sex drive before and he wasn't about to start now. Castiel had known this about him before they'd gotten together so he didn't think he needed to feel bad about it now. Well, not unless it was going to get in the way of the bonding, then he sure as hell was going to regret it, and badly, but not before that.  
  
"Sex?" Castiel repeated, tilting his head, clearly confused.  
  
Now it was Dean's turn to pause. "Isn't that what they were talking about? Having had previous sexual relationships?"  
  
"No, why would you think that?"  
  
"It said purity and well, virgins are considered pure while those who've had sex, especially lots of it with many different partners, aren't."  
  
"That is what you were thinking?" Castiel asked, relief in his voice.  
  
"Yeah, why, what does it actually mean?"  
  
"It is referring to any impurities in the Grace or, in your case, the soul."  
  
Sheer habit had Dean already halfway to a response to that before he paused. Normally he'd have said that it wouldn't have made a difference, and indeed it  _wouldn't_  have at the time he'd, apparently, baptized himself. Now, however, having seen himself through his lover's eyes, having seen  _his soul_  as the angel did, he found that he couldn't really bring himself to believe that anymore now, much less actually say it. It smacked far too much of some stick thin chick trying to convince him that she couldn't accept a drink as she had to lose weight.  
  
Castiel's fingers on his chin tipped his face down and Dean was looking into his lover's astonished eyes. Astonished and reverent as he knew exactly what his angel was thinking, couldn't do anything else what they'd done last night. Castiel was shocked that he was  _wasn't_  saying what he would have said before the kalsika ritual.  
  
"It wasn't completely illogical," Dean declared, defending himself. "I mean I have done all kinds of awful things."  
  
"Dean-"  
  
"No, I  _know_  now, okay, I'm just saying that given what I'd done and the fact that I couldn't see my own soul, I don't think it was that unreasonable of me to think what I did."  
  
"Only because you were overlooking a critical aspect of the equation," Castiel argued.  
  
"Yeah? And what was that?"  
  
"Why you did it all. What drove you to do what you did. Your intentions have always been completely pure, Dean, regardless of the outcome."  
  
Some part of Dean wanted to protest that, to deny it, but it was an old part of him that reacted out of habit. It was amazing how much he hesitated to act on those old habits now; how quickly things could change, including all of his old instincts. He still wanted to protest but given what he'd seen he found that he just couldn't. Perhaps this specific reason wasn't true, but  _something_  obviously was as his soul was definitely not only squeaky clean, but completely pure, even he couldn't deny that anymore and he squirmed in discomfort, but the joy that Castiel got out of his acknowledgement was all that he needed to prevent himself from trying to go and hide himself or to start spouting some random, and often offensive or injurious, nonsense in a desperate attempt to deflect attention from the topic at hand.  
  
"So, I assume this is why nothing happened when I took it?" Dean asked, gesturing at the chalice.  
  
"Of course. What did you think?"  
  
Dean shrugged. "I just assumed I'd done something wrong or that it was doing something that I couldn't feel."  
  
"Of course you did."  
  
"You know some people consider sarcasm the lowest form of wit."  
  
"They have obviously never met you," Castiel replied easily. "Or they never took the time to truly get to know you, which is their loss."  
  
Okay, new him aside, Dean  _still_  felt uncomfortable when his lover said shit like that. It was good to know that some things hadn't changed even if he was quite happy with those that had.  
  
"Okay, Dr. Phil, I think that's enough sharing and caring for now," Dean stated. "I'm starving, let's eat!"  
  
Dean thought he caught a hint of relief in his angel's face at the familiarity of his statement. Making eye contact with his lover was clearly a mistake as, true to his and Castiel's history, they ended up staring at each other for who knew how long. And God only knew how long they would have continued to do so if his stomach hadn't growled again.  
  
This time Dean did blush as Castiel laughed.


	122. Chapter 121

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raphael drops by for a visit.

**PAST**  
  
  
The flutter of wings was a welcome distraction for Dean and he looked up ready to welcome his visitor only for his eyes to go wide as Raphael appeared, stumbling ever so slightly. It wasn't really much of anything and with a human he wouldn't have thought twice about it, but the archangel  _wasn't_  human and it worried him a little. His eyes flickered to Raphael's left set if wings and he caught sight of the patch of newly grown silver feathers on each of them where the key had impaled them. Unlike the rest of the archangel's feathers, they were in disarray and he remembered Castiel saying it had affected his landings as well until the new feathers were strong enough to handle the strain of flight.  
  
Clearly Raphael had gotten far too impatient to wait until he was ready to fly properly.  
  
"Hey, Raph," Dean greeted. "Something up?"  
  
"Nothing you need concern yourself with, just some demonic activity in Asia that the seraphs are handling."  
  
"Oh, okay, that's not too bad, though I have to admit that I'm kinda waiting for the other shoe to drop here."  
  
"Other shoe?"  
  
Dean waved a hand. "It's an expression. Basically it means that I'm waiting for Lucifer to do something else."  
  
"Most of his energy is probably still focused on breaking the Rite of Contressa and Simiel might have only just recovered from our fight herself."  
  
"Oh, good points. But if that's not why you're here, then what's up?" Dean asked before he realized how rude that sounded as both Michael and Castiel showed up at times to just hang out. "Not that you need a reason but you normally do."  
  
"I wished to come thank you once more for what you did in South Africa."  
  
"Oh, dude, that was nothing."  
  
"No, it was not."  
  
Dean's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Well in that case, you're welcome. But seriously, don't worry about it. You distracted her from hurting me in the first place, remember? I'm just sorry that I let her get the key from me."  
  
As he said it, Dean couldn't help but look back towards Raphael's injuries and he winced at the memory of seeing those powerful wings pinned down like some insect's on display. Even if he hadn't known how sensitive an angel's wings were, he'd have been able to guess how painful that had to be.  
  
"That is hardly the same," Raphael replied.  
  
"Why, 'cause I'm human?" Dean demanded and was startled to see the archangel's eyes look away. It was clear that had been Raphael's point and yet the archangel didn't seem to want to come right out and say it. Odd as it seemed, the only reason he could fathom for Raphael's hesitancy was that the archangel didn't want to offend him. "Look, Raph, I get it, okay? I realize how much more powerful you guys are than me, I'm fully aware when with Mike, remember? But I'm not going to let that stop me from helping when I can, especially not when there are lives at stake."  
  
"You are going to get yourself killed like that."  
  
"It wouldn't be the first time. Besides, I've had more than a few confrontations with archangels now, including yourself, and none of them has killed me yet. Well, except for that one time with Gabriel but that doesn't count as I didn't know that he was an archangel at the time and I didn't actually do anything, it was all on him."  
  
That obviously made some kind of impact as Raphael was quiet for a moment, thinking. "You do the unexpected, it catches us off-guard."  
  
"Yeah, but I also use your arrogance against you as none of you take me seriously as a threat."  
  
"No, none of us  _did_. I believe that has changed now, so you'll need to be more cautious in the future."  
  
"Probably," Dean admitted.  
  
"No, not probably, definitely," Raphael argued, voice firm as he stepped closer. "Michael and Castiel would be devastated if you died."  
  
The words hit Dean like bullets and he flinched but he knew that they were true. Even though his death wouldn't put him out of the reach of either of them, he knew that it would hit them hard, Castiel in particular. In addition he'd really hate to be stuck in Heaven if the Apocalypse was still ongoing if they couldn't bring him back for one reason or another.  
  
"I know," Dean replied softly. "I'll try and be more careful, but I can't just let a chance go by to end this either."  
  
"I know," Raphael stated and Dean was surprised to realize that the archangel did. "But I would also hate to be thus upset."  
  
Dean blinked before he realized what Raphael was saying at which point he smirked and raised his eyebrows. "Upset, huh?"  
  
"Yes," Raphael confirmed, turning his head away as if not really interested, but Dean could still see the archangel looking at him out of the corner of his eyes. "I find that I have become partial to you."  
  
"Partial, huh?" His smirk turned into a huge smile at the confession. "I like you too, Raph."  
  
"First you say it to annoy me, then you mean it as friendship. I am never going to get you to call me by my full name on a regular basis, am I?"  
  
"Nope, so just get used to it. Raph."  
  
Raphael was now looking at him through slitted eyes, head tilted to one side and Dean just knew that the archangel was trying to come up with something to call him and he couldn't wait to see what his newest friend came up with. Creativity wasn't exactly a common gift amongst angels, so he wasn't expecting anything too awful.  
  
The ringing of his cell phone interrupted them abruptly and Dean answered it without looking to see who it was.  
  
"Hello, cupcake."  
  
"Crowley," Dean replied, his good humor vanishing in an instant.  
  
"Tell me, mate, how attached are you to cupcake as I've been thinking that lover boy might be more suitable given your new... ah, how shall I say it?, proclivities."  
  
"Are you calling for a reason or are you really so bored that you want to talk about my sex life?"  
  
"But your sex life seems so interesting. Really, what's it like to top an angel? Or is he the one who tops you?"  
  
"Crowley."  
  
"See, I'd assumed that it was you on top as dear old Castiel just didn't strike me as the dominant type, but then I remembered that we're dealing with the little angel that could here."  
  
"Problem getting it up yourself? Is that why you've suddenly got this voyeuristic interest?"  
  
"What, you think I called just to hear your voice, cupcake?"  
  
"You're the one calling me pet names."  
  
Crowley laughed. "Even I know better than to go after the squeeze of an angel, especially one as obsessed with you as little Castiel."  
  
"If that's a crude way of fishing for information, I'm not going to bite."  
  
"Can't blame a demon for trying."  
  
"What do you have, Crowley?"  
  
"That little blow up in Asia your angels are dealing with?"  
  
Dean considered denying that they were 'his' angels but then figured it probably wasn't worth it. He doubted the demon would believe him anyway and given his and Castiel's relationship and his lover's current position, it was probably a moot point anyway. Besides, for all he knew maybe that did make them his angels from a demonic point of view. He'd never bothered learning too much about those aspects of demonic culture even as he'd become intimately acquainted with other aspects of it. The finer points of cultural nuisances had never been his thing, whether human or demonic.  
  
"Yeah, what about it?"  
  
"It's a diversion, meant to make you think you're on top of things when really there is more going on."  
  
"That's generally what diversions are for," Dean retorted dryly, glancing at Raphael in concern.  
  
The archangel had stepped closer to him despite the fact that Dean doubted his friend needed to do so in order to hear everything that was being said on both ends of the call. Nor did he doubt the fact that at this very moment orders were being sent fast and furious from Raphael to any of countless other angels, preparing them for battle if necessary.  
  
"Oh, Dean, always so cynical. I really like that about you even if it makes a demon feel underappreciated, especially after all of the effort I went through to contact you in the first place."  
  
"Hey, I called you back, didn't I?"  
  
It wasn't until he'd said it that Dean realized the additional implications to what he'd said and he was extremely thankful such subtleties of human communication were beyond Raphael's understanding. Crowley's, however...  
  
"Why, cupcake, I hadn't realized you saw it that way."  
  
"The information, Crowley," Dean growled.  
  
"Touchy, touchy. Did I interrupt something?"  
  
Raphael reached for the phone, but Dean twisted away and shook his head. At the moment Crowley still believed that the situation was much as it had been the last time that they'd worked together with the exception that Castiel now had some pull in Heaven, and he was determined to keep it that way for as long as possible. The less the King of the Crossroads knew the better as far as he was concerned as he knew just how devious this particular demon could be.  
  
"But, anyway," Crowley continued pleasantly. "The real action's down in Mexico, at the site of the ancient city of Teotihuacan."  
  
"Teoteawakki?"  
  
"Teotihuacan, you simple little human, only one of the greatest cities ever."  
  
"Well excuse me if ancient crap doesn't exactly appear on my radar. What the hell does Lucy want down there anyway?"  
  
"I don't know, not exactly, but there are whispers about some artefact or something. Whatever it is, it's powerful and your angel's big brother wants it bad."  
  
"Bad enough to start a bloodbath half a world away," Dean muttered darkly. "You got anything else on this?"  
  
"Just that the place is a veritable deathtrap. All that dark magic gone wild and uncontrolled over the centuries is extremely dangerous as well as unpredictable. The only reason the demons are there is because they're more afraid of Lucifer than what could happen to them."  
  
"Whoa, wait, what dark magic?"  
  
"The rituals and spells the inhabitants used back in the day. You've never heard of their propensity for human sacrifices?"  
  
"Shit."  
  
"Inelegant, but unarguable. Centuries of spilt blood, dark rituals and deals made with all manner of pagan gods and demons of all stripes has definitely left its mark. I doubt even your little angel knows exactly what lies there, cupcake."  
  
"Wonderful. I don't suppose you'll come along for the ride?"  
  
"And hand myself over to dear old daddy on a silver platter? No, the physical end of this relationship is all yours, darling, I'm just the brains. You're the brawn as you're so good at that."  
  
"Screw you, Crowley," Dean snapped and hung up. "I really hate that demon."  
  
"I concur, though he has proven to be useful," Raphael stated absently.  
  
"His story checks out?"  
  
"Not at first glance, but when Michael had a closer look, he found that an inordinate number of visitors on the site were actually possessed."  
  
"Visitors?"  
  
"Teotihuacan is now a well-visited tourist attraction."  
  
"Oh that's just brilliant. Any idea what Lucifer wants there?"  
  
"No and that is worrying," Raphael replied. "None of the research I have done even hints at one of the gateway keys being anywhere near that area and none of the others can think of a reason why Lucifer would be interested in it at all. Especially given the inherent risks of sending demons there as he is sure to lose most of them trying to attain whatever it is that he desires."  
  
"Great, so basically we're going into this totally blind." And wasn't that just the story of his life these past few years? "Wait, if this is something important enough for Lucy to try and keep us from knowing about it and given how many tries it might take demons to obtain what he wants, wouldn't it just be easier for him to get it himself or to send Simiel to do so?"  
  
The archangel winced slightly and a distasteful expression crossed Raphael's face. "Crowley was not mistaken when he said that even Castiel didn't know everything that lies in the ruins of Teotihuacan. It is nexus of great and extremely unpredictable power, most of it Dark in nature. Blood is an extremely good magical conductor and when intertwined with such strong emotions as those experienced by the victims sacrificed its potency is only enhanced, to the point where it has thoroughly saturated the entire area in unpredictable and wild magic."  
  
"So basically your brother is being a coward and sending the demons to do his dirty work for him so that he doesn't have to risk himself or his most powerful ally," Dean concluded. "Could it really harm you guys?"  
  
"There is some precedence for it as a few seraphs vanished in the area once, long ago."  
  
Dean closed his eyes at the words and swallowed hard at the thought of his lover or his new friends going there though he knew that it was inevitable. Despite all that had happened, part of him still wanted to cling desperately to the idea of the untouchable nature of angels that he'd once believed in.  
  
"So what's the plan?"  
  



	123. Chapter 122

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam, Bobby and Samuel learn about the gateway keys and more from Becky.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
"South Africa?" Bobby questioned faintly. "Dean was in South Africa?"  
  
"Yes, Raphael took him there so that Dean could retrieve one of the gateway keys which was being kept within an angel proofed building," Becky stated. "Unfortunately for them, Simiel had also learned about the key being kept there and she attacked as soon as Dean brought it out. I haven't actually read this scene of the book yet, but I know that it was bad, really bad, and both Dean and Raphael were severely injured as Simiel had blocked their ability to contact both Mike and Cas. Chuck was really upset afterwards."  
  
It was official, Sam was now well and truly overloaded with new information and so shocked that each new, individual one no longer registered. He wasn't entirely sure what it was that he was feeling, but there was definitely anger in there. Anger at the two archangels and Castiel for letting his brother get hurt like that, anger at Dean for being so stupid as to become their puppet, anger at the universe for conspiring to keep him in the dark for so long about all of this so that he'd only recently learned about what was going on instead of months ago when he could have made a significant difference and probably have made it so that Lucifer never got out of his cage again.  
  
The anger grew and swelled within him to fury and Sam let it, knowing well how it could sustain and empower him and he'd need all the help that he could get to clean this mess up.  
  
"What's a gateway key?" Samuel inquired, frowning.  
  
"It a key that can open one of the protected gates to Hell, like the Devil's Gate in Wyoming that Sam and Dean had to close when Azazel got one of his kids to open it with the Colt," Becky explained.  
  
"There's more than one?" Sam demanded, dread and horror settling into the pit of his stomach.  
  
"Yes, there are six I think, or was it seven? I'm not entirely sure, but anyway each of them has a key that opens them and Raphael was trying to collect them all while Simiel was trying to find them to open the gates."  
  
"I take it that Simiel hasn't gotten her hands on any of them yet," Bobby said.  
  
"No, but that hasn't stopped Lucifer from just blowing one of the gate's to smithereens regardless. I think he was pissed that Mike and Cas were able to prevent Simiel from running off with the key from South Africa."  
  
"A gate's been opened? Why haven't we heard of it?" Sam demanded. "Jesus, just think of all of the demons that can have gotten out since it happened!"  
  
"Relax, Dean, Mike and Cas took care of it already," Becky replied before she shrugged. "As for why you didn't hear of it, I don't know, maybe because you weren't paying enough attention? It made the news as Lucifer practically blew up the entirety of Devil's Island as well as some of the surrounding ones."  
  
"The disaster down in South America," Samuel realized with a sharp breath. "But Dean and the angels stopped it?"  
  
"They closed the gateway again and sent angels to hunt down the demons that got out, yes."  
  
Sam closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Just how much else had his brother already allowed happen? Surely it should have been obvious to Dean by now that things were well and truly out of his control? Why the hell hadn't his brother contacted Bobby for help? If Dean had only done that, then he'd have heard of all of this long ago enough to have prevented at least some of this mess. But no, his stubborn older brother had to play martyr and deal with it all himself, well either that or his pride had simply not allowed him to admit to anyone that Dean needed help and badly. It was the same type of macho bullshit their father would have pulled and just look at how well that had ended for all of them. So typical. Sometimes he wondered how he could even be related to the two of them. He figured that he probably took a lot more after his mother, which would explain why he'd gotten along so well with her side of the family until just recently.  
  
"Okay, so let me make sure that I've got all of this straight," Sam began. "Lucifer is out and about, and once again able to take a vessel. He has also got another archangel named Simiel on his side who first joined him when he rebelled in Heaven."  
  
"That's right," Becky confirmed, sneering at him.  
  
"Now, on the other hand we have Michael and Raphael who are working with Dean and Cas and Dean has already said yes to Michael. Have I got all of that right?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"So why the hell hasn't Michael attacked Lucifer yet? Surely he's not waiting until Lucifer has me once more?"  
  
"No, of course not. Mike-"  
  
"- Always wanted to kill his brother while wearing Dean as a prom dress. Now that he has Dean, why isn't he attacking?"  
  
"Because he doesn't want that anymore!" Becky declared in frustration. "I've already told you! Mike now wants the same thing as everyone else on the good side. He wants to avert the Apocalypse, not win it like he used to. And, in order to do so, it has to end differently, which means that he can't just kill Lucifer. Not to mention that any attempt to do so would destroy a large part of Earth as Lucifer is quite powerful in his own right, true vessel or not. You of all people should know this, Sam."  
  
"Believe me, I do," Sam retorted darkly. "But you can't honestly believe that Michael has just done a one-eighty and is now completely on our side. He's just pretending in order to get Dean wrapped around his little finger. He and Raphael have some kind of plan up their sleeves, we just need to figure out what it is before it's too late."  
  
"Are you even hearing yourself? Get your head out of your ass for once in your life!"  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"I can't even believe that I not only believed you once but actually  _liked_  you," Becky stated, a look of disgust on her face. "You're entirely convinced of your own righteousness, aren't you? Well newsflash, Sam, you're  _not_  the Righteous Man, Dean is, you're just self-righteous."  
  
Sam's fury and disbelief at that had him taking several steps closer to Becky only to suddenly find Bobby in his way.  
  
"Enough of this!" Bobby ordered, glaring at him. "Get a hold of yourself, Sam."  
  
"But she-"  
  
"What? Hurt your feelings? Boo ho, get over it, princess, we have bigger things to worry about here than your wounded ego. Now, you had the right idea in summing things up."  
  
"I concur," Samuel stated. "Is there anything else we should know about, Ms. Rosen?"  
  
Becky snorted inelegantly. "How should I know? It's not like I'm aware of what you do and don't know. Besides, even if I did, why should I tell you if Dean and his archangels didn't?"  
  
"So you admit it," Sam snapped. "It's the archangels running the show."  
  
"I said nothing of the sort!"  
  
"You said Dean and his archangels, making absolutely no reference to Cas."  
  
"Why would I mention him separately? If I was going to mention him by name, then I'd have to mention Raphael and Mike separately as well, which would make mentioning the archangel thing irrelevant to begin with."  
  
Bobby had gone very still and Sam tensed in response even before he'd fully realized it. They'd been on far too many hunts together for him not to react to the older hunter's body language automatically and this one typically indicated danger even if it now probably signalled either shock or disbelief instead. As soon as he figured that out, he allowed himself to relax once more though he felt dread rising within him once more. What now?  
  
"Are you saying that Castiel is now an archangel?" Bobby inquired softly, eyes focused solely on Becky.  
  
"You didn't know?" Becky questioned, surprised.  
  
Oh shit.  _Castiel_  was now an archangel? When the hell had this happened?  
  
"No," Bobby replied. "It never came up."  
  
"Oh, well he is."  
  
"Stull Cemetery?"  
  
"Yes, it's one of the reasons why Mike and Raphael initially listened to Dean and Cas, God has never before promoted an angel, much less brought one back from the dead not once, but twice."  
  
Oh great, this was just what they needed, an  _archangel_  that was totally obsessed with his brother. Sam winced as he thought of all that could go wrong with  _that_. Dean had never been particularly responsible, always being more of an overgrown kid than anything else. To hand his brother that kind of power with absolutely no restrictions whatsoever?  _That_  was a recipe for disaster right there if he'd ever heard of one. It was amazing but he now couldn't help but hope that Michael and Raphael had a serious hold on Dean or they wouldn't have to worry about Lucifer destroying the world. Humans weren't meant to have that kind of power for a reason and the last thing he wanted was to see the consequences of one getting it, even if indirectly, play out all around him.  
  
"Thank you, you have been very helpful, Ms. Rosen," Samuel said.  
  
"It was a pleasure to meet you," Becky replied. "And you too, Bobby, I have read so much about you and I know how much you've done for Dean even if you did betray him."  
  
Sam gritted his teeth at this, not missing how Bobby flinched at the words. He was starting to have some serious doubts about whether staying with his family and the older hunter was really the best course of action, but what else could he do? He needed them in order to complete the purification rituals and besides, hunting alone just now was nothing short of suicidal. He had no choice, really, but he'd have to see about what he could do about stepping up his efforts to make the others see the truth about what was really going on here.  
  
He opened his mouth to say something more, to ask for more, but Bobby took his arm and shook his head.  
  
"It won't work," Bobby whispered. "She's too mad at you and won't tell us any more than she already has."  
  
A quick glance over at Becky told Sam that the other hunter was right and it annoyed him. He'd had such high hopes about coming here and while they had learned a ton of really interesting and important information about what was going on, it wasn't nearly enough. Not nearly and, besides, they hadn't actually had a chance to speak with Chuck himself. He was sure that the prophet would be far more sympathetic to his plight than some flighty fangirl who'd abandoned him at the drop of a hat just because he wasn't a pervert while his brother, once again, had thrown all common sense and decency out the window and decided to enter into a blasphemous and sacrilegious relationship with Castiel. Seriously, was Dean trying to get himself smote by God Himself? It would serve his brother right for daring to defile an angel. It wasn't like there weren't more than enough guys out there who'd have been happy to help Dean scratch his new itch, so why the hell had his brother gone and done something so monumentally stupid? Did Dean really get some perverse pleasure out of corrupting everything pure and innocent that he came across?  
  
"Well that was enlightening," Samuel said awkwardly when they stood on Chuck's front doorstep once more.  
  
Bobby snorted. "That's one way of putting it."  
  
"You really already knew about Dean and Cas?" Sam demanded, turning to look at their old friend. "Why the hell didn't you tell me?"  
  
"Because I was afraid you'd react this way, ya idjit. Besides, it wasn't my place to tell you about it."  
  
"Dean's my brother!"  
  
"Not like you've been treating him as such lately."  
  
"Look who's talking," Sam shot back, hurt and angry.  
  
"I'm not denying that I've treated him poorly, but at least I've apologized to Dean. You can't say the same."  
  
"Because I've got nothing to apologize for! I had Dean's best interests at heart when I decided not to tell him about my return, it's not my fault that he went and screwed up the one good thing that he had going for him regardless. Besides, now he knows that it was his own fault, otherwise he'd always have wondered or blamed me for breaking him and Lisa up."  
  
"Are you even hearing yourself?" Bobby demanded. "You, you, you, you. Becky was right, just for once in your life get your head out of your ass and see what's really going on around you. The world doesn't revolve around you, princess."  
  
"Could have fooled me. Who was Azazel after when he came to our house in Lawrence? Me. Who did he want decades later to lead his demon army despite having other kids like me? Me. Who did Lucifer want, no,  _need_ , as his vessel? Me. Who had to go and save us all from the Apocalypse, sacrificing himself in the process? Me."  
  
A part of Sam couldn't help but wonder if Bobby was about to have a heart attack as the man's face was a puce sort of color that he'd never seen before and it kind of alarmed him, but not enough to back down any. How dare the man accuse him of being selfish when his whole life he'd been nothing but a slave to the desires and designs of others? Even his time at Stanford had been nothing more than a temporary release granted to him by his father and Azazel before they'd tried to draw him back under their thumbs once more. All he'd ever wanted was to have some control over his own life and to be left alone, was that so much to ask for? Instead what he got was demand after demand, disaster after disaster, mess after mess, all of which he had to clean up.  
  
"All of that was you, huh?" Bobby questioned quietly. "I guess your poppa, Dean and I were just sitting around with our collective thumbs up our asses, right? Leaving you to take care of it all by your all suffering lonesome."  
  
"I'm not saying that you didn't help out occasionally-"  
  
"Occasionally, of course, wouldn't want to give us too much credit now, would you."  
  
"Bobby-"  
  
"No, I've heard more than enough of this hot air," Bobby snapped, shoving past him. "In case you'd forgotten, we've got a hunt to get to, one you put aside in favor of seeking out someone who you thought might stroke your bloated ego. Unless of course the common people are too far below your exulted Majesty and his world-saving tasks?"  
  
Sam flushed, furious. "I looked into the case, nothing will happen for at least a few more days!"  
  
"Oh and the supernatural never changes its patterns. Besides, did you think that it might take us a few days to figure out what we're dealing with and how to kill it?"  
  
"Maybe  _you_  need a few days-"  
  
"Sam," Samuel cut in warningly.  
  
"What?" Sam demanded hotly, turning to face this new attack. "You got something to add as well?"  
  
"Just that you might want to think about what you say next before you actually say it aloud."  
  
"I know what I'm doing!"  
  
A brief flash of something crossed his grandfather's face, but it was gone before Sam could get a good look at it. "You really are your father's son, aren't you?" Samuel stated.  
  
" _What?_  No, I'm  _not_!"


	124. Chapter 123

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teotihuacan.

**PAST**  
  
  
From his current vantage point on one of the nearby mountains overlooking Teotihuacan, Dean was forced to admit that he might have been wrong in thinking that all old stuff was nothing more than uninteresting heaps of rocks. This place, at the very least, was actually kinda of amazing and awe-inspiring. And to think that it had all been built before they had bulldozers or cranes, now that was pretty damned impressive even if magic of any kind had been involved. Not that he thought it could really have been dark magic that created this ancient city as the dark powers weren't particularly good at building- or creating of any kind for that matter, rather the opposite if truth be told. So that pretty much left light magic and tons and tons of backbreaking labor.  
  
Man must it have sucked to have been them. Whoever they were.  
  
"Are you sure that there are demons down there?" Dean asked as he turned back to look at the three archangels behind him.  
  
"Yes," Castiel confirmed. "I can detect an alarming number of them."  
  
"So why does it all look so peaceful? Most demons aren't exactly that patient."  
  
"They have probably been ordered to be subtle," Michael stated. "Lucifer would not want his diversion to be wasted by any reckless or overt actions here."  
  
"Good point. So what's our plan?"  
  
"I am still formulating it."  
  
"Ah."  
  
Dean turned his attention back to the ruins sprawled out before him only now he wasn't looking at it in awe but rather with a far more critical eye. A tactical eye. The biggest problem that they had was the sheer size of the once powerful city. Even now in ruin and probably containing only a fraction of the original buildings, it was massive stretching over what seemed to be an area of at least thirty square miles, if not more than that. How on Earth were they supposed to find a single, unknown artefact back in this even without all of the dark magic lingering all over the place like some lover's forgotten touch, ready to blaze to life once more at a moment's notice?  
  
"Are you sure that Crowley didn't say anything about what it was that Lucifer is looking for?" Castiel asked, coming to stand beside him, his angel's wings brushing his back lightly in greeting.  
  
"No, Dean pushed for more information but it was clear that the demon did not know anything else," Raphael replied for him. "All he knew was that it is rumored to be powerful, for whatever that is worth."  
  
"Gotta teach you to speak in contractions," Dean muttered, looking at his newest friend.  
  
"Contractions?"  
  
"Mm, make you fit in a bit more, or however much that's even possible."  
  
"Normally I would be loath to trust rumors, but Lucifer quite definitely seems to believe them given the number of demons he has devoted to this task and the effort that he has gone to in an attempt to distract us from his true intentions," Michael stated.  
  
"I concur," Castiel replied gravely. "We cannot risk  _not_  reacting to this."  
  
His lover's wording made Dean pause and he bit his lip as he thought about it for a second. "But what if..."  
  
"Yes, Little One?" Michael questioned.  
  
"Is it possible that this could be a trap or ruse of some sort? I mean, make it look like this is important so that we'd confront the demons here on a turf of Lucifer's choosing rich in dark magic and where he has all of the advantages?"  
  
"You mean that there might be no artefact?" Castiel asked.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"It is a possibility worth considering. Michael, Raphael?"  
  
Raphael's head tilted to one side as he thought, eyes roving over the ancient city remains below them. "I do not believe that to be the case here."  
  
"Me neither," Michael added. "Though Lucifer has no qualms using underhanded methods when it suits his purposes, I do not think that he would do so at this stage. His arrogance has always been great enough for him to believe that he could win against me in a fair fight and I do not believe that belief has changed. In the end, he would want to win without cheating if for nothing else than the fact that his pride would require it."  
  
"So cheating on the little stuff is fine but not the big things?" Dean questioned, surprised. "Most people would flip that around entirely."  
  
"Lucifer has never been quite like anyone else," Raphael said ironically.  
  
"I'll say."  
  
"Nevertheless, I believe we should move forward with the utmost caution," Castiel stated, turning to look at him.  
  
"Oh no, nuh uh, not gonna happen, Cas!" Dean retorted, already knowing what his lover wanted of him. "I'm not sitting this one out."  
  
"Dean, the sheer level of dark magic radiating from this place is staggering."  
  
"Yeah, I realize that as even I'm picking up on it."  
  
"You are?" Michael demanded in surprise.  
  
"Yep, which is how I know how bad it must be," Dean confirmed. "But just look at all of those people down there, they're milling around just fine. Not to mention that based on the number of people here now, there must be hundreds of thousands of tourists that come here a year and yet they're all fine or this place wouldn't be open to the public."  
  
"They are not venturing into the sections of the ruins that we will," Castiel argued.  
  
Dean bit back the immediate retort that wanted to issue forth and instead turned around to face his angel head on. "Cas, I love you and I get that you're just trying to look out for me, but you're not going to say where I can and can't go. Especially not when it's probably safer for me to be down there than it is for you. And don't even try and tell me that all of that dark magic won't affect you as Raph already told me that the last angels to venture into there didn't make it out alive."  
  
Despite the fact that he was more than a little annoyed with his angel, Dean found that he couldn't really be angry at Castiel. Not while he still had words like Raphael's 'devastated' running through his head or his own memory of what it had felt like when his lover had been injured. No, those things made him feel far too loved and cared for to feel angry, but he wasn't going to let it stop him from helping out and doing what he knew to be right.  
  
Dean could see Castiel fighting with a part of himself- most likely the part that felt the need to protect him- before his lover finally caved. "Very well, but I am staying with you," Castiel stated.  
  
"Fair enough," Dean replied.  
  
If he'd found his angel the way Castiel had found him the last time in South Africa, he'd be making the same demand so he more than understood it. Besides, he liked working with his lover and Castiel was nothing if not awesome backup.  
  
When Dean turned back to look at the other two archangels, it was to find a small, satisfied smile on Michael's face and he scowled. "Problem, Mikey?"  
  
"Not at all, Little One."  
  
Although Michael's face gave nothing away, Dean knew his friend far too intimately to believe the innocent act. "Bite me."  
  
It said a lot for how far his archangel had come that he got a smirk in reply to his snark instead of a confused look. It made him feel oddly proud even if it did annoy him as well.  _He_  was the reason why all three of the archangels were so much more human these days and he damn well knew it. With a weird pang of regret he couldn't help but wish that Gabriel were still alive to see his brothers now as he was sure the Trickster would have been very proud of them as well. He'd just have to content himself with the knowledge that Gabriel would be glad that his sacrifice had helped to lead them all here.  
  
"So formulated a plan yet on how and where we're going in?" Dean asked, as much to distract himself from those morose thoughts as the fact that he needed to know.  
  
"There seem to be two main areas that the demons are focusing on," Raphael began as dirt from the ground shifted and rose until a miniature model of Teotihuacan lay between them. "Here and here, both are away from the main tourist attractions."  
  
"That is very fortunate for us," Castiel murmured before speaking louder. "We split up?"  
  
"Yes," Michael confirmed. "You and Dean will take this location, while I take command here. Raphael will stay back and coordinate our overall efforts as well as attempt to keep an eye on anything else that the demons may try once they become aware of our presence."  
  
Raphael looked none too pleased at his assignment, but Dean saw that it didn't look like his new friend would protest and for that he was glad. Although mostly healed, Raphael's wings were still bothering him and it was never a good idea to go into a fight like that unless absolutely necessary. He just wasn't sure if it was a history of following Michael's orders that stilled Raphael's tongue or because the archangel wasn't letting pride get the best of him. If it was the latter than Raphael was smarter than him as he knew he'd not let himself be so easily grounded, logical or not.  
  
"How many angels are coming with us?" Dean asked.  
  
"We are splitting a garrison between us to begin with," Castiel replied. "I do not wish to risk any more of our brothers and sisters than that until we know more about how the dark magic will react to our presence, but a further three garrisons are on standby should we require them. Raphael can decide on our best course of action once we begin our assault."  
  
"Sounds like a plan."  
  
As he said it, Dean leaned down to grab the duffle he'd packed before leaving home and slung it over his shoulder.  
  
"What is that?" Michael inquired. "The bright blue item."  
  
Dean beamed. "This? It's a water gun."  
  
"A water gun?"  
  
"Yep, they're normally considered kid's toys but I had an idea the other day. See, instead of filling it with regular water as people normally do so that they can play around and just get each other wet if they aim correctly, I've filled it with Holy water."  
  
"Letting you weaponize the Holy water far more effectively," Michael realized. "A great idea."  
  
"Thanks. And the best part of it? I can't even get into trouble for it either if a cop ever catches me with it as they'd consider it harmless if perhaps a little odd for a man my age."  
  
Honestly, Dean still wasn't sure where the idea had come from. He'd been in the middle of breaking into the boiler room of his apartment block so that he could sanctify the water tank and ensure that everyone who used water in the building wasn't a demon when it had just hit him. True, he had been thinking about Holy water and the benefits thereof, but that was a far cry from thinking of water guns, not that he was complaining, he'd take whatever help he could get, pure, dumb luck included. He just wished that he knew where the sudden burst of inspiration had come from so he could duplicate it.  
  
"Let's go kick some demon ass!"  
  


* * *

  
  
Dean cursed as he dove to the ground behind a convenient statue while the rock behind where he'd stood exploded in a potentially deadly shower of sharp rock fragments, desperately trying to figure out what had gone wrong. Their strategy  _had_  sounded like a plan and a good one too if he were any judge, but like so often it had gone down the shitter in no time flat. Why the hell did that keep happening to them, Dean wondered as he swapped his shotgun for his new water gun. Unlike bullets, water could travel in nonlinear lines if angled correctly and that was exactly what he needed right now as he  _wasn't_  going to stick his head out from behind his cover at the moment. Odds were high that he wouldn't get it back in the same condition if he did, if he got it back at all and he had far too handsome a head to risk anything like that.  
  
"Dean!"  
  
Even with all of the fighting going on around him and the general racket of swords clashing in an enclosed space, there was absolutely no mistaking that voice. "I'm fine, Cas," Dean called back, then smiled in anticipation as he pulled the trigger of his new weapon. A stream of water arched beautifully (in his humble opinion at least) over the statue of the freaky pagan god and was almost instantly followed by infuriated hissing as it found its mark. "Got ya, ya black-eyed son of a bitch!"  
  
The sound had provided him with a better idea of where exactly his target was and Dean used that to adjust his aim before he fired again. The hissing turned to screams now and that told him the demon was probably sufficiently distracted for him to risk a look around the side of the statue. With a visual bead on his target he was able to give her a face full of Holy water and she shrieked before abandoning her host. One down, what seemed like a hundred left to go.  
  
Determined not to let the odds get to him, Dean shifted his focus to the fighting going on near him and let go of the water gun to take hold of the shotgun hanging by his side once more. There was an angel he'd never met before fighting off three demons just a little further away and he didn't think that was fair at all. A few quick shots evened those odds and he got a quick nod of acknowledgement from the angel before he had to shift his attention away towards the two demons that had caught sight of him and were moving his way. With his remaining chambered bullet he caught one of them in the neck before the other was on him. A palm to his chest sent him flying into a stone wall and he would have collapsed if the demon wasn't suddenly right there in his face, holding him up.  
  
"Well lookie what I got, a little human pet amongst all of the angels, must be my lucky day," the black-eyed bastard crowed.  
  
"Oh yeah? Guess again," Dean stated just before he stabbed the idiot with his knife and watched the flash of light that signalled the demon's death with satisfaction. "I'm a hunter, not some camera-toting tourist."  
  
"I'll take that into consideration."  
  
Dean hardly had time to look towards the new voice before he was flying through the air again into yet another stone wall, the knife clattering away from him in the process. And what was it with demons and walls anyway? Some kind of pent-up sexual frustration or something?  
  
"You must be Dean Winchester," the demon said, pinning his hands in place before stepping close. "Father will be so happy to see you."  
  
"Really? That's just too bad 'cause I'm not interested in seeing him again, he's got the worst manners of anyone that I've ever met."  
  
The invisible force restraining him tightened further and he had to gasp for air.  
  
"You will not talk of Lucifer so disrespectfully! You will learn your place before you die, vermin. And don't think that any of your little tricks will work on me, I know too much about you to fall for any of them."  
  
Dean snorted, eyes locked on something beyond the demon's shoulder. "There's obviously one thing about me that you don't know."  
  
"Do you really expect me to fall for that old tri-"  
  
The demon was cutoff mid-word as Castiel ran him through with his sword and Dean rolled his shoulders as he was released. "No, but you've clearly not heard that I've got a few archangels on my side. Thanks, Cas."  
  
His lover handed him back his knife while looking him over. "Are you injured?"  
  
"Nothing more than a few cuts and bruises." Two fingers to his forehead quickly took care of those even before Dean could protest and tell his angel to save his energy for more important things. "How are we doing?"  
  
"Not well," Castiel stated gravely. "The dark magic is not only hampering our abilities to fight normally, but it has already ensnared and killed four of my siblings."  
  
"What, four?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"How?"  
  
"We are not sure, our view of it was blocked."  
  
"Crap. What about the other garrisons, are you calling them in?"  
  
"Raphael has done so but they cannot get in, something is blocking their passage."  
  
"So what? We're on our own?"  
  
"It would appear so."  
  



	125. Chapter 124

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things go from bad to worse at Teotihuacan.

**PAST**  
  
  
Dean muttered and cursed as he fought off the demons with Castiel, hoping that Michael was faring better than them. No matter how many demons that they seemed to maim or kill, others constantly took their place.  
  
"Can the demons get past whatever is holding you guys out?" Dean asked, darting forward with his knife to stab the demon his lover was fighting.  
  
He'd found it a handy trick, let Castiel distract them with his sword and then come in from behind his angel, generally under Castiel's wing and arm, and knife the demon before it even realized that he was there. Not that they'd probably have paid him much head if they had noticed him as most of the demons seemed to ignore him in favor of focusing on the angels. He was kinda insulted by that even if he could see why they might consider the angels a far great threat than him. Besides, most of them didn't seem to realize just who exactly he was and he had absolutely no qualms about using that against them. Especially not given the discrepancy in numbers in this fight.  
  
"Yes," Castiel stated. "And Raphael says that they have reinforcements arriving."  
  
"Fuck, that's just great."  
  
"Considering that they arrived on the other side of the barrier, it's not all that bad."  
  
Dean smiled as he thought of  _that_  particular scene. He bet those demons hadn't expected to arrive only to be confronted by three garrisons of angry angels, just spoiling for a fight.  
  
"I guess the game's up and Lucy knows that we're only him."  
  
"Of that I have no doubt."  
  
There was an ominous rumble far closer than any of the others that he'd heard recently and Dean threw himself to the side, only just checking the instinct to try and shove his lover aside. Given the situation, Castiel's initial impulse would not be to give way but rather to stand firm and he had no desire to do the equivalent of running full tilt into a brick wall. There was a loud crash from where he'd just stood before rocks of various sizes hit his arms where he had them up, protecting his head.  
  
The moment he stopped getting pelted with rock fragments, Dean rolled painfully to the side just in case a demon had sought to use the distraction to his advantage. He needn't have bothered as the only demons nearby had been crushed under the collapse of the ceiling. In the light of the sun that now streamed into the chamber, he could see his lover standing tall among the debris, coated in a light dusting of rock and wearing a startled expression that made him laugh once. Only an angel could come out of something like that looking perplexed rather than shocked or in pain.  
  
The sound of his laugh seemed to snap Castiel out of it and Dean watched his lover stab once into the rumble before flying to his side as he got to his feet.  
  
"Dean, are you okay?" Castiel demanded.  
  
"Yeah, got out of the way in time."  
  
"Good, come."  
  
They used the opportunity to get back towards the main group of angels whom they'd gotten somewhat separated from and Dean switched to his water gun. With all of the angels around, he was able to refill it before he began to fire, not needing to worry about his aim as the Holy water wasn't even the minor irritant a salt round was to an angel. The close proximity did turn out to have one disadvantage which he soon discovered upon getting a face full of feathers when turning around to look behind him.  
  
The angel whose wing it was looked just as startled as him and Dean had a split-second to reflect that most of those present here of the angelic variety had probably never even encountered a human that could  _see_  their wings, let alone actually  _touch_  them. Then he noticed the demon trying to use the angel's distraction to its advantage and he brought his water gun to bear and gave it a face full of Holy water. That seemed to snap the angel out of her shock and she turned around to finish the demon off.  
  
"How's Mike holding up?" Dean asked, turning back to Castiel and frowning at the displeased look that crossed his lover's face until Castiel reached forwards and plucked a steel gray feather from his shoulder. "It was an accident as she thought that they'd pass right through me like normal."  
  
Castiel seemed to want to protest that, but then let it go. "Michael has been similarly attacked but the demons there seem to be fleeing now."  
  
"Great, so either they're more intimidating than us or the demons have realized that what they want isn't there."  
  
"Michael believes it to be the latter as the demons only started to flee after breaking into and ransacking a chamber filled with all manner of ancient treasure and artefacts."  
  
"Shit. So where's that chamber here? Surely there must be one or they wouldn't be here."  
  
"I don't know."  
  
Their conversation was interrupted as more demons showed up and since they'd somehow worked their way to the edge of the melee once more, Dean swapped the water gun for his shotgun and started firing away, able to hit some of the demons long before they were in range of angelic swords.  
  
This wave of the attack was so fierce and the demon numbers so large that at first Dean didn't feel the swell of magic in the air around him and it wasn't until it had reached significant proportions that it captured his attention. The feel of it made his hair stand on end and a shiver raced down his spine, the feel of it dark and slick, like some slime that he'd accidentally rolled into. It clung to the air, poisoning it and he watched with horror as the angels near him blanched and seemed to physically wilt before his eyes.  
  
"Cas!" Dean called out, eyes darting about frantically to find his lover.  
  
His angel seemed to be doing a little better than his siblings, but not by much. Dean could see how much it was affecting Castiel when their eyes met. He opened his mouth to say more when the magic seemed to swell in the air all around them before it  _pulsed_. He stumbled like he'd been hit, watching in horror as all of the angels around him, including his lover, went down like dominoes.  
  
"And they all go down!"  
  
The voice was young, female and with just enough of an edge of insanity to it that for a horrible moment Dean feared that it was Lilith, back from the grave somehow. Then he realized that it couldn't be but the flicker of hesitation cost him as the little girl's eyes went white and she raised a hand even before he could bring his shotgun up and around. He was flung aside like some ragdoll, going head over heels before he seemed to hit something and then go  _through_  it. The pain was intense, like a thousand tiny knives stabbing at him all at once and he screamed. The unexpected agony scrambled his brain for a moment and then the wind was knocked out of him as he hit the floor, rolling a few times before he finally lay still, dazed.  
  
"Dean!"  
  
The voice and panic were both familiar, but it took Dean a moment to place them and then to try and respond. His whole body hurt and he wanted to do nothing more than to close his eyes and slip into unconsciousness but he knew that he couldn't afford to do so. Not only might he never wake up from that again (well, at least not  _alive_  anyway), but every instinct in him also pushed for him to respond to his lover.  
  
"Dean!" Castiel cried out again, sounding frantic.  
  
With every last bit of determination Dean had, he forced his arms to move, pushing against the uneven floor beneath him and he lifted his head.  
  
"Dean," Castiel said again, but far less frantic now that their eyes could meet.  
  
His lover had to be a good eighty feet away and Dean frowned, not understanding why Castiel didn't come to him, before he noticed the way his angel seemed to be leaning against an invisible barrier of some sort. Dread settled into the pit of his stomach as he realized what was going on even as he felt the swell of dark magic all around him once more.  
  
He'd gone  _through_  one of the anti-angel barriers, no wonder it had hurt like a son of a bitch. Given everything that had happened to him as of late, he was actually kind of surprised that he'd managed to penetrate it at all, extreme velocity or not.  
  
"Ring around the rosie, a pocket full of posies," the little demon girl's voice rose above the resumed melee. "Ashes, ashes, we all fall  _down_!"  
  
There was an ominous rumble and the stone beneath Dean shuddered and began to move. He lunged to his feet, all but throwing himself towards Castiel whose eyes had gone wide in fear. Dust rose in clouds along the edges of the corridor he was in and even before he'd covered half of the distance he knew that the floor beneath him was giving way.  
  
"Cas!" Dean called out, racing the last of the distance and mentally preparing himself for the intense pain of going through the anti-angel barrier once more only to hit it like it was an impenetrable wall.  
  
"Dean!" Castiel cried out in dismay before his lover tried to take his sword to the magic keeping them separated.  
  
It wasn't going to work, Dean already knew and he looked about frantically for a ledge on either side of the corridor, but there was nothing. The entire floor was at a thirty-degree downward angle already and he had to fight not to fall backwards into the black abyss that was opening up beneath him. He had a frantic thought of trying to leap across to where the floor remained intact and flat, but the distance was already far too wide for him to even have a hope of making it.  
  
"I don't suppose you got a spare set of wings that I could borrow, do you, Cas?" Dean asked, looking back at his lover, trying to swallow down his terror.  
  
"Dean."  
  
Castiel's voice was so small and helpless that Dean wanted to do nothing more than reach out and soothe his lover, but he knew that he couldn't, either physically or emotionally. For a moment his throat closed up and he couldn't get anything out, but as the floor kept dropping away beneath him and he was forced to reach down and try and find a hold to grasp onto with his hands while his boots lost their perches, he was able to force the most important words out.  
  
"I love you, Cas."  
  
"No! Dean, no, Dean," his angel was now trying to claw his way to him and there was blood on the invisible barrier.  
  
He opened his mouth to tell Castiel to stop, to turn his attention to the demons still behind his lover when the rock crumbled beneath his fingers and he went sliding down the floor, racing to the edge and the darkness below even as he sought frantically for something-  _anything!_ \- to grasp hold of but there was nothing and then he was over the edge, his momentum ripping him free of the fragile hold he'd managed to get on the end of what had been the floor.  
  
"Dean!"  
  


* * *

  
  
Castiel desperately reached out with his Grace towards his mate, but it was useless, the barrier was keeping him firmly in place and helpless as Dean vanished from view with a cry. Even their bond was currently being blocked by the dark magic all around him and he'd long since lost the ability to so much as sense his mate, even when Dean had been standing right beside him. Denial, loss and rage welled within him as he now wasn't even able to so much as detect whether his hunter was still alive or not and he whirled around with a cry, swinging his blade at the nearest demon that he could find.  
  
As he slowly became more aware of his surroundings once more, having been totally absorbed by his mate's plight, Castiel detected the almost manic laughter of the child demon whose words seemed to have precipitated Dean's fall. Fury came to life within him at this clear target and he began to force his way towards her, decimating any demon that dared to so much as try and stand in his way or which just happened to stumble within his reach. He could feel the concern of his brothers and sisters all around him but none of them managed to reach him but one who was much further away.  
  
" _Castiel, Brother, what happened?_ " Michael questioned. " _What is wrong?_ "  
  
The mere thought of telling his eldest brother about what had happened to his mate was too much and Castiel tried to ignore Michael's pleas for information as he cut a swathe of destruction towards the demon child. She'd noticed his approach by now, almost impossible not to, and was watching him with a perverse glee in her eyes.  
  
" _Castiel, please!_ " Michael insisted. " _Is it... has something happened to- to Dean?_ "  
  
The fragile way the question was asked with the almost desperate undercurrent, Michael all but begging him to deny it, made Castiel howl and he lunged forwards,  _needing_  a distraction. He got close, far closer than he had any reasonable expectation too, but then he was suddenly shoved aside. The force was far stronger than normal demon psychic energy but far weaker than the dark magic that had been used against him and his siblings earlier.  
  
She was toying with him, letting him think that he stood a chance when really she held all of the cards here.  
  
 _"Is it possible that this could be a trap or ruse of some sort? I mean, make it look like this is important so that we'd confront the demons here on a turf of Lucifer's choosing rich in dark magic and where he has all of the advantages?"_  
  
Dean's words came back to haunt him and Castiel saw red at the painful, painful memory so he did the only thing that he could; he tried again. Like the last time he was batted aside as if he were nothing rather than an archangel, infinitely more powerful than any demon could ever hope to be. At least under normal circumstances, but this was far from normal as his mate had so wisely seen just a few short hours ago. Had they been blinded by their own arrogance to think that this could go any other way? That they'd stood any hope at all of coming out of this with all of them alive and unscratched?  
  
No, that wasn't it. That wasn't it at all, Castiel reminded himself. They'd  _had_  to do this.  _Had_  to at least try and stop Lucifer from attaining that which he obviously wanted to desperately.  
  
"Pretty, pretty little angel," the demon child singsonged, smiling manically at him. "So much fun to play with, could do so all day long." Then she turned more morose, as if reminded of something unpleasant. "Could, but can't. Daddy wants a little gift and I have to go find it to give it to him. Pretty, shiny gift for Daddy or he will get very, very angry. So ta, ta little angel. Maybe we'll play again later."  
  
Castiel watched her go with a sense of disbelief, stunned that she was really just going to leave him here like this. It was the last thing that he'd expected from her after the glee he'd seen in her eyes upon witnessing his grief and causing him further pain.  
  
"Perhaps if I see your little pet down there I'll send you back a part of him as your very own pretty little present," she smiled at him, her golden curls bouncing gaily as she nodded. "Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh. Maybe an eye or a finger or- ooh, how about his heart?"  
  
The very thought of her laying a single finger on his mate, dead or alive, forced Castiel to his feet once more and he lunged at her only to hit yet another invisible barrier.  
  
"Na uh, bad little angel, very bad. Now maybe I won't send you a present, or perhaps just at the very end, so that you can see it before you die."  
  
With those words, she made a little, dismissive flick with her left hand and Castiel cried out in surprise as pain lanced through him. Instinctively he jerked back only to collide with another impenetrable barrier at his back. A quick exploration revealed that he was sealed into a small circular space, completely unable to get out as the dark magic crackled all around him, pulsing slowly in ever more powerful waves.


	126. Chapter 125

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean cried out as he fell into the dark abyss, not sure if he was suddenly going to hit the ground or just keep on falling.

**PAST**  
  
  
Dean cried out as he fell into the dark abyss, not sure if he was suddenly going to hit the ground or just keep on falling. The pitch black closed in all around him as the light from above vanished and he was no longer sure if he was falling feet first or head first. He reached out desperately for anything that could break his fall, half afraid that he'd get a hand caught on something only to have it ripped right off or to be smacked into the side of the seemingly endless pit he was in.  
  
Then, after an eternity and with a clatter that seemed deafeningly loud in the otherwise deathly silence, his shotgun caught on something and the next thing Dean knew he was jerked backwards by the shoulder harness he'd clipped it to. The suddenness of the break in momentum was breathtaking and he felt at least two of his ribs break and give way before he was sliding sideways, slipping out of the harness. With a cry of pain and terror, he desperately reached out and grabbed hold of the harness, all but praying that whatever his shotgun was caught on would hold and not give way beneath his weight.  
  
His ribs were screaming their protest, causing pain to lance through him, but Dean refused to let go of his grip on the harness. God only knew how much further down the ground was and he had absolutely no intention of finding out the hard way only to end up nothing more than a red smear across the rock below. Sheer force of will and the look on his lover's face just before he'd gone over the edge let him pull himself back up enough to sling his right arm through the harness, his heart in his throat every time the material groaned ominously. For once he cursed the constant workouts that kept him in shape as his muscle mass was seriously adding to his weight now in a way that he could ill afford even if it was what was allowing him to try and save himself at the same time. Now there was a catch twenty-two if he'd ever heard of one.  
  
As soon as he was sure that he wouldn't lose his grip, Dean dared to release the harness with his left hand and fumbled for the lighter that he always carried in his pocket. It took a bit of effort as it was in the wrong pocket for the hand he was using, but in the end he managed to get it, the ominous creaking of his shotgun harness spurring him on.  
  
The first thing that Dean saw when he turned on the lighter was a rock wall mere inches from his face. It sent a thrill of relief through him, both at no longer being completely surrounded by darkness but also at the fact that the rock wasn't so smooth as to be unscalable. True, it wasn't the best surface for climbing he'd ever seen, but he'd take it over nothing even if it would be hell on his broken ribs. Part of him didn't want to look up, to just focus on the task at hand, but he knew that he had to see how much time he had here, or rather how much time he might not have.  
  
A quick glance up showed Dean that his shotgun was unlikely to break free as it had lodged itself into an outcropping and lay behind a lip of rock. The harness, however, was a different matter altogether. The way it moved slightly back and forth over the rock, straining to hold his weight was likely to fray away at the material sooner rather than later and send him plunging on down to whatever lay below, so he couldn't just hang here either. Not that he'd really want to, but still the fact remained. A quick glance over his shoulder showed no hint of the other side of whatever shaft he'd fallen down and he swallowed thickly. It was like he'd fallen into space, looking that way with nothing but darkness even with a light.  
  
Dean had never been one to be claustrophobic, but it still sent a shiver down his spine and he quickly looked forward again, studying the rock face. He wasn't particularly thrilled about looking down next as he was a little afraid of being greeted by nothing more than inky blackness signalling another seemingly bottomless drop, but he knew that he really had to. After all, how stupid would he feel if he scaled part of the wall only to discover later that he was only a ten-foot drop off the ground?  
  
Not wanting to do that, Dean braced himself and had a quick look down. What he saw made him incredibly grateful for the outcropping as not only could he just, faintly, make out the ground below, but it was littered with all kinds of sharp looking boulders and smaller rocks. He'd definitely have died on impact if he'd still been going at full velocity. The image that conjured made him pull a face before he turned his attention back to the wall. Naturally, given his luck lately, there was nothing that looked promising directly below him. The outcropping on which his shotgun was wedged, though, extended further to the left and sloped downwards lightly leading to a crevice in which he might be able to get some foot and handholds that would allow him to start moving downwards.  
  
It was his best option and would allow him to retrieve his shotgun even if it meant that he'd have to go up before he could start to go down. Dean sighed, wishing he could just abandon the damn thing, but the odds were far too great that he'd need it again in order to get out of this hell hole. He snorted, his current surroundings gave a whole new meaning to that particular turn of phrase. And the best part of this whole situation? His light source was a damn lighter, which meant that if he didn't keep his finger on the depressor, it would go out and he couldn't climb and keep his lighter on, even if he weren't already injured. Muttering darkly about demons and their parentage, he planned his first set of moves before letting the lighter extinguish and putting it between his teeth.  
  
With his now free hand, Dean reached out towards the first handhold he'd decided upon before daring to relinquish his death grip on the shotgun harness. Secure enough for the moment, he brought his legs forward and scrabbled for purchase. Once that was achieved he looped the harness around his chest once more as a crude safety net (if a rib breaking one) and hoped to hell that he wouldn't have to use it again. He then braced himself and reached upwards, drawing in a sharp breath as pain flared in his side. Maybe it wasn't totally bad that he couldn't see a damn thing as now at least he wouldn't have to deal with dark spots dancing before his eyes.  
  
The pain when he let go with his good hand was excruciating and Dean forced himself to remember that he'd dealt with far, far,  _far_  worse before and survived. The memories of Hell were, for once, helpful and allowed him to work his way up to the outcropping on which his shotgun lay, wedged in among the sharp rocks. In addition to having been, quite literally, lifesaving, the outcropping proved to be a blessing for his ribs as he was able to stretch out on it- albeit awkwardly and uncomfortably- and rest his screaming ribs while he worked his harness and shotgun free.  
  
A close inspection of the harness had Dean wincing before he shut down thoughts of how close it had been. It hadn't happened and so it didn't bear thinking about, it was as simple as that, period. Wanting to make the most of the little break that he had before he had to start the climb down, he let the lighter go out and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to get an accurate assessment of his body's condition in addition to the broken ribs that he already knew more than enough about. There were bruises coming up from where he'd hit the anti-angel barrier and landed on the floor before it had started to give way. Bruises he could deal with though he was silently thankful that Castiel had been taking care of his earlier ones whenever his angel'd had a chance to do so during the battle even if he'd protested it at the time.  
  
Crap, thoughts of his lover allowed everything that Dean had been doing his best to avoid thinking about come flooding in. God, he  _really_  didn't want to think about what Castiel was going through right now, not after the way his angel had looked and sounded like  _before_  he'd fallen. He never, ever, wanted to hear his lover sound like that again.  _Ever_. And he'd do everything in his power to prevent a recurrence if at all possible, even if it meant being more careful when he'd rather just get things done. Castiel deserved that. Just like his lover deserved to be put out of his misery as soon as possible too.  
  
The thought had Dean raising his lighter and starting to flick it before a whisper of noise made him freeze. With the angel barrier, odds were that whatever had made the sound wasn't a friend, so he kept as quiet as possible as he strained for any indication of what had caused the noise in the first place. For a moment there was nothing and then suddenly there were the sounds of several people moving around down below, newly arrived demons most likely. Then there was light and he did his best to shrink out of sight by flattening himself against the outcropping and the rock wall.  
  
"You two, see if you can find what's left of him."  
  
It was the demon child from before and Dean had the unpleasant realization that she was probably talking about him. But why would she care about what happened to him? Whatever it was, he desperately hoped that it wasn't anything too special or urgent as higher ground or not, he was still in deep shit if it was and she persisted in searching for him until she found him.  
  
"I promised the pretty little angel that I'd send him a piece of his precious little human pet."  
  
The words chilled Dean to his core, horror rising within him as he realized what just  _had_  to be going through his lover's head right at this very moment. It also made him fear for Castiel's current condition as there was absolutely no way that his angel would have let the demon girl go easily after her making that kind of threat against him. Absolutely no fucking way, which meant that something must have happened to his lover even if it wasn't so bad that Castiel wouldn't be able to receive the twisted gift that she wished to send him. Irrationally he petted the stone beneath his hand, now having yet another reason to be grateful for it. He didn't even want to contemplate what his angel would have done if the demon had been able to do as she'd wanted to.  
  
"And I would so hate to disappoint him."  
  
Her laughter was insane, all dark and twisted, and Dean didn't even want to know how on Earth she managed to make that sound given the young vocal chords she currently possessed.  
  
"The rest of you, come with me. We need to go find Daddy's shiny, little present."  
  
The similarities between her and Lilith as she'd been in a little girl's body were striking and made Dean feel more than a bit sick. What was it with certain demons and little kids? Knowing an adult was possessed was bad enough, but a child? It was almost too horrible to contemplate and he really wished that he didn't ever have any opportunities to do so, much less so damn often. And the worst thing was that, since he'd already determined that he'd kill her for what she'd put his lover through, that he would probably be the one who would now have to kill that poor little girl. Yeah, he knew that it would be nothing short of a blessing for her if the poor girl was still alive, but that didn't make it much better for him. If at all possible he'd try to save her instead, but it wasn't often that a demon gave him a chance to do so these days.  
  
The sounds of several people moving off did fill Dean with relief on some level. From the demon girl's words, he knew that they had yet to find the artifact that they'd come here to get and so long as that was the case, then he still had a chance to thwart their efforts. It meant that he still had a chance to make all of this pain and misery worth it. Well, if he could elude discovery, then somehow find the energy to scale the wall down and then follow her posse. Not to mention anything about then somehow taking out what had sounded like seven or eight demons.  
  
So, a piece of cake. No problem at all.  
  
Why couldn't things ever be easy? Was that really too much to ask for?  
  
"I don't see anything here, do you?"  
  
This voice was male, adult thankfully, and bored sounding, a definite good thing in Dean's opinion. A bored demon was a careless demon and a careless demon was exactly what he wanted just now.  _Exactly_  what he wanted.  
  
"No, but he must be down here somewhere," the second voice was also male, but younger sounding, a teenager perhaps? "Right?"  
  
A nasty laugh. "Not at all. He could have panicked and twisted himself into the wall on his way down, resulting in nothing more than a red smear on the rock somewhere up there."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Or perhaps he got his brains splattered out on some ledge or rock carving, like those crazy ones lining the corridors above."  
  
Dean gagged at the graphic images those words conjured, unable to help but wonder if that wasn't exactly what Castiel was picturing even right this very moment.  
  
"True. So what do we do?"  
  
"We join the others and tell her it was done."  
  
"Won't she know?"  
  
"How could she? Besides it's not like she'll ever see that particular angel again."  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"What, you want to continue searching out here while they're finding the chalice? You heard what father said, he'll reward whoever manages to find it and bring it to him."  
  
"Like you could do that with her present."  
  
"Maybe she'll be looking in the wrong place."  
  
A pause. "You think that's possible?"  
  
"She doesn't have any more clue where it is than we do."  
  
"Let's go."  
  
Despite the retreat of the echoing footsteps, telling Dean that the two demons really had given up on their assignment, the light remained, flickering against the rock and casting shifting shadows onto the wall next to him. He waited five more minutes to be absolutely sure that he really was alone before slowly raising himself up onto an elbow so that he could see over the rim of the outcropping. There was a torch burning next to what appeared to be a passageway far down below him and he tried to decide if it was a blessing or a curse. Yes, it was true that the light it provided would allow him to make the climb down far faster and easier than if it weren't there, but it would also leave him completely exposed if any of the demons returned or others arrived. Not that there was much he could do about it either way, so he might as well make the most of it and hope that no one came back or arrived.  
  
Decision made, Dean painfully pulled himself further upright and then hugged the rock as he followed the outcropping as far as he could, his water gun and shotgun at his back. At the end of the outcropping things got more difficult, but he persevered and slowly- painfully- started the real climb down, thinking of Castiel and the chalice the whole way. Those two things allowed him to focus and ignore the pain as much as possible. Besides, as soon as he managed to get back to his lover the pain would be gone, healed just as soon as his angel realized that he was injured.  
  
All he needed to do was find a way back to Castiel.  
  
He snorted at the thought. That was definitely easier said than done, but Dean had learned long ago to come up with clear, concise goals when seriously injured as it made it easier to focus on attaining them instead of letting the pain get to him instead. So, goal number one, get to the bottom of this freaking shaft safely. Goal number two was to get this chalice from the demons. And goal number three was to get back to the angels. His lover was the most preferable, but any of the angels he'd been with would do as they'd be able to zap him to Castiel or at the very least be able to contact his lover and let Castiel know that he was alright. And they'd be able to heal him as well, at which point he'd be able to get back to kicking some serious demonic ass.  
  
Now he just had to follow through on those goals.  
  
See, no problem at all.  
  
Really.


	127. Chapter 126

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The demons and Dean find the chamber and the chalice.

**PAST**  
  
  
Dean used the fork in the passageway as a totally valid reason to stop and take a quick rest. He was a little shorter of breath than he'd like to be, but he figured that he had a perfectly good reason for that so he tried to ignore it as much as possible other than making a mental note of how it might affect his reaction time should he need to move quickly or suddenly. It had taken him far longer than he'd liked to climb down the wall and he was more than a little worried that the demons would find their chalice (or whatever it was) and be gone before he could get there. Hence the reason that he'd been pushing himself but he could now make out faint sounds coming from the right branch in the fork which he took as a good sign.  
  
Since the right passage was also the one that was lit, Dean was in no doubt that it was the one that he wanted, but he did note that the left passage sloped upwards quite noticeably. Short of trying to scale the abyss he'd fallen down, it was the best indicator that he'd seen yet of a way out of here, so he knew that he'd be back this way to try it. And the very best thing about it? It would be behind him so he wouldn't have to fight his way through a horde of demons to reach it. He'd just have to watch his back and ensure that no one got between him and it.  
  
He took as deep a breath as he could with his broken ribs and checked his shotgun once more before moving on, deeper into the underground labyrinth so much of Teotihuacan was turning out to be. All things considered, Dean would much rather use his water gun now than the shotgun, but he just didn't think that it would be a good idea. While it was true that the water gun would be both quieter and easier on his ribs, he didn't have a ton of Holy water left and it just didn't make the same kind of impact that a salt round to the chest did, and he of all people should know that one after all. So, given his already injured state and the fact that he was so vastly outnumbered, he'd have to take down the demons as hard and as fast as he possibly could if he were to have any hope of getting the chalice, let alone of surviving this.  
  
That was something else that Dean was trying his hardest not to think too much about; just how heavily he was outnumbered here.  _By demons_. Sure, he'd gotten far better at dealing with them but it really wasn't more than a few short years ago that even facing  _one_  demon had seemed an almost insurmountable task, and that for two experienced hunters. There just hadn't been all that many of them about whereas now they were practically popping up all over the damn place, like some kind of household pest that you simply couldn't get rid of. He had to bite back a laugh at the idea, knowing only all too well just how certain demons would react to  _that_  particular comparison, but it was oh so very true nonetheless.  
  
A sharp increase in the noise level made Dean stop and listen for a moment, making sure that no one was doubling back and coming his way. When he was sure that they weren't, he started creeping forwards once more, taking care to skirt the loose rock on the ground. He'd always been able to move surprisingly quietly for someone of his size and he put all of that skill to good use now. The passage curved to the right slightly so he was able to approach slowly and check the way before exposing himself to any potential threats.  
  
When the passageway straightened out again, Dean could see light spilling out of what appeared to be a chamber just off of the corridor. There was absolutely nothing along the walls to indicated that this stretch was anything more than regular passageway, so he wondered if the entrance to this chamber had been hidden until the demon girl and her posse had arrived and opened it somehow. It would fit with what Castiel had said Michael had experienced. A hidden chamber with ancient artefacts and all kinds of other treasures. If Teotihuacan had any kind of curators, they were sure to have a heart attack in the near future at this rate. Not only would they discover that large sections of the underground city had been severely damaged, but they'd also find hundreds of invaluable objects sure to keep them in academic Heaven for decades to come. He nearly laughed at the image of some stuffy middle-aged guys ignoring women and booze for a new rock of some kind.  
  
Slowly, carefully, Dean approached the chamber door, hugging the passageway wall the entire way in order to provide him with the maximum cover possible given the situation. From the sounds of things, the demons were far too busy scavenging the treasures to find their precious chalice to pay the corridor any head, but it wouldn't do to be stupid and careless now of all times. At the door, he crouched down before risking a peek into the chamber itself. All of his childhood fantasies of what might lie within a hidden chamber in ancient ruins seemed to be coming true as the room was chalk full of glittering and gleaming treasures of all kinds. The flickering torchlight accentuated those objects to the extent that it took him a few seconds to realize that there were other, less shiny artefacts in the room as well. Those appeared to be tablets covered in little kids' drawings or various tools of unknown origins and he had no clue why they'd be in the chamber, but then he was no expert on Teotihuacanians, so who was he to judge if those weren't the most valuable things in the chamber?  
  
Dean had gotten so used to the walls here being covered in all kinds of funky and weird shit that it took him a moment figure out what had caught his attention on the far wall of the chamber. There, among the paintings and carvings that he'd spotted elsewhere, was a sigil that he knew only all too well. A banishing sigil. No, an  _angelic_  banishing sigil. He drew in a deep, sharp breath at the sight, eyes widening as his mind raced to process it. The sigil fit in far too well with the rest of the drawings and carvings for it to be new, no, it had been deliberately worked into the decorations of this chamber when it had been made. Well, either that or things had been expertly altered by someone who'd had far more time to do so than the demons had. Besides, he didn't even think that he'd ever come across a demon that had been aware of this particular banishing sigil.  
  
So all of that meant that the banishing sigil had been here before the demons had arrived.  
  
This revelation put a completely new spin on everything else. Dean had just assumed that the demons had been manipulating the wealth of dark magic saturating Teotihuacan to their advantage during the earlier fighting, but what if it was more than that? What if there had already been various anti-angel spells and traps in place? Surely it made sense that where there was one such measure that there would be more. The question was why?  _Why_ was there a banishing sigil in this chamber and barriers specifically designed to keep angels out (and in) up above? It just didn't make any sense whatsoever.  
  
Much as Dean wanted to ponder this new discovery until he knew exactly what it meant, he knew that he just couldn't afford to do so right now. He was working on borrowed time as it was and at any second now one of the demons might look back and spot him. The problem was that the demons were all spread out. The chamber was by no means small and this meant that there was absolutely no way that he could attack so as to get them all. He'd be able to get a few, sure, but the others would be on him before he had a hope of doing anything to either stop or even slow them down first. Not to mention the fact that he didn't have a clue where in this mess the chalice in question was. Sure, he could see a few goblet shaped items but given that they were being ignored despite being in plain sight meant that they were probably not the chalice in question.  
  
Silently, Dean cursed, wishing that he had at least some clue as to what chalice they were looking for and why. What on Earth would Lucifer want with a chalice anyway? Nothing good, that was for sure, but beyond that he had absolutely nothing. Zip, zilch, nada. Which was just freaking perfect and totally figured.  
  
In order to give himself some more time to think, Dean pulled back out of sight and closed his eyes. There had to be something that he could do. Was there any way that he could create a diversion of some kind? Draw all of their attention away from him so that he could sneak in and grab the chalice once they'd done the work for him and found it? It was a good idea in principle, but he just couldn't come up with anything suitable. All that he had on him were the shotgun, water gun and demon-killing knife, all of which were great for close range combat but not particularly good as far as distractions went. Nor could he think of anything that might work given the very limited resources available around him.  
  
The sound of cursing drew his attention and when Dean glanced into the chamber once more it was to see that things had shifted slightly. One of the demons must have moved the wrong item as a mini avalanche of sorts had occurred towards the far left end of the room, exposing a variety of new artefacts that had previously been hidden. The moment that his eyes landed on the chalice he  _knew_  that it was the one in question. Not only did it not fit in with the other items in the room, but it glowed faintly like some of the books from Heaven's library had done that his archangels had brought him to read.  
  
Which meant that the chalice was a Heavenly artefact.  
  
Apparently he wasn't the only one that could tell the chalice was different as in the next moment several of the demons were scrabbling forward, each seeking to grab it. Dean had to check a similar urge and in the process noticed the demon girl's eyes widening and then she vanished. Before he could ponder what the hell was up with that, the first demon had reached the chalice and snatched it up in his greedy little hands. There was an agonizing scream and then a flash of light so intense that he was forced to close his eyes with a startled grunt. Even with his eyes closed, everything lit up like he was looking directly into the sun before the light vanished. Carefully he opened his eyes once more, blinking away sunspots to find the demons gone, nothing but black scorch marks on the ground where they'd been standing to signify that they'd even been there.  
  
Dumbly, Dean stared at them for a few seconds before he realized that the chalice must be far too Holy for a demon to touch and in doing so, the demon had triggered some kind of backlash that had wiped both him and the others out. Well, it definitely simplified things for him nicely. He'd just set foot into the chamber when the demon girl was back, blinking into existence right beside the chalice. It took her a moment to realize that he was there, but when she did she turned to him, her hand raising. Not giving her a chance to use her powers on him, he fired his shotgun, blasting her full of rock salt and sending her crashing into the wall behind her. She cried out, but quickly staggered back to her feet, not nearly as badly affected as he'd hoped. He cursed,  _of course_  she'd have to be one of the stronger demons. In a last, desperate attempt he lunged forwards hoping to get to the chalice.  
  
It was useless.  
  
Although wounded, the demon child was obviously still well enough to zap herself next to the chalice which she scooped up into a bag she pulled from a pocket.  
  
"I will see you again, little human," she promised, carefully holding the bag as far from herself as possible. "And then you and your little angel will pay for this."  
  
And with that she was gone even before Dean had covered half the distance to his goal. "No!" he cried out.  
  
He's been so close.  _So_  close and yet it hadn't been enough. Dean kicked the nearest artefact in frustration, sending it flying across the room to smash into the far wall. The wall bearing the banishing sigil. For a moment he could only stare at it, able to see that it was done in dried blood now that he was closer to it.  
  
A banishing sigil, anti-angel barriers and a chalice that glowed with the light of Heaven.  
  
Dread settled into the pit of Dean's stomach the more that he thought about it. Someone had gone to great lengths to hide one of Heaven's artefacts here and to ensure that no angel could get their hands on it again and Lucifer had just successfully had his demons steal it for him. And what had they done? They'd brought an entire garrison of angels and two of Heaven's dwindling number of archangels right into the middle of it all.  
  
"Cas! Mike!" Dean cried out and he spun around and ran as fast as he could back to the left fork and, hopefully, to his lover.


	128. Chapter 127

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Samuel decides that he needs to know more about his grandsons.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
For a moment, Samuel just sat in his car looking through the windscreen at the newfangled bookstore he was parked at. Well, newfangled to him at least, for everyone else it was just as much the norm as the smaller bookstores that he'd used to frequent before his death.  
  
Samuel wasn't sure if he should be disquieted by how easily he thought of that these days. His death. Despite the fact that he and the others were still no closer to discovering exactly how and why both Sam and himself had been resurrected, he had somehow become used to the fact that he had been dead for nearly four decades. It wasn't that he'd gotten  _over_  his death per se, or that of everyone he'd loved and cared for, but rather that he'd come to accept the fact that it had happened to him. His precious Deanna and Mary were another story altogether and he tried not to think about their fates too often as the pain of doing so was damn near crippling. Besides, he didn't really feel that he had anyone with whom he could share that pain with.  
  
Much as Samuel loved Sam, it hadn't taken him long to realize that he couldn't speak with this particular grandson about his beloved daughter. Not only had Sam never actually known Mary and therefore had absolutely no memories of her except for those that he'd gotten from Dean, but the boy had watched her death tear his father apart and was loath to be anywhere near him whenever he'd mentioned Mary's name. It had taken him a while to realize exactly why and he couldn't help but wonder sometimes if his near-obsessive need to find Dean wasn't at least partially caused by the knowledge that he knew for certain that his firstborn grandson did in fact remember his mother. He had to admit that the thought of speaking with someone else who remembered Mary and mourned her passing was damn near irresistible. It would make it easier in a way, to know that she hadn't simply vanished but had left some intangible footprints behind in addition to the two very tangible sons she'd had.  
  
The biggest irony of the whole issue was that while Sam's reaction should have given him even more cause to dislike John Winchester than he'd ever had, Samuel couldn't help but find that exactly the opposite was true. Although his grandson had spoken of John with nothing but scorn most of the time, he'd found that hearing about how his sweet Mary's death had all but driven Winchester insane with bloodlust caused him to actually start liking the guy. At least there was someone who had clearly loved his little girl and been damned if he'd let her death go unpunished. Perhaps Mary hadn't made as bad of a choice as he'd always feared that she had. That had allowed him to start thinking about other things more clearly and he'd been forced to admit that John Winchester must have made a damned good hunter once he'd discovered the truth about the supernatural as he'd trained two- what was the current term? oh, right- kickass hunters. The sheer number of demons that his grandsons had dealt with, not to mention actually  _killed_  (something he'd always been told was impossible), was nothing short of staggering.  
  
And to think that demons were once considered almost mythical, given how infrequently even hunters encountered them!  
  
It was just one in a long list of things that had changed since his death. A very,  _very_  long list of things. Samuel snorted as he thought of the computers, internet, cellphones and shitload of other technological gadgets that he'd been introduced to since his resurrection. It was all mindboggling and more than once he'd wondered if he hadn't simply been transported straight into some science fiction movie. Strangers things had been known to happen, after all, so it wasn't entirely outside the realm of possibilities no matter how bizarre the mere notion sounded. It shouldn't have been any more insane than the thought of an honest to God resurrection and yet here he was, alive and physically well nearly forty years after some demon had shoved a blade into his gut and killed him right in front of Mary's time-travelling firstborn.  
  
The memory of his death still had the power to make Samuel shudder. Whoever had said that you'd not remember your death afterwards was so horribly wrong that it wasn't even funny. If anything he could remember those last few moments with stunning and unbelievable clarity and he knew that he'd never be able to forget any of it no matter how long he managed to live this time around. Not the slick, dirty feel of the demon inside of him; nor the sweet, agonizing slide of cold steel into his body; nor the furious and helpless look on Dean's face. Dean who in so many ways looked so much like his mother that it was almost painful. In retrospect he just couldn't understand how it was that he hadn't recognized the boy as family the instant that he'd first laid eyes on him. It was all there, plain as day for anyone to see. For all that he'd known about the supernatural and what lurked out there in the shadows and the dark, he'd still been almost painfully naive in so many ways.  
  
That was another reason why Samuel felt it so critically important for them to have Dean with them now. He'd been caught off-guard once before by his lack of knowledge as to the full extent of just what was out there and it had led to his death. He didn't want that to happen for a second time or to lead to anyone else's death either and he figured that the angels would know far better than any of them just what was what now that the normal rules seemed to have been thrown out of the window. They just couldn't afford not to know all of that, not when a lack of knowledge had already led to Mark's death.  
  
If Samuel closed his eyes he could still remember the sound of Gwen's voice when she'd called to tell him what had happened. They'd been on a hunt- herself, Mark and Christian- when things had gone to hell in a handbasket. They'd been chasing something that had cut a bloody swath through the South, tearing it's victims apart and leaving bits and pieces of them all over the place. Unfortunately they'd put the evidence together wrong and hadn't been prepared for the creatures to be a three-strong pack of werewolves, the lack of lunar pattern throwing them off. In fact the night that Mark had died there had been only the tiniest sliver of the new moon visible. His hands clenched around the wheel at the thought of just how much things had changed.  
  
The fact that so many centuries of painstakingly collected and recorded lore were now slowly becoming useless was part of the reason why Samuel had not really ventured out to many bookstores yet. If all of the Campbell family journals were of little use, then what were the chances of him finding something helpful in newer source material? Even in the past it had always been a longshot, but one that he'd pursued from time to time when he the opportunity to do so, as it had panned out on occasion and he hadn't wanted to miss something just because he was being old and stubborn. Getting too set in one's ways was a sure death sentence for a hunter.  
  
Which was exactly why Samuel was here now, he was trying to break out of his set ways and accept something new. Something unorthodox, even for him and for hunters in general. But hey, if it worked then who was he to question it? Normally that would have been enough for him to get over his hang-ups, get his ass in gear and get out of the car to do whatever needed to be done.  
  
Normally.  
  
Samuel sighed and rubbed a hand over his face before he looked at the bookstore once more. Barnes & Noble. It definitely looked big enough to carry that which he was looking for. Hell, it was by far the biggest bookstore that he'd ever laid eyes on and they didn't seem to mind customers sampling the merchandise given how many people he could see sitting about, reading books that they hadn't yet paid for. Nor did they seem to mind people eating and drinking around the books either, something most of the bookstore owners he'd known in his day would have unapologetically yelled at him for. So, newfangled but probably exactly what he needed at the moment. Yet, despite that, he still found himself sitting in the car instead of getting up and getting on with what he needed to do.  
  
The fact of the matter was that as much as Samuel knew what he needed to do, he was also more than a little afraid of what he was going to learn. Just the memory of his meeting with Becky Rosen was enough to make him shudder once more. The way that woman had so shamelessly spoken about, no, not spoken about,  _idolized_ , Dean's relationship with the angel Castiel and all of the details that she'd revealed thereof were things that he'd much rather shove safely away into a dark corner of his mind to be completely forgotten about. It was a fear of learning even more about that particular relationship, details and facts that he was much better of never knowing about, that prevented him from acting now.  
  
Yes, he wanted to know more about his grandson, both of them actually given everything that he'd learned about Sam as of late and how,  _selective_ , Mary's youngest had been about what he'd shared with them. It was why Samuel was here now and yet he was afraid at the same time. But surely the books couldn't be all that bad, right? They'd passed through the publishing process, after all, that had to have ensured that they weren't too explicit. Right?  
  
Just a quick look towards a group of young girls and the scandalous clothing that they wore was enough to send Samuel's feeble hopes plummeting. Clearly what was acceptable and what was not had radically changed in just a few short decades and it left him in a near constant state of dread when it came to certain aspects of modern life and just what he might witness the next time he went out in public. All of which meant that he had absolutely no idea just what Chuck Shurley may or may not have been able to put into his books about Sam and Dean. And given what he'd heard both Sam and Bobby say about Dean's former propensity to find a girl wherever he went that worried him more than a little, even without the prospect of reading about angels doing things that he'd always been taught they'd never, ever, do.  
  
"Samuel Campbell, you are not a coward," Samuel muttered to himself. "Now get out of this damn car and do what you need to do."  
  
The trick worked, forcing him into action and Samuel locked the car before striding determinedly towards the bookstore entrance. After all, it wasn't like he'd be forced to read anything that he didn't want to. If the books were too explicit for a grandfather to take, then he'd just be able to skip those parts and dedicate his attention to the stuff that really mattered. Like anything pertaining to the man that his grandson was or how it was that Dean had come to be in the past the first time that they'd met. That he would also be looking for anything and everything relating to the Apocalypse went without saying.  
  
The soft music playing when he entered the store distracted Samuel for a moment and he muttered again about newfangled places. What had been wrong with the bookstores that he remembered? Then he realized just how large the store actually was and he was left floundering for a moment. He was sure that he'd be able to find what he wanted on his own given enough time, but he caught sight of the helpdesk with a sense of relief. After all, why make things any harder for himself than necessary? Besides, they had computers at that desk and he knew that they had to make things easier, or at least Sam definitely seemed to think so, no matter what they might be dealing with.  
  
"Hello, how can I help you?" the girl was young, hardly more than a teenager unless he very much missed his guess.  
  
"Hello, I'm looking to buy some books for my granddaughter," Samuel said, using the story he'd already made up to explain away his interest in what he assumed would be very much not his usual type of book. "She's recently found a series that she actually likes and I'd like to encourage her to continue reading."  
  
"Of course, what's the series called?"  
  
"Uh, I don't actually know, she hasn't mentioned a series name."  
  
"I see. Well, do you know anything about it? The author perhaps?"  
  
"No," Samuel replied, knowing Sam had said something about a pseudonym but he hadn't dared ask least his grandson got suspicious. "She said they were quite popular, though. It's a fantasy series about two brothers fighting all kinds of supernatural creatures or something like that. She also mentioned angels."  
  
"Oh, of course,  _Supernatural_."  
  
"Yes, I said it was about the supernatural."  
  
"No, you misunderstand me. The books are called  _Supernatural_ , it's the name of the series."  
  
"Ah, I see."  
  
"That's probably why you didn't realize that you knew the name of the series. Now, unfortunately we don't have any more copies of the last set of books in the series. We're all sold out, I'm afraid, and are still waiting for the next delivery to get here."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yes, I'm sorry. The guy in charge of ordering books in didn't realize how popular they'd be and therefore didn't get us enough copies," she smiled apologetically. "Why he was so wrong I don't know as he should have known that anything pertaining to angels and demons was bound to do well, especially when you start mixing in prophecies and the Apocalypse as well."  
  
"Indeed, it's a pity that you don't have the latest ones, but you've got the others, right, the earlier ones?"  
  
"Yes," she tapped something into her computer. "Yep, here it is,  _Supernatural_  by Carver Edlund. Now let's see, ah here we are. It looks like we've got books one through to a hundred and four."  
  
"A hundred and four?"  
  
"Yep, that's  _Supernatural_  straight through to  _Swan Song_."  
  
"And you're missing some?"  
  
"Numbers one hundred and five,  _Unexpected Destinies_ , through to one hundred and fifteen,  _The Rite of Contressa_."  
  
"Eleven books? You're that many short?"  
  
The girl shrugged. "What can I say? We've been a little late getting on the bandwagon with this particular series. It has been published for ages but we've only just recently started stocking it after it started making a real splash. It was just considered a cult thing before but it's really taken off with the whole Apocalypse storyline and Edlund's been putting out books like mad ever since that point. My guess is that he kept on writing after his original publisher went under."  
  
"I see," Samuel replied, opening his wallet to make sure that he had the card with him that he needed. "Well I'll take one copy of every book that you do have."  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"I'll have one of each of them."  
  
"You want the whole series? All one hundred and four books?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Samuel knew that he wasn't being at all subtle about this and normally he'd try to avoid drawing as much attention to himself as this was sure to do, but he just didn't have the patience required to go from store to store, buying just a few books at each place. For one it would take far too long and besides, this was his  _family_  they were talking about here.  
  
"But... that'll be several hundred dollars!" the girl sputtered.  
  
"I realize that, but what can I say? My granddaughter's never really read much before and I want to encourage this habit."  
  
It was a poor excuse and Samuel knew it, but it was the best that he could come up with on the spot. When Sam and Bobby had said that Shurley had published some books on the boys, he'd never thought that they meant this many of them so he'd not thought that he needed a better cover story. Not that it would be a problem as they'd be out of town by tomorrow, heading back to their home base to regroup and give Mark the hunter's burial that he so rightly deserved. And it wasn't like money was an issue either as he had a number of accounts that had done nothing but sit around and earn interest for nearly forty years. Yes, Mary had cleared out a few of them (which he had no problems with as she'd been left with precious little) and some of the rest of the family had done the same with some of the other accounts, but there had been a few that none of them had known about and therefore he had more than enough money to not have to worry about it for the rest of his life.  
  
"I- I'm going to have to call my manager over to approve this transaction," the girl stated.  
  
"That's okay, but could you please get someone to start packing the books? I'd like to get going as soon as possible."  
  
"Yeah, sure."  
  
It was odd, while on a hunt Samuel was a picture of patience and could outwait practically any creature that he'd ever come across. Now, though, he felt like a kid in a candy store, hardly able to contain his rising excitement at being this close to his goal. Between Sam's reluctance to talk about his brother and everything that had been going on lately, he still knew precious little about Dean and he was anxious to learn more about Mary's firstborn. To be this close to that particular goal, well it was hard to have to wait any longer.  
  
It was a good thing that he didn't need to sleep all that much anymore as Samuel knew that he'd not be getting much in the near future. Not with a hundred and four books to read.


	129. Chapter 128

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean makes his way back towards Castiel and the angels.

**PAST**  
  
  
Dean's lungs were burning and it was becoming harder and harder to breathe properly.  
  
Despite that, Dean pushed himself onwards. Ever since his fall a while back on some loose rocks, he'd started to get a sticky wet feeling deep within him and he was more than a little afraid that one of his broken ribs might have scratched or punctured one of his lungs. Which left him caught between a rock and hard place. On the one hand pushing himself relentlessly forwards and onwards would only aggravate his injury, but on the other hand to not do so might well mean that he would never reach the angels in time to be healed. So onwards and upwards he went, letting his fear for his lover and friend push him on.  
  
It felt like he'd been climbing forever, but Dean was determined not to let that discourage him. Instead he focused on the fact that the passageway was still there and hadn't turned out to be a dead-end. And not only that, but it continued to slope steadily upwards, taking him in precisely the direction that he wanted to go. Inevitably, though, his thoughts began to wander and he couldn't help but wonder just how much further he had to climb. Exactly how far had he fallen down the abyss? It was a memory that already was horrible enough to make him shudder and he had the nasty suspicion that he'd never quite be able to enjoy the 'falling' sensation of roller coasters ever again. Not if they triggered thoughts of that particular fall.  
  
Suddenly Dean became aware of noise coming from up ahead. It took him a moment to ascertain that it was actually the sounds of a battle and not just his ears playing tricks on him, but when he did it gave him an extra burst of energy. If he could hear them, then he just had to be close, even if it all sounded strangely muted.  
  
"Nearly there, Cas, Mike," Dean said, on the off chance that either of his archangels could hear him.  
  
He doubted it with all of the anti-angelic mojo floating about here, but Dean was damned if he wouldn't at the very least try. After all, Castiel had still been able to speak with Michael and Raphael before even if they were physically cut off from each other, so there was a slim chance and he'd take it if that meant reassuring the both of them. The words cost him though and he coughed, not looking down when something sticky and warm spattered onto the hand he'd automatically raised in front of his mouth. The coppery smell was all he needed to know to confirm his fears, not that it changed anything. He was still stuck in the same catch twenty-two as before and the only way out was to keep going so that he could get to someone who could heal him since they couldn't come to him.  
  
Although the slope in the floor was lessening, Dean was surprised to find that the sounds of battle weren't getting any clearer. Louder, yes, most definitely, but not any clearer. It made him frown as he tried to figure it out but he couldn't. Then he turned a corner in the passageway (slowly just in case it brought him into the middle of a group of demons) to find a flat stretch of corridor ahead of him. The clashing of blades and the cries of battle were almost loud enough to be right beside him but they were all still strangely muffled, as if obscured somehow.  
  
Dean slowed as he tried to figure it out and then realized that the sounds were slightly louder to his left. It was hard to tell as noise reflected off the walls of the passageway making it seem like it came from all around him, but a quick step closer to the wall confirmed his thoughts. The fighting was taking place on the other side of the wall and he was in some kind of hidden corridor. It made sense now that he thought about it. The chamber down below had obviously been constructed to hold great treasure and it fell to reason that the Teotihuacans (or whoever the hell they were anyway) would have concealed the passageways leading down to it. Which, of course, left him with a problem.  
  
Just how on Earth was he going to get out of here?  
  
The thought of following the corridor to its end held little appeal for Dean as he knew that it would dead-end somewhere with some kind of ancient mechanism that he'd need to figure out in order to open a doorway of some sort. And who knew how much further along that would be? He'd seen enough of the ancient city to know that the place was a veritable maze of corridors and passageways, even of the non-hidden variety! No way did he want to waste time navigating those, not in his current condition and not with his lover potentially fighting for his very life in the room next to him now. Castiel should not have to do that, shouldn't have to be in that kind of situation at all. His angel was supposed to be an immortal being that would live forever.  
  
The thought of losing Castiel made Dean begin to feel his way along the wall, trying desperately to find any kind of hidden mechanism that might allow him to open a door right here. Instead of finding what he sought, his fingers stumbled across a series of holes in the wall. Upon closer inspection he discovered that they were actually peepholes of a sort, allowing him to look into the room beyond the stone wall. His view was severely restricted, but he was able to make out angels clashing with demons. There didn't seem to be nearly as many of the latter as before and he wondered if that was due to the fact that some had fled with the demon child or whether the angels had simply decimated the demon numbers. He could only assume that not all of the demons had fled as they saw this as an opportunity to gain an upper hand on their angelic rivals. Well, either that or the demon child hadn't bothered to inform them that she'd accomplished their mission, which was entirely possible as well. It wasn't like demons cared anymore about their own kind than they did about humans.  
  
It was when a demon crashed into the wall right where he was looking that Dean realized the opportunity that he had here. Yes, he was still separated from the fighting itself, but he wasn't totally removed from it anymore. Not with his newest weapon. He smiled as he grabbed hold of his water gun and lined it up with a hole at chest height while he used one of the holes above it to catch a glimpse of the fighting. The moment he spotted a demon that he thought might be close enough, he fired, sending a thin jet of Holy water spouting out the other side. His first burst was off, just missing his target but the demon didn't notice his failed attempt so he corrected his aim and tried again. The startled scream told him that he'd found his target this time so he gave the demon a face full when it turned around to see where the unexpected attack had come from.  
  
One of the nearby angels made use of the opportunity to spear the demon with her blade. Dean smiled wolfishly as she glanced curiously at the wall but he resisted the temptation to fire once more just to show her where he was. He didn't have nearly enough Holy water left to waste it needlessly. Besides, she was a warrior and would quickly figure it out for herself. This was proven when she seemed to deliberately throw her next opponent towards the wall and he made use of the opportunity provided to give that demon the same treatment as the first.   
  
"Come on, give me more," Dean muttered as the angel threw the wall another speculative look before turning her attention back towards the battle going on all around her.  
  
Whether or not she heard him or just decided to make use of the help, Dean didn't know, but she was purposefully manoeuvring her opponents towards him, particularly if she was being attacked by more than one demon at a time. It made him feel a bit more helpful despite still being stuck behind a wall and he adjusted his position to keep up with her movements as the fighting pushed her first one way and then the other. Though his range of view was limited and most of his attention was focused on his new angelic partner, he wasn't completely oblivious to the demonic attention that their little routine was attracting. It was therefore that he reached down and grasped his shotgun with his free hand and cocked it so that it would be ready to use when he needed it.  
  
That moment took longer to arrive than Dean had thought that it would, but he ducked and spun around when one of the demons who had been paying the closest attention vanished from his line of sight. His instincts were proven correct when it materialized a little behind him and to the right down the corridor. He greeted it with a salt round to the stomach before darting forwards with his knife, killing it before the demon had a chance to attack him.  
  
"Oh, yeah, stuck behind a wall and still in the game!" Dean crowed. "You can't bench this Winchester that easily."  
  
As if on cue another demon appeared in the passageway with him followed shortly by a third.  
  
"Shit."  
  
Years of training and instinct had Dean throwing the knife at the second demon even before he'd fully decided to do so before he tried to dart sideways away from the remaining demon. He wasn't quite fast enough and the edge of its psychic energy threw him backwards but at least he wasn't fully caught and pinned helplessly to the wall. He used the opportunity to spray widely with his water gun, causing the demon to hiss and scream in both anger and pain. He began rattling off an exorcism as he kept up with the Holy water and added a salt round for good measure when the demon tried to level a hand at him once more.  
  
A cough interrupted him for just a second, but it was enough for the demon and Dean was sent sprawling backwards onto the passageway floor. The pain dazed him and when he looked up it was to find a seething black demonic mass hovering in the air right above his face. Realization dawned on him just as the demon surged forwards, attempting to enter his meatsuit and take over. Although his protective tattoo kicked in automatically and prevented the demon from possessing him, he could feel its dark, oily essence sliding across his skin and he had flashes of Hell when Alastair had done something similar, though with the intent of possessing him in a completely different way.  
  
The bile rose within Dean, but so did the rage and he took great satisfaction from the inhuman cry the demon let out as it jerked back away from him as if burned.  
  
"Angelic wing oil and essence, you bastard," Dean hissed before hitting it with a stream of Holy water.  
  
The odd screaming continued and Dean took a dark pleasure from being able to make an incorporeal demon cry out. Instead of trying to reclaim its original host, the demon fled through the ceiling, abandoning the battle entirely. He could only hope that it was intercepted by one of the angels still trapped outside. Or at least he assumed that they were still stuck out there as there didn't seem to be a particular increase in the number of angels fighting in the room beyond the passageway wall.  
  
The thought spurred Dean to his feet once more, biting back his own cry at the pain. He stepped back to the wall and glanced through one of the many peepholes. The angel that he'd been working with before seemed to have moved on as he couldn't immediately spot her. He frowned and moved a little down the passageway and choose another peephole. What he saw this time caused his breath to catch for there, caught in the middle of a gleaming circle of light, was an angel. He could recognize it for what it was instantly as it glowed, albeit weakly, with the light of its true form that seemed to be seeping through its vessel. For a moment he was sure that this was it and that his eyes would burn out of his skull, but then he realized that it had been far too long already and that it hardly even stung. At most it was like looking towards the sun on a cloudy day.  
  
The fact that this wasn't entirely true for demons was proven when one of them was flung up against the glowing barrier and seemed to all but dissolve upon contact. Still, Dean knew that something must be up as otherwise the mere fact that an angel was partway out of its vessel would be enough to kill all of the demons in the immediate area and that just wasn't happening. What it would do to him he didn't have the first clue, not now that he'd been Michael's vessel and seemed to have picked up all kinds of strange angelic-like abilities. Not that he really wanted to test that, well not apart from with his lover as that would almost be worth it just to se-  
  
Dean froze as he caught sight of a mixed white and gray wolf's head on the angel's true form. The poor angel had been whirling around inside the seemingly shrinking confinement much as Lucifer had in his cage, flitting between pure light and the more distinct shapes of the angel's true form, all with occasional flashes of the vessel underneath. He'd been feeling sorry for the poor bastard on an abstract level but now those feelings turned into a ball of ice in his gut as terror awoke inside of him.  
  
A mixed white and gray wolf's head. Flashes of tan from the vessel. A multitude of black wings.  
  
 _Castiel_.  
  
Even before the head of the wolf morphed into that of a fiery phoenix, Dean was absolutely sure that he was right. That was his lover trapped in there, hopelessly stuck from the looks of things and clearly in mortal peril. No way would Castiel be that frantic to get out if his angel wasn't fighting for his life.  
  
"Cas!" Dean cried out, his free hand coming up to clutch at the wall as if it would somehow allow him to push through it. "Cas!"  
  
Another demon smashed into the glowing barrier and dissolved into nothingness and Dean would have just ignored it but for the fact that it seemed that the other angels were deliberately using the barrier to aid them in their fight. He wanted to rage at them for being so callous when his lover was in such serious danger but then reason asserted itself and he knew that there was probably nothing that they could do. This was another one of those anti-angel barriers from before, or not. This time he was certain that he'd seen it right and hadn't just imagined it. The circle  _was_  getting smaller, pressing ever more closely in on Castiel and he didn't even want to think about what would happen to his angel if it continued to do so and constricted entirely.  
  
"Cas!"  
  
This was it.  _This_  was how those other angels had died, the ones that Castiel had mentioned earlier. The realization made Dean sick and he groaned, unable to stop himself from thinking about exactly what might happen to his lover if Castiel didn't manage to get out of there. And he wouldn't, no angel could get either out or in, which left only him and he was useless, stuck out here in some freaking secret passageway.  
  
There just  _had_  to be a way into that room.  
  
"Cas!"  
  
Dean pounded the wall with a fist before he stepped back and kicked it as hard as he could. The pain made him curse violently and hobble back a few steps. He was  _not_  going to just stand by and watch someone else that he loved die. He  _wasn't_ , dammit! There just had to be something that he could do about it. There  _had_  to be! He'd tear down this wall with his bare hands if he had to.  
  
He'd-  
  
Dean's eyes widened in shock as he caught sight of one of the symbols etched into the passageway wall.  
  



	130. Chapter 129

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean comes up with a plan of action based on the symbol.

**PAST**  
  
  
He  _knew_  that symbol! It was something that Dean had come across in all of the research that he'd done on angelic lore and the Apocalypse. He'd even gotten quite excited the first time he'd seen it as he'd thought that it might be exactly the type of thing that they were looking for to stop Lucifer, as it was the grounding symbol for magic that was a means of trapping an angel.  
  
Unfortunately Michael had soon dashed Dean's hopes, telling him that it was little better than Holy oil. The only reason that it was slightly better at all was because it couldn't be broken by just anyone. Instead it had to be done with the blood of an angel and the proper incantation, thereby ruling out most demons and humans but leaving other angels- like Simiel or rogues like Uriel- as perfectly viable candidates for freeing the devil should they use this as a means with which to trap Lucifer. Michael hadn't said anything about this method being able to kill an angel, but that might just be a case of the dark magic saturating the place twisting it into that kind of threat.  
  
Regardless of how it had happened, or even how it had come to be here in the first place, the symbol sent a surge of hope through Dean. This right here was the key to not only Castiel's freedom, but also to all of the barriers keeping Michael trapped and Raphael and the backup garrisons out. If he could disable it then it would save his lover and change the tide of  _all_  of the ongoing battles in an instant.  
  
This time when he coughed, Dean allowed himself to look down at his hand and, sure enough, there was blood on it. Well, looking on the bright side, that meant that he wouldn't have to cut himself and that definitely counted for something as far as he was concerned! Not wanting to take the risk of having to cut himself because the blood had run through his fingers before he could use it, he stepped up to the wall and began painting the necessary sigils over the grounding symbol. As he came up short he didn't fight to suppress the next cough when the urge struck him though he did force himself not to dwell on what it meant that he brought up blood every time now.  
  
Instead Dean finished the sigils and then stepped back to check his work. It looked pretty good if he did say so himself, especially considering that he'd never drawn any of these before. Had only ever seen them in that boo-  
  
The thought brought Dean up short abruptly and his eyes widened in realization. He  _hadn't_  ever seen these sigils before as they  _hadn't_  been in that book, instead Michael had told him about their existence after he'd thought that he'd found something that they could actually use against Lucifer. So how had he known what the sigils looked like, much less be able to paint them with such confidence? And how the hell was the incantation on the tip of his tongue, ready to be uttered?  
  
It was as he pondered those questions that Dean realized something else.  
  
In order to successfully counter the power and magic grounded in the symbol, he needed  _the blood of an angel_.  
  
Dean could have hit himself for not stopping to think about that particular detail just a little sooner. Instead he'd just assumed that his blood would do and acted accordingly without even pausing, or even merely  _hesitating_ , to think about whether that was a valid assumption or not. He wasn't sure what had possessed him to do that as he'd never made that kind of assumption before. It wasn't like he had much choice but to try it, though, and he  _had_ been able to do quite a few things that he shouldn't have had the ability to do. Not to mention the fact that he'd long ago said yes and had Michael inside of him multiple times now, so he supposed that in a lot of ways he could be considered an angel. At least when it came to things like blood as angels most definitely didn't have any of their own to use for this ritual.  
  
So, all things considered, there was actually a pretty good chance that his blood would be good enough for this. Dean was just still hung up on the fact that hadn't even thought to think it over before acting. That just wasn't like him, or at least it hadn't been like him before, though Castiel had done his level best to try and change that fact. Could it be as simple as that? Could his lover have gotten him to start thinking differently about himself? It was a strange thought but not necessarily a bad one. He knew that his angel,  _all_  of his angels actually, only had the best in mind for him even if he couldn't always see how they could think what they did. Still, it was weird to think that they might be rubbing off on him to that extent.  
  
The mere memory of his lover caught in the ever-shrinking trap was all that Dean needed to shove it all aside. It didn't really matter how or why that he'd come to start thinking like this so long as it led to a way for him to save Castiel. That was all which really mattered to him and he'd take a change to his way of thinking if it meant that he was able to save his angel. Instead he focused his attention inward to the part of him that  _knew_  what the sigils were supposed to look like and what the incantation was and checked his work. As far as he could tell it was flawless, as if painted by a hand that had done it before. There was a brief flash of something, gone almost as soon as he was aware of it, as evanescent as a flash of lightning, but it was more than enough for him to understand what was going on here and it made his breath catch in his throat.  
  
 _Michael_.  
  
He didn't know how to draw the sigils or what the incantation was, but his friend did and somehow that knowledge had transferred itself to him. Dean swallowed thickly, more than a little afraid of exactly what that meant, but he wasn't going to worry about it now. Instead he took a step back and allowed the proper Enochian to flow from his mouth, sounding far more musical and fanciful than anything with this kind of power had any right to. He hadn't even fully finished the incantation when his blood turned to fire, the red flames burning strong and bright until the end of the incantation before dying out, leaving the original grounding symbol warped and faded.  
  
"Mike?" Dean called out, desperately concentrating on his friend. "Please, if you can get in now, Cas needs help badly."  
  
There was a flutter of wings behind him and then there was an arm around his waist. "Hush, Little One," Michael said, his free hand coming up to brush fingers against Dean's forehead.  
  
The sudden relief was overwhelming and Dean would have staggered without the support Michael gave him. Instinctively he took several deep breaths, briefly marvelling at how easy it was to do so now without anything pulling and tearing deep within him at the simple action.  
  
"Cas-"  
  
"Raphael has him, come."  
  
In a fraction of a second they were in the chamber beside the passageway and Dean could see his lover before him. There were still skirmishes taking place all around them, but he paid them no heed as he rushed forwards calling for his angel before he dropped to the ground beside Raphael.  
  
"Cas!"  
  
"Dean," Castiel replied, eyes snapping open and turning to stare at him. "You're alive!"  
  
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine."  
  
"You weren't."  
  
Castiel reached out to touch his shirt sleeve as he said it and Dean looked down to find some blood on the cuff. "S'okay, Mike already took care of it. How are you? I saw you stuck in that trap. Raph?"  
  
"He will be fine in a few moments," Raphael replied, glancing up at him reassuringly while his hands glowed brightly where they rested on Castiel's vessel. "The damage was not yet severe."  
  
"Good."  
  
"Dean," Castiel said once more, fingers tightening around his wrist.  
  
"I'm here."  
  
"How did you survive the fall?"  
  
"Fall?" Michael demanded sharply.  
  
"I took the fast track down to the heart of this place," Dean replied wryly before he shrugged. "My shotgun harness got caught on the rock, breaking my fall. I climbed the rest of the way down and found another way up."  
  
"The demon child, she said she was going to go looking for you," Castiel stated.  
  
"She had more important things to worry about."  
  
"The artefact."  
  
"Yeah, bad news is that the demons found it and she managed to get it before I could stop her."  
  
"What was it?" Raphael inquired.  
  
"A chalice, from Heaven I think."  
  
Michael reached out with two fingers, brushing his forehead once more. "Concentrate on it."  
  
Dean closed his eyes and did as requested before throwing in the images of the banishing and grounding symbols that he'd seen as well. There was a familiar brush of Grace within him and then Michael was done, frowning as he pulled back.  
  
"It was indeed a Heavenly artefact though I do not immediately recognize it. The presence of such clear angelic magic here is also most concerning. Good job with destroying the grounding symbol anchoring it all in place."  
  
"It's all thanks to you, 'cause I've never seen or done that particular counter charm before."  
  
He didn't have to say anymore as the others clearly understood what he meant. Dean was about to try and disperse some of the tension with a joke when Castiel suddenly righted himself and pulled him close. He let out a startled squawk but didn't protest the manhandling, clutching his lover close now that he was sure he wouldn't hurt his angel doing so. The slight trembling in the wings that came up to wrap around him clearly displayed how shaken Castiel still was and it overcame any hesitation he might have had of allowing such a display in public.  
  
"The demons have either fled or are attempting to do so," Raphael stated. "We can deal with those that are left and can commence the search into what this chalice might have been or could be used for."  
  
That seemed to be all the encouragement Castiel needed as the next thing that Dean knew they were in their bedroom and his lover was kissing the life out of him. He reached up to clutch his angel close as the terror he'd felt earlier returned to him. He could well have lost Castiel today. The coldness that washed over him nearly made him start trembling as well so he burrowed his hands under his lover's shirt, seeking hot skin. Castiel obligingly vanished their clothing as he began backing his angel towards the bed, tumbling down on top of his lover, kissing and biting frantically.  
  
"Cas, Cas, Cas."  
  
"Dean."  
  
Castiel's grasp was rough, either just shy of bruising or on the wrong side of it, but Dean didn't care. It let him  _feel_  his lover in a way that he really needed right now. And any bruises? They'd just prove that both of them had made it through the encounter alive. Rough hands, gentle wings and a hot, hard length pressed against his own. It was all that he needed and he ground down against Castiel, rutting frantically.  
  
The way his lover's arm came to wrap around his waist was telling and Dean wished that he could have given Castiel the chance to catch him before he'd fallen. The thought of how helpless his angel must have felt just then brought up the memory of how helpless he'd felt while stuck in the passageway watching Castiel struggling desperately within the barrier trap. His touch calmed as he thought of what else he'd witnessed.  
  
"I saw you," Dean breathed softly, reverently, as he pulled back enough to speak.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You, I saw you, when you were trapped within the barrier. I saw the real you, your wolf, and your phoenix. Your true form."  
  
The words seemed to stun Castiel for a moment, as if his lover couldn't quite believe them, before Dean was pulled back down into a heated kiss. But no, to call it a heated kiss didn't even begin to do it justice, not at all. The passion behind the kiss reminded him of all that he'd felt from his lover while holding their kalsika and just like that everything changed once more. Although he knew that the mere memory of Castiel's love and emotions for him couldn't hold a candle against the actual feelings or being able to experience it live, but it was still so much more than he'd ever even dreamed that it was possible to receive that it worked more than well enough for him now. Especially since he knew that it was only a matter of time before he got to experience the real thing again.  
  
His fingers sought out Castiel's oil nubs almost without thought, massaging them just how he knew his lover liked it best. The resulting writhing and moaning could make him come all on its own, Dean knew, if he were to let it, but he had other plans for just now. He wanted to celebrate, both the fact that they'd survived despite the odds, but also that he'd seen his angel's true form and hadn't reacted as he'd feared that he might when he'd first learned about the fact that Castiel had animal faces. It had been strange, yes, but somehow that was all.  
  
It was  _Castiel_ , his lover, his angel, and Dean didn't care what that meant physically or whatever an angel's true form was. It was still his Cas and that was all that mattered.  
  
"You really saw me?" Castiel whispered, stunned and awed at once.  
  
"Yeah, Cas, I saw you," Dean replied, his fingers slipping into his lover. "Wish I could have seen the rest of you, your other faces."  
  
Castiel pulled him back down into another kiss, wings tightening around him as Dean prepared his lover as quickly as he could. Slipping into his angel was like reactivating the kalsika and he pulled back enough to look into Castiel's eyes, seeing both them and the other; the wolf, the phoenix. Time seemed to slow and all he was aware of was the tight heat of his lover's muscles as they clamped down around him; the look in Castiel's eyes as his face hovered just inches over his angel's while he thrust into him; and the feel of Castiel's heels digging into his ass, urging him on, harder and faster. He reached out to dig his free hand into the closest wing, expertly manipulating the feathers for maximum pleasure until his lover cried out and came untouched between them.  
  
The warm spurt of cum on his abdomen and the way Castiel clamped down on his cock made Dean lose control and he came deep within his lover.  
  



	131. Chapter 130

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Castiel take it easy before getting back to work.

**PAST**  
  
  
Dean stretched lazily, rubbing his face in his lover's feathers beneath him. Castiel hummed and the hand on his lower back moved upwards, tracing his spine. He arched his back, causing his morning wood to rub against his lover's wings and he moaned, the feel of the feathers against his cock simply sublime. He moaned and bucked his hips instinctively, seeking more. Castiel let out a half amused, half aroused sound and then the pressure of the wings beneath him firmed.  
  
"Cas," Dean mewled, the contrast of silky softness with angelic strength frying his still sleep-fogged mind.  
  
"Dean," Castiel replied as Dean felt lips on his shoulder and the hot, hard length of his lover up against his hip.  
  
His angel was humping him and it was hotter than it had any right to be. Dean opened his eyes to slits in order to catch a glimpse of Castiel's pleasure soaked face and the sight left him speechless. His fingers sunk into the wings beneath him, both for greater leverage, but also so he could twist and tug at the feathers. His lover bucked against him, Castiel's own hold on him tightening before teeth sank into his shoulder. He whined, back arching downwards and changing the angle his hips were canted at. His cock dragged deliciously across the feathers and then sank  _into_  them. The sensation of them literally engulfing his hard length blanked his mind for a moment and then Castiel shifted his wings, pulling them closer together and the pressure of his now weeping cock increased making his realize that he'd gotten his erection caught in-between two of the wings.  
  
Dean moaned, thrusting harder and faster to feel as much of the wonderful sensation as was possible even if he was sure that it would drive him mad with pleasure. Castiel was moving more erratically against his side and he felt the warm stickiness of pre-cum on his skin. He keened before turning his head so that he could mouth along the delicate arch of one wing, eliciting all kinds of delicious little sounds from his angel. Wanting more, he brought his teeth into play, teasing the skin and baby feathers there and Castiel came, shouting his name.  
  
The wings shifted uncontrollably beneath him and Dean cried out, arching. His lover's hand reached out across his back and landed on the handprint scar and then he was coming too, flying over the edge.  
  
The pleasure left Dean half aware and completely pliant so when Castiel raised his wings, he rolled until he came to rest up against his angel. He hummed, well pleased with his new position and Castiel laughed but it was a soft sound and he knew that he wasn't the only one who was perfectly content to just lie here. He was warm, wet in all the right ways and completely sated; basking was entirely called for just now.  
  
Time was always fluid at times like this, so Dean had absolutely no clue as to how much time might have passed before he heard the sounds coming from the other room.  
  
"Cas?" Dean asked.  
  
"It is Michael and Raphael."  
  
Dean groaned, not at all ready to get up just yet. It was right after he'd made the decision to simply ignore the two archangels when the flutter of wings announced that at least of said archangels had absolutely no manners and wasn't going to be ignored. The tightening of Castiel's wings around him told him that his bare ass wasn't on display so he remained exactly where he was. What he totally forgot to take into account was which parts of him weren't being hidden from view by his lover's wings. Therefore it wasn't until fingers encircled his ankle while others tickled his bare foot that he realized his mistake.  
  
He jerked his foot back even as he laughed, his whole body twitching.  
  
"No fair!" Dean complained, opening his eyes to see Michael standing at the end of the bed, a large smile on his face. "Mike!"  
  
The warning went unheeded and Michael reached for his other foot next.  
  
"Cas!" Dean pleaded and laughed as he shifted, trying to pull his second foot out of reach.  
  
His lover laughed but raised some wings to bat Michael back with so Dean let it go.  
  
"Come on, Little One, time to get up," Michael stated, amusement still rife in his voice.  
  
"Go away," Dean replied, tucking his head under a conveniently placed wing.  
  
"Raphael brought food."  
  
As if on cue, Dean's stomach growled. "Food?"  
  
"Mm, tacos."  
  
Tacos for breakfast? That was definitely something that Dean could get behind and he squeezed Castiel's arm when it looked like his angel might try to correct Michael's mistake. Or rather Raphael's, but he was simply pleased that his new friend had thought to get his anything at all even if it was time inappropriate. Besides, it was always time for tacos, especially ones that probably came straight from Mexico!  
  
"Cas, could yo-" Dean began and then found himself clean and in a fresh set of clothes. "Thanks!"  
  
"I knew food would get you out of bed," Michael teased.  
  
"Bite me," Dean shot back and then paused. "Wait, then what was the tickling about?"  
  
"Fun. And I wished to see how it worked in person instead of just abstractly."  
  
"Bastard."  
  
"Are you not pleased with my curiosity about humans?"  
  
"Not so long as I'm the guinea pig. And it's 'aren't you'."  
  
"I do not understand."  
  
"People now say 'aren't you pleased' instead of 'are you not pleased'. They use the contraction."  
  
And Dean couldn't quite believe that  _he_  of all people was giving grammar lessons. To an angel of the Lord no less.  
  
"Oh, I see."  
  
"I could've sworn that you've used them before."  
  
"He has on occasion," Castiel agreed. "But I do not think he realized that he was doing it."  
  
"Obviously not."  
  
Michael frowned. "Why would people use these contractions?"  
  
"'Cause they're shorter?"  
  
"So it is sloth."  
  
"Dude, don't go making it sound like a sin," Dean scowled. "It just makes sense. Why say twice as much when something much shorter makes do?"  
  
"Humans are strange creatures."  
  
"Hey!"  
  
The fact that his lover laughed as well as Michael made Dean huff and leave the bedroom, imagining that if he had wings of his own his feathers would be all ruffled and raised just now. It was an odd thought and he stopped to contemplate it for a moment before the smell of the tacos reached him and he instantly rearranged his priorities.  
  
"I was beginning to think that Michael would not get you out of bed," Raphael stated with some amusement as Dean made a beeline for the food.  
  
"Dude, are you kidding me? With tacos in the place?" Dean replied, noting the Spanish on the wrapper. "These from Mexico?"  
  
"Yes, Rio Bravo to be exact. I heard a couple of the tourists recommending the place to another couple."  
  
All it took was one bite for Dean to figure out why this place had been recommended as the taco was awesome, easily the best one that he'd ever had, but seeing as he'd only ever had American ones, that made sense. "You're awesome, Raph!"  
  
"If only I'd known before that all I needed to gain your approval was to provide you with food."  
  
The archangel was laughing at him. Dean glared at him over his taco but he had his mouth full at the moment and he'd seen Michael and Raphael wince often enough when he spoke while eating to know that it wouldn't win him any points. Besides, he'd much rather eat his fantastic taco than needle his new friend, much fun as that always was. Food just took priority, well, over most things anyway. The thought made him pause and he turned around to look at his lover consideringly. Castiel had come a long way when it came to eating and his angel had even started to show preferences, chocolate amongst them. Perhaps it was time to introduce his angel to the pleasures of combining delicious chocolaty goodness with sex?  
  
A wicked smile crossed Dean's face as he pictured that particular scenario and Castiel tilted his head, looking at him inquiringly. "You'll see," Dean promised as the idea took hold.  
  
He would so enjoy this.  
  
"Now that we are all here, Raphael and I have some news to share," Michael said.  
  
"That sounds ominous," Dean stated.  
  
"It is definitely not good," Raphael agreed. "We believe that the chalice might be the one created by Saint John the Evangelist after his death to help purify the souls found in Purgatory."  
  
"Wait, Purgatory is real?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
"Oh, okay."  
  
"You didn't know?" Castiel questioned, frowning.  
  
"I never really gave it much thought either way, to be honest. So what does this chalice do then? And why was it in a secret chamber in Teotihuacan?"  
  
"We do not know the answer to the last question as the chalice seems to have vanished from Heaven a very long time ago," Michael stated.  
  
"Things seem to vanish from Heaven on a regular basis," Dean replied. "Far too much so for comfort."  
  
"I concur," Castiel agreed darkly. "I shall be implementing some new security measures and regulations."  
  
"Had you not looked into what had gone missing before, Brother?" Raphael inquired.  
  
"From the library and weapons armoury, yes. I had not thought to broaden that search to encompass all of Heaven, a fact which was clearly remiss of me."  
  
"You know, I hate to say it, but all of this is beginning to look far too systematic to be a coincidence," Dean declared, finishing his second taco.  
  
"What do you mean?" Michael questioned.  
  
"Well just think about it, the books, the weapons and now this chalice and who knows what other artefacts? And I wouldn't be surprised if it wasn't the only one. It almost strikes me that someone went through Heaven, grabbing what they needed to achieve their ends and then just made off with it all and, given from what we've uncovered so far, it was someone with prior knowledge of things to come. I mean why else would it all be things that we keep discovering are connected to the Apocalypse in one way or another?"  
  
His speech left the archangels highly uncomfortable, just as Dean had known that it would, but he'd also known that it needed to be said despite that. Just like he'd needed to bring it up the first time he'd done so while sitting with Michael and Castiel at his favorite burger joint in the world (or at least the United States of America anyway, given some of what he'd tasted from the rest of the world he wasn't ruling anything out anymore). It was just too damn convenient for the books relating to the second half of the Apocalypse to go AWOL and then some of the weapons from the armoury  _and_  now this chalice that Lucifer had so desperately wanted. It was just far too much and he didn't even believe in coincidences at the best of times. Still, it had to hurt his archangels to know that someone had deliberately set all of this up to ensure that they got to this point. He might not understand the dysfunctional family dynamics of Heaven, but he definitely understood what the betrayal of a sibling felt like.  
  
"Dean is right, all of these events can't all be independent of each other," Castiel finally stated heavily, breaking the silence.  
  
"True but it does not answer the question of who or why all of this was done," Raphael pointed out.  
  
"Neither is there an immediately obvious answer," Michael added. "If it were Lucifer or Simiel, then the chalice would not have been placed somewhere that they were unable to reach easily."  
  
"And if it were someone on our side then the books would not have been taken from the library as they could have prevented you from commencing the Apocalypse," Castiel concluded.  
  
Dean winced at that, his lover's complete and total lack of tact not particularly helpful in this case. Instead of bristling, though, both Michael and Raphael took the words in stride, merely nodding their agreement. He was distracted for a moment at seeing his newest friend make sure a human gesture, but then figured that Raphael might be subconsciously imitating his older brother (well if angels even did that, though he had to assume that they did). Still, it was a testament to his influence, however indirectly it might have come about, and he couldn't help but feel a little swell of pride at that. So perhaps Castiel and Michael were influencing him and the way he thought, but it definitely wasn't a one-way street and he figured that made it all okay. He probably could do with a certain amount of angelic influence if he was to survive the battles still to come.  
  
"So who does that leave?" Dean asked, unable to come up with a viable third option.  
  
"I do not know," Michael replied.  
  
"Does anyone else stand to gain from everything that has happened?"  
  
"Not anyone that could gain access to Heaven in order to do all that has been done."  
  
"Your grandfather's resurrection," Castiel exclaimed suddenly. "I believe that, along with Sam's release from the cage and Adam's return to Heaven, need to be added to this list of unexplainable events. All three were performed by an as of yet unknown entity and, when taken together, do not make logical sense for anyone from either side to have done. Sam's resurrection perhaps if it were someone who wanted to ensure that Lucifer had no immediate vessel once he was freed, but not your grandfather's resurrection or Adam's release from the cage."  
  
"Uh, it's too early in the morning for these kinds of deep thoughts," Dean muttered getting to his feet and heading towards the kitchen. "I need coffee."  
  
"Perhaps they were not all performed by the same person?" Raphael suggested.  
  
"That would imply that multiple beings have been tampering with Heaven's resources," Michael countered. "That is less likely."  
  
"But it might make more sense."  
  
"Only if we had a means of determining who had done what," Castiel said. "As it is, we would only be able to guess which would require at least some understanding of why each act was performed."  
  
Dean listened with half an ear as his archangels tried to break things down while he set up his coffee machine. Its purchase had been pure indulgence on his part as it was neither the cheapest nor the most straightforward of coffee machines, but he'd figured that he deserved the small luxury. Besides, with all of the damn research that he'd been doing, he needed a constant source of caffeine in order to stay awake and not drift off over whatever tome he happened to be perusing at the time. Then of course there was the fact that, given Castiel's propensity to bring him coffee beans straight from Colombia, he really couldn't stand to ruin something that amazing because he'd been stingy with money that wasn't even his own.  
  
Really, Dean was sometimes amazed that he hadn't ballooned in weight since his lover had first begun bringing him food and drinks from all over the world. He could honestly say that he'd never eaten so well, but neither had he ever eaten as much rich food as he did now. Before it had always been cheap, greasy stuff from roadside diners and the like. He was just about to hit the power button on the coffee machine when he heard his phone ring. For a moment he was sure that it had to be coming from the bedroom as he hadn't grabbed it earlier, but that was only because he'd momentarily forgotten just how he'd gotten dressed this morning. Or rather who had dressed him, wrong as that sounded.  
  
"Yeah?" Dean said, already turning his attention back to the coffee machine.  
  
"Dean? It's Father Giordano."  
  
"Father Giordano," Dean repeated in surprise before a bad feeling settled into the pit of his stomach but he did his best to simply ignore it. "Do you have some more information for us?"  
  
"No, no that is not why I am calling. The news is much worse, actually. The Vatican has been attacked and based on what you told Colonel Anrig during your last visit here, we believe that it might have been the archangel Simiel."


	132. Chapter 131

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and his archangels go to the Vatican once more.

**PAST**  
  
  
"Simiel?" Dean repeated, startled.  
  
A quick look behind him showed Dean that his archangels had heard the news and were now completely focused on his conversation, their own forgotten.  
  
"She matches the description, but we have film footage of her if you wish to confirm it."  
  
"Yeah, we'll be there right away," Dean replied, eyeing his coffee machine forlornly. "Where exactly are you all now?"  
  
"We are in the Archives, the southern wing."  
  
"We'll be right there."  
  
Since he'd heard his lover moving closer, Dean wasn't surprised when he turned around and Castiel was right there. Two fingers touched his forehead and then he was back in the Vatican Archives. Unlike before, though, the halls were far from being either quiet or empty. No, this time they were full of people, mostly men in the clown suits of the Vatican security forces, though there were others present as well. The cacophony of sound after the relative silence of the apartment took a moment to sort through.  
  
Most immediately obvious was the blaring of alarms, probably from the shattered display room windows that Dean saw everywhere. He winced at the sound but figured that taking care of the wounded was definitely a far higher priority than getting someone to go shut off the alarms. He didn't even need to ask to know that Simiel had used her true voice down here as far too many of the clown guards had blood coming from their ears for anything else to have transpired. He'd just turned to look towards Michael and Raphael, hoping they'd be amenable to lending a hand, when he saw that they already were. That Castiel would do so had never been in question.  
  
"Are they healing them?" Father Mancini asked, suddenly beside him.  
  
"They'll do their best," Dean replied. "If Simiel used her true voice, the voice of her true form, then I don't think that they can fully heal them."  
  
"They will be deaf forever?"  
  
"Yes, unfortunately."  
  
Father Mancini seemed to ponder that a moment before nodding. "They have survived an encounter with an archangel and fought directly in the fight against Lucifer, they should be proud. And they will be honored."  
  
"I doubt that they'll let this prevent them from trying to help out even more."  
  
"Yes, I believe that you are right. It is good to see you again, even if it is under these horrible circumstances."  
  
"And even better to see Castiel again?" Dean teased and knew he was right when the priest's eyes wandered towards his archangel and filled with awe and no little disbelief, as if the man still couldn't believe what he'd been allowed to see before.  
  
Oddly enough, Dean felt a little twinge of jealousy deep within him and he frowned. If anything he should be glad that someone was giving his lover the reverence and respect that he felt Castiel so rightly deserved. So why did he feel this way? It wasn't like there was any danger whatsoever of Father Mancini trying to steal his angel away from him or anything ridiculous like that. Besides, even if they were somewhere where someone was actively trying to steal his lover away from him, he now knew that Castiel wouldn't be interested and that was only if his angel even realized what was going on. Despite everything that had happened and how thoroughly he'd introduced Castiel to sex and romance, his lover was still painfully naive in a lot of areas when it came to sex and humans. Especially when there was no love or serious affection involved as integral parts of the relationship.  
  
So, yeah, Dean knew without a shadow of a doubt that his lover was his. So why the jealousy? It didn't make any sense, but he had the sneaking suspicion that Castiel would be turned on by it given his angel's own propensity for jealousy and his lover's kink of claiming him as thoroughly as possible so he filed it away for the next time that they were alone. He had a feeling that he would like the results of doing so  _very_  much indeed.  
  
Dean did his utmost best to keep the inappropriate look of glee off his face as he turned back towards Father Mancini. "Father Giordano said that you had a video of the attack?"  
  
"Yes, Colonel Anrig has it over there."  
  
Father Mancini was pointing off towards the left and Dean followed him after a last glance back at his archangels who were still tending to the wounded and gathering a group of awed followers who didn't want to miss a single miracle. Or at least that's what it looked like to him and he left them to it. All three of his archangels had seen more than their fair share of humanity's darker side so it was probably a good thing that they now saw how grateful and awed that humans could be as well. Father Mancini was leading him through a group of far more alert and less wounded clown guards, all of whom parted easily when they caught sight of him and they were soon at a makeshift command center where Colonel Anrig stood in the middle of a hum of controlled chaos.  
  
"Winchester," Colonel Anrig said as soon as he caught sight of him.  
  
"Colonel," Dean replied, knowing he'd butcher the guy's name if he tried to pronounce it and now was just not the time for that kind of stuff. "Father Mancini tells me you think it was Simiel that was here?"  
  
"The woman was small and blond as you'd said Simiel is and she got past all of our multilayered demonic defenses as if they weren't even there, so I have to assume that she was an angel."  
  
"Oh, of that I'm already certain seeing the kind of damage she wrecked on your men."  
  
"That is the nature of the true form damage that Michael had mentioned to us the last time?"  
  
"Part of it, yes. Though, trust me, it could have been far worse than this. I'm assuming that all she did was speak with her true voice as I don't see anyone with their eyes burned out."  
  
"And you can take all of that inside you without damage?" Father Mancini questioned, awed.  
  
Dean shifted uncomfortably, wishing the man was less awed now. It wasn't like he'd done anything to deserve that particular ability, it had just been the result of his ancestral lineage. "If it's Michael, then yeah, I don't think that I could survive it if any other angel were to try though I haven't ever actually asked them about that."  
  
"What is it like?" Colonel Anrig asked and Dean suddenly realized that he had the complete attention of everyone around them.  
  
"Uh, intense, it's really,  _really_  intense. I'm not quite sure how else to explain it beyond that as it's so different from anything else I can remember ever having experienced before. I guess it's more of a soul experience than a body one so you'd need to know what it's like to be just a soul, completely separated from your meatsuit. Not to say that your meatsuit isn't important as it most definitely is as your get pushed down inside of it when the angel comes in, but the feeling of Grace wrapping around your soul simply overrides anything else."  
  
"You are aware of their Grace touching your soul?" Father Mancini all but whispered.  
  
"Yeah," Dean replied, shifting uncomfortably under all of the attention. "Michael kinda wraps around me, he says it's to make sure that nothing can harm me while we're together."  
  
And that still sounded wrong to Dean no matter how completely he now understood what it meant and how much he had come to enjoy all of the benefits of allowing his friend in. It was one of the few occasions where he disliked the fact that his mind lived quite happily in the gutter more often than not. He should have known that it would get him into trouble sooner or later and it was almost a miracle in and of itself that he hadn't truly come to regret it long before now.  
  
With the flutter of wings, Castiel was suddenly beside him and Dean took far more satisfaction out of the fact that the others all jumped and made startled sounds than he really should have. After all he knew only all too well how annoying it could be to suddenly have an angel appearing in your midst. Still, it was funny when it was happening to someone other than him and to have it happen to a group of people, most of whom were dressed like clowns, then it became downright hilarious.  
  
"Everyone healed?" Dean asked in lieu of laughing, though his lips twitched traitorously.  
  
"Michael and Raphael are finishing up with the last two just now," Castiel replied. "Was Simiel the culprit here?"  
  
"I don't know yet, we got sidetracked with questions about the damage a true form angel can do and what it feels like for vessels to experience all of this power unshielded."  
  
"We do have the footage right here," Colonel Anrig said, pulling out a thin book like thing.  
  
Dean frowned as he looked at it and it wasn't until clown guy flipped open a thin cover that he realized it was one of those newfangled pad thingies. The quality of the picture when Anrig brought it up was amazingly good though so he figured it might have some advantages but he still didn't get how you were supposed to do internet searches without a keyboard to actually type things in with.  
  
"That's Simiel alright," Dean confirmed as soon as she appeared on screen, flying into the middle of a previously empty Archive hallway. "When did she attack?"  
  
"It was just earlier this morning, Father Giordano called you as soon as we had the time to do so," Colonel Anrig replied.  
  
"Why did you not call us during the attack itself?" Castiel asked. "We could have fought her off."  
  
"It all happened so quickly, no one was expecting her to attack here and we couldn't do much to prevent her from just going wherever she chose to."  
  
"Of course you couldn't, she's an archangel, remember?" Dean stated. "You're lucky that she didn't just kill everyone as she could have done that quite easily if she'd wanted too."  
  
"Advice that you'd do well to remember as well, Dean," Castiel pointed out.  
  
Dean scowled. "I've got experience with how to handle angels and I'm not sitting out if you guys are fighting."  
  
The wings that came up to half wrap around him let Dean know that Castiel wasn't really arguing with him and given the scare they'd both had just the other day, he was more than willing to put up with a bit of protectiveness just now. And if that feeling led to more later when they were alone, well then so much the better and it would make him far more amenable to being on the receiving end of it in the future. So long as it always led to sex anyway.  
  
There were times when Dean really had to wonder at how he could have as pure a soul as he did given how frequently his mind went straight into the gutter.  
  
"She was looking for something," Castiel deduced as he watched Simiel's actions on the pad.  
  
"That was our conclusion too and why we wished to halt her search so that we could prevent her from finding what she wanted," Colonel Anrig explained. "We were unsuccessful."  
  
"What did she get?" Dean asked.  
  
He winced as he watched some of the fight on the footage. Not that Dean really thought that it could be called a fight at all so much as a one-woman smackdown of multiple highly trained clown guards. It would have been awe-inspiring in a way if it hadn't been so horrible to see. Simiel's vessel couldn't be more than five foot two or three and yet she was successfully pulling off attacks that even the most ambitious of movie heroines wouldn't dare try on her opponents. It would be comical if it wasn't Lucifer's side gaining something else that they wanted for reasons that they hadn't managed to figure out just yet.  
  
"We are not entirely sure," Father Mancini admitted with a little shrug. "It was an artefact that we procured a few centuries ago from the chambers of an extremist Christian group but were never able to identify. All we know is that they placed great value on it and that it is exceptionally old."  
  
"How old?" Castiel inquired.  
  
Now both Father Mancini and Colonel Anrig looked uncomfortable and Dean frowned, wondering what was bothering them.  
  
"Carbon dating tests insist that it comes from the fourth millennium before the birth of Jesus Christ," Father Mancini finally replied.  
  
"Making it most likely Sumerian in origin," Castiel mused.  
  
"Sumerian?" Dean repeated. "What, like the stake we used to kill the Whore?"  
  
"No, that was Babylonian, just like the Whore herself, no, this is even older than that."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"A pot of Enki," Michael stated when he arrived just in time to see Simiel examine her prize before flying off.  
  
"Enen what?"  
  
"Enki, he was a Sumerian god."  
  
"Of what?"  
  
"Depending on which religion you are looking at, everything from water, crafts, mischief, male fertility, intelligence and, what I suspect is most important here, both creation and knowledge."  
  
Dean's eyebrows rose at that seemingly random collection of attributes before moving on. "You think Lucy's interested in something that he knew?"  
  
"Perhaps."  
  
"Enki was killed over a thousand years ago, wasn't he?" Castiel questioned.  
  
"Yes, a group of hunters managed to corner him and drive a virgin blood-soaked stake of beech and oak through him after he killed the child of one of them."  
  
"The pagan gods are real?"  
  
The voice belonged to Father Giordano whose arrival Dean had missed. The poor guy was now pale as a sheet and he was a bit afraid that Father Giordano would faint.  
  
"All of the ancient gods are real, though they do not deserve the name god," Michael stated. "They might have seemed as such to humans once, but they were really nothing more than extremely powerful supernatural beings who were able to maintain their position by being worshipped and believed in. Now that most humans do not do so anymore, they have lost much of their power and are now vulnerable to being killed if the right tools are used."  
  
"Yeah, yeah, but what does the pot of Enki do?" Dean demanded. "Is it powerful?"  
  
"It has the potential to be extremely so," Castiel replied. "Enki was very powerful at his zenith."  
  
With a flutter of wings, Raphael arrived and he looked at Michael. "Yes, Brother?"  
  
"Do you know why Simiel may have come here after a pot of Enki?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Great, so we know that Lucifer has a pot of Enki and the chalice of Saint John the Evangelist but we don't have a clue why he'd want either one," Dean summed up.  
  
"That is correct," Michael agreed.  
  
"The chalice of Saint John the Evangelist?" Father Giordano repeated. "The one he was given with poisoned wine and upon his blessing became pure with the poison rising from it in the form of a serpent?"  
  
"Huh?" Dean questioned.  
  
"No, this was a chalice which he created while in Heaven," Raphael corrected. "It was in an attempt to aid the plight of the souls in Purgatory but which he abandoned when he realized that the souls would have to spend their allocated time in Purgatory even if he managed to purify them faster."  
  
"You say that Lucifer has acquired this chalice?" Colonel Anrig asked.  
  
"Yes, he had his demons obtain it from its hiding place in Teotihuacan," Castiel confirmed.  
  
"So that was why the demons were there. What about the demonic attack on Angkor Wat in Cambodia?"  
  
"What attack?"  
  
"You didn't know?"  
  
"We were a little focused on the one at Teotihuacan," Michael replied. "How do you know about that one?"  
  
"We have a massive information network," Colonel Anrig explained. "This attack was hastily performed with none of the effort made at Teotihuacan to keep it hidden from public view."  
  
"They know we have realized that they are up to something," Castiel concluded.  
  
"The question is why we didn't know about this one," Dean growled as he pulled out his phone and dialled, only just remembering to switch back to English (though he did wonder if perhaps the demon could speak multiple languages). "Crowley."  
  
"Cupcake, I wa-" Crowley began.  
  
"Why didn't you tell us about Angkor Wat?"  
  
"Ah, you heard about that have you?"  
  
"What do you think?"  
  
"Touchy, touchy. Just calm down, pet, I've only just heard about it myself."  
  
"So what use are you to us then?"  
  
"Hey, now hold on there, cupcake, I did warn you about Teotihuacan. That was the one my contacts had heard about. This second attack happened practically as soon as the demons involved learned about it. There was simply no time for me to find out and warn you about it in advance."  
  
"What about anything else? Are there any more whispers?"  
  
"Not yet." Dean gritted his teeth and started to pull his phone away to kill the connection when Crowley continued. "But I might have something for you. You said you knew about the attack on Angkor Wat, but do you know why they attacked it?"  
  
"You know?"  
  
"Give me a little credit here, cupcake. Do you really think that I'm anything less than fully committed to this cause? Lucifer's put a price out on my head and his lackeys ate my tailor, remember? I want him gone just as much as you do."  
  
"I highly doubt that."  
  
"Say please now."  
  
"Crowley."  
  
"Oh come now, cupcake, I'm not asking anything unreasonable here, just a little politeness."  
  
"How about I get a friend of mine over here to trace this call and have Cas pay you a little visit?"  
  
"Now, now, no need to get threatening, lover boy," Crowley replied. "Oh alright, it was the unicorn blood."  
  
"Unicorn blood?"  
  
"There's been this rumor in demonic circles that Lilith once orchestrated a large massacre of unicorns and collected their blood."  
  
"What? Why?"  
  
"Who knows? It  _was_  Lilith and most of what she did never made much sense. Lucifer might have broken her a wee bit when he demonized her," Crowley replied. "Personally I think it was because she hated their purity as they say she had once been pure enough herself to actually touch them and now she wasn't. Regardless, the rumor was that she hid the unicorn blood at Angkor Wat."  
  
"And it was never found?"  
  
"Many looked but nothing was ever found, hence the reason it was believed to be nothing but a rumor, a story that was circulated enough that made it into demonic lore."  
  
"So how did they find it now?"  
  
"My guess is that Lucifer knew something that they didn't. He  _did_  create Lilith after all."  
  
"So how much blood are we talking about here?"  
  
"A bloody lot from what I've heard."  
  
"Any clue what Lucifer wants with it?"  
  
"How should I know? Ask your lover, he's Lucifer's brother."  
  
With that Crowley hung up and Dean scowled at the phone before looking back at his archangels. "Any ideas?"  
  
"Unicorn blood is generally used in purification rituals, but those all require the blood to have been donated willingly by the unicorn," Michael stated.  
  
"Not all of them," Raphael countered, a troubled expression on his face. "Just the approved rituals."  
  
"Approved?" Dean asked, a bad feeling rising within him.  
  
"Yes. There are many Dark Arts uses for unicorn blood as well which don't require it to have been obtained from a willing donor," Castiel explained. "What are you thinking, Brother?"  
  
"Both the blood and the chalice of Saint John the Evangelist have purification properties," Raphael began before he looked right at Dean. "I fear that Lucifer might have found a way to overcome the Rite of Contressa by treating it as a curse or other taint to his Grace and dissolving it that way."  
  



	133. Chapter 132

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Samuel reads the Supernatural books.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
Samuel had always been grateful for the fact that he didn't need much sleep as it had allowed him to remain awake and alert on late-night hunts or to do a ton of research while others slept, but now he was grateful for it once more. Both that and the fact that the changes to the supernatural world meant that traditional research wasn't of much use anymore. He'd never have believed the latter would ever be true, but it was because of all the free time it provided him to read other things.  
  
Like the  _Supernatural_  books for instance.  
  
It was with a now seemingly constant state of shock and stunned disbelief that Samuel put down  _Swan Song_ , the last of the prophecy books that he'd bought. At first he'd tried reading them out of order, wanting to see how it was that his oldest grandson had come to be in the past the first time he'd met Dean, but it had rapidly become clear to him that he really needed to start at the beginning as  _In the Beginning_  had already been referring to things that he knew absolutely nothing about. So he'd reluctantly gone back to  _Supernatural_  and nearly been unable to get past the very first chapter.  
  
Sam had told him about what had happened to his Mary, but reading about the attack was somehow infinitely worse for Samuel. It was probably because it felt far more real with the detailed descriptions of events than it had from his grandson's recitation of events Sam hadn't even been old enough to recall first hand. Dean, however, Dean he was sure actually remembered what had happened that night. He knew it both from the drive he'd witnessed in Mary's firstborn when they'd gone after Azazel together and from the way that Dean acted in the later books of the series. He could remember enough of the child psychology his mother had studied to recognize the effects of that kind of trauma on a child's psyche. What he couldn't understand was how Sam had never seemed to notice.  
  
There wasn't enough of John in the books for Samuel to determine if his son-in-law had realized the truth but there was more than enough of Sam in there for him to know that his youngest grandson  _didn't_  realize it. Not with all of those 'Daddy's little soldier' accusations and questions of why Dean followed John so blindly. The poor boy had lost his mother under the most traumatic of circumstances and was subsequently thrust into a world full of danger and Darkness.  _Of course_  Dean had clung to the only parent he had left, especially after disobeying John once had nearly resulted in Sam's death. It took extraordinary circumstances or distance to break that kind of bond. So Sam's constant criticizing of his brother had never been fair.  
  
Samuel just didn't know if his youngest grandson realized that now or not. He wanted to think so, to think that Sam had learned from his mistakes, but he feared that just might simply not be the case. It had been difficult to read, but as he'd forced himself to do so with scenes like the confrontation in  _Asylum_  where Sam had actually shot his brother (with rock salt, true, but still!), or the standoff with the siren or even Sam's words during  _Fallen Idols_ , turning most of the blame around on his brother for what had happened with Ruby even while superficially denying it. With all of that it had become quite clear to him that his youngest grandson liked to shift the blame, not really taking responsibility for his own actions if at all possible. He just didn't get why Dean had allowed it time after time after time. He knew his eldest grandson had to have realized that those words, both in  _Asylum_  and with the siren, even if only uttered under supernatural influence, had to have come from somewhere. Sure, Sam probably never would have said them otherwise, but that didn't make them any less true for all of that.  
  
His old doctor would have had a fit if he'd been able to monitor him as he'd read these books, Samuel knew. His emotions and pulse had definitely been all over the place going from joy to disbelief to horror to anger to shock to pleasure to pride to rage and back again. Not to mention the sheer embarrassment and discomfort upon learning  _far_  more about the private activities and lives of his grandsons than he'd ever wanted to know. As Dean had said upon flipping through a few of the books himself, they were both full frontal in there on occasion and he hadn't always had enough warning to avoid learning something that he really hadn't wanted to know. Really.  
  
Samuel shuddered at the reminder of a few particular scenes and wondered once more at the audacity of the prophet to actually put that in print. It made him more than a little afraid of what he might find in the newer books when he got his hands on them. At least everything that he'd accidentally read so far had been between his grandsons and female, if not human, partners. This could now be with a male, non-human partner and he just wasn't sure if he could handle that. He was Dean's  _grandfather_  after all and there were simply some things you should never know about the sexual activities of your children's children.  
  
God he needed another drink.  
  
He'd needed a lot of drinks these past few nights, but Samuel hadn't realized how much he'd drunken already tonight until he grabbed the bottle of bourbon only to find it empty. Cursing, he pushed himself to his feet and went in search of another bottle. It caused his mind to flash to the image it had conjured when he'd read  _Dark Side of the Moon_  and the sheer amount of alcohol his grandsons had consumed had allowed them to be jumped by two other hunters, including the grandson of his old friend Gary. The reminder only wanted to make him drink even more as it was swiftly followed by not only the account of Sam and Dean's deaths but also by how that rat bastard Zachariah had twisted Dean's memory of his Mary into that venom spewing monster. He might never have seen his baby with her kids but he knew Mary would never have been able to do anything but love them unconditionally even if perhaps they wouldn't always have deserved it.  
  
The fact that Zachariah was already dead only gave Samuel a little satisfaction. The fact that Dean had been the one to kill his arrogant angelic ass provided a whole lot more but still it wasn't enough. Not nearly enough. Since he couldn't do anything about the douchebag angel, as his firstborn grandson would call Zachariah, he found the focus of his rage shifting once more towards Gary's grandson. How dare that boy kill not one but both of his grandsons? How  _dare_  he? If he ever crossed paths with that man then, grandson of his best friend or not, he would kill him. He swore he would, human and hunter or not, Walt didn't deserve to live after what he'd done to Mary's babies.  
  
Someone must have left something lying around as Samuel stumbled as he entered the kitchen and he nearly fell down, only just able to catch himself in time. He cursed and kicked out at whatever it had been but his aim must have been off as his foot didn't actually connect with anything. That was a little odd, but he pushed the thought aside as he stepped up to the cupboard where they kept the liquor. He really needed another glass more than ever now as thoughts of Mary had returned to him and he knew only all too well where those would lead.  
  
He'd thought that he'd known all that there was to know about what had happened to his precious daughter, but Samuel had learned how wrong he was about that. Not only had Sam either omitted or simply not know about certain horrific details, but his youngest grandson had also made no mention of encountering such a monsterized version of Mary in Heaven, let alone anything about the events from  _Home_. That could well be what pained him the most, the discovery that for decades after her murder his baby hadn't even been at rest but rather had been trapped as some kind of fire spirit in her old home. The mere thought that after all he and his family had done to help people and to lay spirits to rest his own daughter had been left like that, stuck in limbo, was almost unbearable. At least she hadn't turned vengeful but that was of little consolation.  
  
And then of course there was all that he'd learned in  _My Bloody Valentine_ , something else which Samuel did his utmost best not to dwell on too deeply but which his mind inevitably went back to. Namely the fact that his little girl had been influenced into loving John Winchester by a Cupid. He was a little unclear as to whether they would have ended up together regardless of the angel's interference or whether there was nothing there without the Enochian magic, but either way he found it unsupportable. Especially since things had clearly not been perfect between the two if Dean's memories from Heaven were anything to go by. As a parent the mere idea infuriated him but his anger was always,  _distracted_ , by the nagging fear that if the Cupids had put John and Mary together in order to get Dean and Sam, then had his own feelings towards Deanna been angelically influenced? Would they have ended up together otherwise? He really wanted to think so, but given the lengths that the angels had gone to, he doubted that they'd left it to chance.  
  
So how could he remain furious at them for what they'd done to Mary without seriously devaluing everything that he'd had with Deanna?  
  
The sudden bright illumination of the kitchen made Samuel cry out in surprise as he shielded his eyes.  
  
"I thought so," Gwen stated, her voice far too loud.  
  
"Gwen?" Samuel questioned, turning around and squinting in the direction of her voice.  
  
His imagination wasn't playing tricks on him and Samuel caught sight of Christian standing beside her. Both were looking at him with concerned frowns and he suddenly wondered just what he looked like. Though he'd always been able to run on very little sleep, he'd been pushing it the past few nights in order to read as many of the books as possible. So it was entirely possible that he didn't look all that great. And just how much bourbon had he drunk already tonight? He wasn't quite sure anymore.  
  
"Jesus, look at you," Gwen muttered. "This has got to stop."  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"She's right, Samuel, you can't keep going like this. It's not going to bring Mark back and will only get yourself or one of us killed as well," Christian stated.  
  
"Huh? Mark, what?" Samuel asked, confused, before he got it. "Oh, no, it's not that."  
  
It actually pained Samuel a little to admit, at least to himself, how little Mark's death had affected him. Sure, he'd liked the younger man but the connection hadn't been so great and with the loss of Mary and the fact that Dean was still out there, away from them, it just didn't mean that much to him.  
  
"Then what is it?" Gwen demanded. "Because it looks like you're trying to drink yourself to death. Well, another death anyway."  
  
"I- it's-" Samuel began before he realized just how crazy this would sound. "Come see for yourself."  
  
With that Samuel made to walk past them, brushing up against them far more than he'd intended to, and made his way back to his room. He'd taken special care to keep the books hidden and out of sight up until now, especially from Sam and Bobby as he'd wanted to have read them all at least once before having to put up with any complaints or protests about his having gotten them. It wasn't that he didn't understand why they might be adverse to his reading them (heck  _he_  didn't like how much of him had been revealed in just the one book that he'd been in to date and he had a sneaking suspicion that he'd be in far more of the latest ones) but just that he firmly believed that he had to read them. They could hardly afford to shy away from anything that could help them, now could they?  
  
"Samuel, what is this all about?" Christian asked as they followed him.  
  
"You'll have to see it to believe it."  
  
"Try me."  
  
"Fine. During one of our last hunts Sam took Bobby and me to the house of a prophet."  
  
"A prophet?" Gwen repeated. "Is he for real?"  
  
"Definitely."  
  
"I wouldn't have taken you for someone to believe in that nonsense," Christian stated.  
  
"Trust me, I've had all the proof that I need to know that he's the real deal."  
  
"You met him?" Gwen asked.  
  
"No, he wasn't home, but I've read most of his work, including parts that had me in it. You see, the prophet gets visions of Sam and Dean and because he was unaware of what he was, he assumed that he'd made everything up and he wrote it all down and sold it as fiction."  
  
"Fiction?" Christian demanded skeptically.  
  
"Yes, here, see for yourself," Samuel replied, opening the door to his room.  
  
The books were scattered all across his bed, their various sordid covers in clear view and each brought up flashes of scenes that Samuel had pictured while reading them. Most were unpleasant, each wound and hit his grandsons took somehow striking him as well through the words of the prophet. They weren't particularly well written, but the fact that he knew that each one was true added a force to them that the writing didn't possess on its own. Sam losing his girlfriend, Dean getting taken by the wendigo, Dean getting branded with a hot iron, Sam getting grabbed by that vampire, Dean being cut by Azazel while possessing John... the list went on and on, horrifying in both its length and the breadth of injuries that had befallen the boys.  
  
"What are these, bodice rippers?" Christian sneered, picking up  _Supernatural_.  
  
"Don't let the cover deceive you, the artist is merely atrocious," Samuel stated.  
  
"Don't judge a book by its cover?" Gwen questioned with amusement as she held up one of the books that Samuel had done his best to forget.  
  
Honestly, if brain bleach were real, Samuel would have used it to forget what he'd read in that book. The fact that it had Dean shirtless on the cover with a girl really should have been his first clue, but he'd been so focused on his task that he'd forgotten to be careful while reading it and he'd regretted it ever since. To be fair, though, did people really do stuff like that outside of fiction? He'd just always assumed it was guys running off their mouths and exaggerating to boast to their friends. Not so, obviously, as he'd had the great misfortune of learning that his firstborn grandson not only did it, but frequently enough to excel at it.  
  
Oh yes, brain bleach would be greatly appreciated right about now.  
  
In a desperate attempt to wipe the image from his mind, Samuel focused in on the bad stuff. Like when Sam had shot Dean with rock salt, or when Sam had broken his arm, or those kids the boys had failed to save, or Dean getting torn to shreds by the hellhound. The last made the bile rise in his throat and it was all that he could do not to be sick. Now was not the time, not that there ever was one really. At least he was now well and truly distracted from the mental images he'd had no wish to ever think about again.  
  
"You're saying that these are all real?" Christian demanded, still sounding skeptical.  
  
"Yes," Samuel replied, digging for the one he wanted. "And here's my proof."  
  
" _In the Beginning_ ," Gwen read, flipping it over to read the synopsis on the back, her eyebrows rising. "You're in this one."  
  
"Like I said, I know that they're the real deal because of that. This is the book that covers the time Castiel took Dean back to nineteen seventy-three, where I first met him, though I was unaware of who exactly he was at the time."  
  
"So it's real? All of its really real? All of these books?"  
  
"Yes," Samuel confirmed again, more than understanding her shock and disbelief.  
  
"How many are there?" Christian asked, grabbing the book Gwen held to see it for himself. "There must be eighty of them here."  
  
"A hundred and four, actually, and that's not even all of them. The store I went to didn't have the last eleven as they'd sold out."  
  
"A hundred and fifteen books?" Gwen uttered, grabbing some at random and glancing at the back covers. "How much time does this cover?"  
  
"Some five and half years as near as I can tell, though there are parts that go back a lot earlier. The first book has a chapter from the night Mary died before it jumps to when Dean got Sam from Stanford to go look for John."  
  
"And it's all in here? Everything that we've heard about?" Christian demanded.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"So, the whole Ruby thing too?" Gwen asked.  
  
"It is," Samuel confirmed, the maelstrom of emotions he'd felt whenever reading about her and Sam resurfacing within him once more.  
  
He'd hoped, oh so desperately hoped, that he'd be able to understand just what the boy had been thinking after he'd read about what had happened, to gain some inkling of what had lead up to that situation, but Samuel had been severely disappointed. All he'd found was one brother completely ignoring and writing off the other's warnings and intuition of what was going on. Despite everything that had ever happened to Sam, all of his experiences with demons before and all of Dean's fears about Ruby, his youngest grandson had fallen head over heels into her trap. Her  _obvious_  trap as far as he was concerned. Hell, Dean had even told Sam to his face that she was just using him and still Sam hadn't been able to see the truth that was staring him in the face. Needlessly to say, Ruby was a touchy subject for him and one that made him question if he could trust Sam's judgment at all.  
  
"It is not complimentary for Sam," Samuel added thickly.  
  
"Could it be anything else?" Christian snorted. "She was a demon, end of story, and somehow he thought it a good idea to fuck her and suck her blood? That's just the epitome of stupidity."  
  
"Are they worth reading?" Gwen inquired, looking up.  
  
"The later ones definitely are as they describe how this whole Apocalypse thing got started," Samuel said. "Plus I still want to get my hands on the most recent books as I feel that they'll tell us a lot more about the current situation. From what the prophet's former girlfriend said, they go right up to the casting of this Rite of Contressa that Dean mentioned."  
  
"Dean," Christian sneered. "Of course."  
  
"I think you'd be surprised if you read the books. Apparently Sam has been very deceived about his brother's skill if he truly thinks that he's the better hunter of the two of them."


	134. Chapter 133

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I fear that Lucifer might have found a way to overcome the Rite of Contressa.

  
**PAST**  
  
  
 _I fear that Lucifer might have found a way to overcome the Rite of Contressa._  
  
The words kept echoing around and around in Dean's head ever since Raphael had first uttered them while deep in the Vatican Archives yesterday. He'd always known that the Rite of Contressa was never meant to be a permanent solution to their problems- hell it had never even been a particularly great one as Lucifer had proven when he'd obliterated the Devil's Island and the islands surrounding it in French Guiana- but he'd always hoped that it would take Lucifer longer to break it than this. Or at least to find a way to break it as the devil hadn't done it just yet, but he was sure that the actual act wasn't far off. Oh he wanted to be optimistic and believe that they'd find a way to prevent it, but he'd never been able to simply ignore reality like that.  
  
The simple fact of the matter was that they didn't have a clue what Lucifer and Simiel had planned and therefore, short of being lucky, they had no way to mount a good defense against it. No, the most that they could do was hope that they heard of another ingredient the two archangels needed and try to obtain it first. That was all and it was driving Dean absolutely nuts. He  _hated_  just waiting around for bad shit to happen but that seemed like all that they could do at the moment. His archangels had scoured the library of Heaven for any clue as to what Simiel might have thought of but they had come up empty.  
  
All they knew was that Simiel was most likely the mastermind behind this particular plan. Raphael definitely recalled Simiel and Jophiel discussing the Rite of Contressa long ago and so Dean was pretty sure that whatever Lucifer was planning now had been thought of by Simiel based on that prior knowledge of the Rite. If only Jophiel were still alive to tell them what they'd talked about as she was the only other angel who might have an inkling of exactly what Simiel wanted to do now and what other ingredients she might need for her plan.  
  
 _I fear that Lucifer might have found a way to overcome the Rite of Contressa._  
  
Just as before, the frustration welled up within Dean and he resisted the temptation to put his fist through the nearest wall. Not only had he managed not to do that for months, but this time he'd also have to pay for it instead of just slipping away before the motel owners realized what he'd done. And as if that wasn't bad enough in and of itself, the frustration was also awakening another long latent vice of his. Namely the desire to drink. Excessively. He gritted his teeth at the thought, determined  _not_  to give in to that particular longing. He'd sooner punch the wall even though he knew that one would hurt more.  
  
He'd promised Castiel he wouldn't drink like that again and Dean was absolutely determined not to break that promise. He wouldn't do that to his lover. Castiel had given him far too much and done far more for him, for him to even think about betraying his angel like that. No matter how strong the desire to drink until he was blind drunk might get. It was the thoughts of Sam that were bringing it all back to him now, he knew. He'd never given how easily he'd walked away from that particular habit much thought and even when he had pondered it in passing, he'd always assumed that Castiel'd had something to do with it, had mojoed him somehow, but now he knew better. It wasn't that it had been wiped from him but rather that his whole new situation had made it easier to break that bad habit. Thinking, and worrying, about Sam now due to the Rite of Contressa was putting him back in his old mindset and that was making him crave alcoholic bliss and escape once more.  
  
Despite himself, Dean couldn't help but feel a bit proud at this revelation. The knowledge that it hadn't been Castiel who'd made him stop drinking by working some of his mojo, but rather that it was he himself who'd broken the habit warmed him in a way he wasn't at all familiar with. It was an accomplishment he supposed was something he'd never even thought he'd be able to succeed in. Sure, he'd always known that he was good at certain things, but willpower had never been on that list and he felt that he had plenty of reasons to always have thought so, but clearly he'd missed something. Well, either that or he'd just never had the right motivation to succeed in that particular area before. After all, his lover and all that they had was plenty of incentive as far as he was concerned. In fact he was pretty sure that his angel wouldn't be at all pleased with the lengths that he'd go or the things that he'd do for it. For  _them_.  
  
Though, to be fair, Dean was pretty sure that the reverse was also true and he tried not to think too closely on what that could mean for an angel, or no, an  _arch_ angel. The power that Castiel possessed these days was mindboggling to the extent that even with all of his experience with Michael, he wasn't entirely sure that he understood it. Wasn't even sure if a human  _could_ , or should, be able to comprehend that kind of power.  
  
He was brooding, Dean realized with a start. Was that better or worse than the fretting he'd been doing earlier? He wasn't entirely sure. Either way, neither was a particularly good or productive use of his time. Not that he was sure he could handle much more research at the moment. He'd already spent most of the day doing precisely that and he was pretty much researched out. The chances of them suddenly finding something now of all times was slim to none and he'd never believed in miracles so that left very little for him to work with or to drive him on. For all they knew Simiel had already collected all that she needed and was even now performing the counter to the Rite of Contressa. Or perhaps she already had done it, though he'd have expected Lucifer to have done some 'celebrating' already if that were the case. Not that the devil hadn't surprised him before, so anything was possible.  
  
 _I fear that Lucifer might have found a way to overcome the Rite of Contressa._  
  
Without really thinking about it, Dean found that he'd pulled out his cell phone and his fingers were toying with it of their own accord, hovering over the newest speed dial he'd programmed into his cell just the other day. After Raphael's words had abruptly forced him to think about his brother again, he'd realized that he didn't even know what Sam's new number was as neither his brother nor Bobby had ever bothered to contact him after Sam's unexpected return from Hell. That realization had been followed closely by the realization of just how long it had been since he'd last heard from Bobby. After Castiel had told him the truth about their betrayals he'd never bothered to call the older hunter again and slowly, over the course of the ensuing months, Bobby's calls had gotten less and less frequent until now nearly a month passed between calls and he couldn't help but think bitterly about how the old man could possibly think that this is what he'd have wanted. Had they really known him so little?  
  
Dean pushed the thought aside as soon as it entered his head. He'd learned the hard way not to dwell on those types of dark thoughts too much as nothing good ever came of it. No instead he'd much rather think about what he had now and those who  _did_  know him. Castiel, Michael and, surprisingly, Raphael. Though he'd never have believed it possible, he'd discovered that those three were more than enough for him. Hell, he'd be perfectly content with just his lover, the other two were merely icing on the cake, not that he'd give them up for anything, it was just that Castiel alone would be able to make him happier than he'd ever been before in his life and he damn well knew it. It was the only reason that he'd been able to handle this new Apocalypse so well despite everything that had happened and all of the bitter disappointments and betrayals along the way. And look, there was almost no alcohol involved except that which even his angel didn't find fault with!  
  
The sense of pride in his own accomplishments was back and Dean allowed himself to bask in it for a while. He suspected that he could learn to get used to this type of feeling if he allowed himself to. Not that it would ever be easy to achieve regularly, but still. Maybe he was too harsh on himself at times?  
  
The sudden ringing of the phone, loud in the otherwise silent room, startled Dean and he nearly dropped his cell. As it was, he fumbled with it before lifting it. He wasn't sure what made him look at the caller ID as he hardly ever did, but he froze when he saw the name displayed there.  
  
 _Sam_.  
  
The hairs on the back of Dean's neck stood on end and he felt himself tense up. What the hell was going on here? After nearly a year of not contacting him, his brother chose now of all times to do so? Right when he'd spent more time thinking about the little bitch than he had in months? Surely that was too much of a coincidence. And yet, despite all that, there was his brother's name, those three letters, on the screen of his cell. The shock kept him frozen so long that his phone went silent again and he waited with bated breath to see if Sam would leave him a voicemail, but the beep that signalled an unheard message never came. He snorted, that figured. Whatever his brother had wanted to talk to him about couldn't have been all that important.  
  
Or no, wait, that might not be it at all, Dean realized with a start. It had been so long that he'd forgotten that, as far as Sam was concerned, he didn't know that his little brother had gotten out of Hell. So perhaps Sam didn't want him to discover that from a recorded message on his phone? It would have been a shock, if he hadn't known any better. Not that picking up his cell to suddenly hear his little brother's voice on the other end wouldn't have been anything other than a shock either, regardless of whether he'd not known anything about Sam's miraculous return or not. He could only be thankful that he hadn't simply answered the phone without checking the caller ID first. And not only that, but if it had happened before yesterday even checking the ID wouldn't have helped as he hadn't known Sam's new number. No, he'd only gotten that from Father Mancini at the Vatican the day before, right after Raphael's revelation. It had made him suddenly aware of the fact that he  _didn't_  know his little brother's new number. Luckily clown guy's thorough background checks had come in handy there.  
  
It was an irony that Dean could appreciate even if he'd felt incredibly awkward asking them to see his brother's file. He hadn't quite been able to admit that he didn't know Sam's number and had instead made it sound like he was curious to see what they'd managed to unearth about his brother. Like he was testing how good their information network really was. It had been an eye-opener even after all that he knew they'd uncovered about him and once again he'd found himself really glad that they were on his side instead of against him. He was also really hoping that the whole 'archangels at his back' thing was enough to keep them from digging into his own past and what he was up to now as otherwise things might get more than a little heated real fast. But Michael's admonishment and order to stop prying into his personal life should be enough to keep them from doing so. Right?  
  
Dean sighed, not at all sure that it would be. At least not indirectly. He doubted clown guy would directly defy such a command from the lead archangel himself, but he knew that there were only all too many ways for things to come to light. Like whatever had suddenly convinced his brother to reach out to him now of all times. It was probably for the best as he'd need to contact Sam and the Campbells and warn them if Lucifer and Simiel really managed to break the Rite of Contressa, but he didn't actually  _want_  to speak with his brother. It was a startling revelation, but one he was sure of when he thought about it. After all that had happened over the course of the past year, he was far from ready to forgive Sam his betrayals and he was more than a little afraid that he'd fall back into his old pattern of letting his brother get away with things with little more than a handy excuse and a puppy dog look.  
  
 _No!_  
  
He  _wouldn't_  let that happen, not this time. Dean knew it would be hard, but this time he'd stand by his resolve. Too often in the past he'd allowed Sam to get away with things, but not anymore. He didn't  _need_  his little brother like he'd used to and it was high time he stood up for himself. It was a surprising realization, but he'd become his own person in a way that he'd never been before, back when his whole world had revolved around his father and brother. In getting away from them and spending time with people who actually put him and his needs first, he'd grown into himself and learned that his own needs were important too, though it had taken seeing them be important to others to finally get that through his own thick skull.  
  
He smiled a little at the thought before it vanished as his cell started to ring again. A quick glance down showed that, yes, it really was his brother again. What on Earth could Sam possibly want now after nearly a year of silence? The timing of it sucked as- It was with a start that he suddenly realized that no, it hadn't been nearly a year, it was  _over_  a year ago that his brother had gotten out of Hell. Heck, now that he thought about it, he realized that it had been over a year since he'd been kicked out of Lisa's. In fact it had been round about this time last year that Castiel had come flying back into his life.  
  
The realization stunned Dean. Had it really been that long ago now? It was hard to believe but it was actually true now that he thought about it. On the one hand he couldn't quite believe it, but on the other it seemed like a year couldn't possibly be all that it had taken for all those events to have transpired. If Castiel's return really was about the one year mark then it meant that everything that had happened between them, not to mention his awareness of the fact that the Apocalypse wasn't over or Michael and Raphael's return into his life and all of that had transpired in the space of merely a year. That was almost just as hard to believe and the duality made his headache a little. Or, well, that could just be the incessant ringing of his phone. It seemed that now Sam wasn't even bothering to listen to his answering machine, just cutting the connection and calling right back.  
  
Trust his little brother to be so damn persistent. Of course Sam would do all that he could to contact Dean now that his little brother had decided that he wanted to talk to him. Well Sam would just have to take a good strong dose of his own medicine and wait until  _he_  was good and ready to speak with the little brat. The amount of satisfaction that rose within him at that was more than he really should be feeling, but he couldn't find it in him to care. If Sam'd had his way, then he'd not have known that his brother was out of Hell for over a year after Sam had gotten out! The mere thought of having felt all of that guilt and helplessness for all of that time, not to even mention all of the nightmares and pain he'd have suffered, was more than enough to make him feel ill and it only hardened his resolve to not cave to his brother's incessant demands right now.  
  
God only knew what he'd have done in any number of countless, stupid attempts to rescue a brother that didn't even need rescuing anymore. Dean shuddered at the thought, recalling just how dark his thoughts had been back then. If Castiel hadn't returned when he had then it was entirely possible that he wouldn't have been alive now to even get Sam's calls. If he hadn't gotten himself killed in some reckless attempt to save his brothers from the cage, then he'd probably have died on some random hunt, either too inebriated or simply too far gone to react in time, especially with the way the rules had all changed in the supernatural world. It wasn't a pleasant realization and he was infinitely thankful that none of that had come to pass. He'd always known that he owed his lover more than he could ever repay, but it wasn't until now that he realized exactly how much.  
  
Almost as if summoned by the thought, Castiel appeared in the room with a flutter of wings and Dean reacted entirely on instinct. His heart always did some kind of funny roll within his chest upon catching sight of his lover, but now it was even more pronounced than normal and he allowed it to lead him into stepping towards his angel and pulling him close.  
  
"Cas," Dean whispered fiercely, tightening his arms well past the point he'd dare to with a human.  
  
"Dean," Castiel replied, clearly startled and taking a moment to react before returning the embrace.  
  
"I love you."  
  
The declaration was spoken into the side of his angel's neck as Dean refused to let go just yet, overwhelmed by the rush of emotions within him. He was acting dangerously close to a chick, but right now he didn't give a fuck. Not after all that he'd just realized and come to terms with. Castiel had saved him in so many ways that there was no way to count them all and then, on top of all of that, his angel had given him more than he'd ever dared hope for. If that didn't deserve some serious chick-flick moments, then nothing ever would. Ironically enough, his words and actions seemed to alarm his lover as Castiel's touch when his angel rested a hand on the back of his head was far too gentle, as if Castiel were afraid that at any moment he'd break apart into a hundred tiny pieces.  
  
"Are you alright, Dean?" Castiel questioned softly as his wings closed around them, providing both shelter and comfort at once.  
  
"Yeah, just give me a moment."  
  
The solace of the embrace was abruptly shattered as his phone started to ring again and Dean growled. He actually growled!  
  
"Dean?"  
  
"Sam, it's Sam," Dean spat. "Guess he wants something from me now."  
  
The arms around him tightened and his lover's wings trembled and Dean had the crazy thought that Castiel was about to whisk him away somewhere. If they didn't have the Apocalypse to worry about and the planet to save, he'd be all for something as drastic as that if it meant that he didn't have to worry about all of this now.  
  
"Do you want to speak with him?" Castiel asked quietly and Dean knew what that had to cost his angel.  
  
There was absolutely no way that his lover wanted him to speak with Sam, but Castiel was leaving it up to him nonetheless and Dean loved him all the more for it. That was one of the biggest differences between his angels and Sam and Bobby. His archangels would always let him choose even if they might want to do so for him if only to spare him the pain. But they wouldn't, they'd come to learn exactly how much he valued his free will and had come to respect that in a way his own brother obviously never had.  
  
"No," Dean stated firmly.  
  
"Then don't."  
  
Those two little words were so easily said and yet they went against years' worth of training and conditioning and Dean still struggled with that on some level despite how much he wanted not to. "I'll have to speak with him sooner or later."  
  
"Yes, but it need not be now if you do not wish it to be."  
  
"But what if he's in trouble and that's why he's calling after all of this time?"  
  
"I have already sent Xarael to check and she says he is no danger."  
  
The words rendered Dean speechless and he pulled back to look at his lover. He really shouldn't still be surprised by how well Castiel knew him after all of this time, but he couldn't help it. There were some things he clearly still needed to work on even if he could finally start to see just how far he'd come already. Unable to find the words he wanted, he leaned in close and kissed Castiel instead, slow and deep, before resting their foreheads together.  
  
"Thanks, Cas."  
  
"It is my pleasure, Dean."


	135. Chapter 134

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean, in his new life, was completely vulnerable and the perfect target.

**PAST**  
  
  
It was with a smile, and a growing sense of hunger, that Dean pulled into the parking lot of the Irish pub two towns over from his own. He hadn't quite been able to believe his good luck when he'd first found it, because seriously, a place that served great beer, good food, a variety of cocktails and had pool tables? It had seemed almost too good to be true and he'd wasted no time dragging Castiel along to sample their cocktails. It had become a regular haunt of theirs ever since when they needed some time away from the books and research to eat and relax.  
  
Tonight Dean wasn't intending to do as much of the latter as he'd already spent most of the day out of the apartment and knew that he really had to get back there, but he couldn't concentrate on an empty stomach and he didn't feel like cooking. So here he was instead, ready to enjoy a warm meal and have a beer to celebrate the hunt he'd just finished. It had been a relatively simple haunting about fifty miles out, but the ghost had been learning quickly and he'd wanted to deal with it before things escalated to the point of someone dying. Besides, he'd already taken care of everything else supernatural and evil in the immediate area and had been spending far too little time worrying about the more mundane side of hunting. It had felt good to rectify that even if it was only just for today. It reminded him of how things had used to be and how much he'd enjoyed simply being able to help people.  
  
The Carlisle family had definitely been grateful enough to him when he'd ganked their ghost. Dean had hoped to get there before they'd learned the truth about what was out there, but he'd heard about the case too late so instead he had to contend himself with the knowledge that they knew how to take basic precautions against the supernatural from now on. That had to count for something after all.  
  
"Hey, Dean."  
  
"Tom," Dean greeted, glancing over the Impala as he locked her to one of the locals he'd come to know. "How are you?"  
  
"Good, good, gotta get home though. You?"  
  
"Excellent."  
  
"Glad to hear it."  
  
"I'll see you around."  
  
"Yeah, goodnight."  
  
"Night," Dean replied before heading towards the pub's main entrance.  
  
It still felt odd to stay in one place long enough to actually get to know people, but Dean was starting to get used to it. He'd originally intended to keep to himself as it seemed easier than getting involved in things, but that had all ended when Dirk had called him out on the longing looks he kept giving the pool tables and challenged him to a game. Despite what he'd thought, he'd found that he actually enjoyed the game a lot more now that he wasn't hustling than he ever had before. Between Dirk's own skill and the fact that he didn't need to con his opponent into believing that he was a lot worse of a player than he really was, he'd been able to play to the best of his ability and that was exhilarating. Oh, sure, he still occasionally dumbed things down a bit or even threw the odd game but only ever to give his opponents a chance if they weren't quite as good and just because he knew nobody liked an undefeatable opponent.  
  
Not that he had to do that frequently. It seemed this town had a very decent pool club of which Dirk was the vice president and Dean had been invited to join more than once. Even though he'd turned the offer down repeatedly, none of the members seemed to take offense and still allowed him to play with them when he had the time. Dirk and some of the other enjoyed the challenge he provided while he was pretty sure the rest of them simply liked watching their best get trounced from time to time. It evened things out for everyone and he got some great games out of it so he was more than happy with the arrangement.  
  
The smile that had crossed his face at the memories of trying to teach his lover the game and the satisfaction of a hunt well ended both vanished as soon as Dean stepped into the pub.  
  
Something wasn't right here.  
  
Something was wrong, very wrong.  
  
The feeling was so strong and hit him so hard that Dean half expected to look around and find the place in shambles with bodies everywhere, but instead everything looked normal. What the hell? A frown crossed his face as he did another sweep of the place, but everything seemed normal at first glance. Not that it meant much as he knew only all too well how deceiving looks could be. Instead he stayed on high alert as he crossed over to the bar and smiled at Harry.  
  
"Evening, Dean, what'll it be tonight?"  
  
"Surprise me," Dean replied, being careful to keep his face friendly and open. "Got any specials food wise?"  
  
"Sure," Harry stated, grabbing a glass and moving to one of the many taps to get him his beer. "Got in a shipment of haddock so we've got fish and chips."  
  
"Fish and chips?"  
  
"Fish is beer battered."  
  
"Really? Now that I have to try."  
  
Dean paid for his food and beer before heading towards the empty table he'd spotted along the far wall of the pub. It wasn't where he'd normally sit, but it would let him put his back to the wall and take in his surroundings without looking like he was suspicious of anything. Between his gun (loaded with silver bullets as the norm these days, what with werewolves popping up everywhere now that their changes seemed disjointed from the lunar cycle), the demon-killing knife and the Jewel of Abel he was well armed, but his total lack of knowledge about what he might be facing here and the sheer number of people present combined to make him cautious. The last thing he wanted was to spook whatever was here into attacking. Still, he couldn't just ignore it either as for all he knew whatever it was that had sent his spidey sense into overdrive was trawling for its next victim and he'd let that happen over his dead body. No way was anything hunting in his own backyard if he had anything to say about it!  
  
At the table, Dean took his seat and leaned back in the chair to look as nonchalant as it was possible to get, letting his eyes roam about as if bored or absentminded. Although he came here quite often, it wasn't nearly enough to tell on sight who was a less frequent customer and who might be new, which unfortunately hampered his efforts at identifying the source of his unease. He was just trying to figure out what the best course of action would be when his eye landed on a guy and he just  _knew_  that the man wasn't human. He wasn't sure what it was about the guy as he couldn't pin it down, but he was totally sure that he was right. Given that he hadn't pegged the copniry succubus nearly as easily or as confidently, he couldn't help but wonder if his ability to do so now was angelically influenced. He definitely wouldn't mind if having had Michael in him a few times had led to his being able to sense the supernatural more easily and accurately.  
  
The lack of anything obviously supernatural, even to his expert eye, did mean that Dean was unable to figure out what he was dealing with here. It was hard to decide what to do without at least some idea of what he was dealing with. For one, it meant that he didn't have the first clue as to whether he should act now or simply hang back and observe the thing, whatever it was. The latter was by far the more preferable option given the sheer number of people around them, but he could hardly afford to wait if it was hunting here. The fact that there hadn't been any unusual deaths in the area did nothing to allay his fears as some creatures were smarter than to leave such an immediately obvious trail. Or the nature of their attacks simply meant that there  _wasn't_  a body left over at the end of it to be found by anyone.  
  
So, overall, the lack of a body trail wasn't much help to Dean even if it did rule out a few possibilities. It was as he was unobtrusively watching the creature that he caught sight of the second one as she approached the guy and spoke softly with him. It was only due to years' worth of covert observations, of both creatures and people of interest, that he was able to look away nonchalantly just before they both turned in his direction. Using the mirror behind the bar as a means of keeping an eye on them, he had to suppress a smile when he saw that they were clearly focusing on him. Sure he didn't like the idea that they might have come here after him, but it did give him an idea of how to deal with the situation in a way that was unlikely to result in any accidental casualties.  
  
Mind made up, Dean pushed himself to his feet just as the woman started to make her way towards him. Okay, so she was most likely supposed to be bait. Either they had some knowledge of what he'd used to be like or they were just hoping that a pretty woman would be able to worm her way past his defenses long enough in order to either incapacitate him or to lure him to wherever they wanted him. Well neither option was going to work today. No, today they were going to have to follow him to where  _he_  wanted them. He gave Harry a quick smile when the bartender caught his eye and nodded towards the restroom so that they wouldn't wonder where he'd gotten to if his food was ready before he got back.  
  
Dean slipped into the short hallway leading to the toilets and then ran for the fire exit at the far end. He'd used it often enough before to know that it spilt out into a dark alley which would suit his needs perfectly just now. He used his foot to keep the door open while he fished out his lighter and waited. Just as the door at the other end of the hall opened, he allowed his door to close, timing it just right so that they'd be able to catch sight of him while he pretended to light a cigarette. With any luck they'd assume he'd stepped out for a smoke and follow him out. As soon as the door was closed, he stepped back and started reaching for his gun before he stopped and considered the metal pipes sticking out of the dumpster next to him. They looked old and had probably been ripped out of a wall as part of the renovations going on next door, but would still suit his purposes perfectly. It would also have the added bonus of being quieter than his colt and he might be able to cause more damage if those two happened to be immune to silver.  
  
Decision made, Dean grabbed the longest length of pipe and moved to stand partially behind the door just as it started to open. He held the pipe so it would be hidden by his body and kept up the pretense of smoking, glancing back over his shoulder at the creature.  
  
"Hey," she greeted with a smile. "I thought I saw someone come out here."  
  
He tried to look guilty as he shrugged. "Yeah, needed a smoke."  
  
"Do you have any extras?"  
  
His instincts kicked into overdrive as she stepped closer to him, her arm extended, and Dean knew that he wouldn't be able to wait as long as he'd planned to. He'd hoped to wait until they were both outside in order to minimize any chances of someone overhearing what was going on and to prevent them from just turning tail and making their escape through the pub. Oh well, it wasn't like he never improvised and this was precisely why he couldn't be bothered to plan things out half the time anyway; things never went as they should, so why bother trying anyway?  
  
Dean swung around suddenly, striking out with the pipe and catching her full upside the head and knocking her back and down with a startled and pained cry. He then used his momentum to shoulder the door and shove it shut just as the second creature was coming through it, slamming him into the doorframe. The crunching of bone and accompanying scream told him that he'd scored a significant hit, but he didn't stop to congratulate himself or gloat. Instead he turned his attention back to the woman and therefore managed to jump aside as she lunged at him. Her charge took her straight into the door, further injuring her companion and he laughed.  
  
"Thanks for that, sweetheart," Dean couldn't resist taunting.  
  
"You'll pay for that," she snarled, turning to face him. "Just like you'll pay for what you did to our father."  
  
"Father?" Dean questioned, suddenly realizing that this wasn't random. While he'd figured out that they were targeting him, he had still just assumed that it was a case of them having recognized him for what he was and deciding to take him out. Obviously he'd been mistaken there as her words indicated that this was far more personal than that. It sounded like vengeance, not that knowing that helped matters any. "You're gonna have to be a little more specific than that, I'm afraid, 'cause I've ganked far too many monsters to know who you're talking about."  
  
She snarled at him again, her eyes taking on a blue glow while movement on her arms made Dean look down and catch sight of the tattoos extending down her arms as he watched. Oh shit, djinn! His mind instantly flashed back four or five years to the last time he'd dealt with one of those creatures and the fantasy world he'd been cast into when the thing had overpowered him. He had the brief thought that he should have realized then what was to come with Sam given how even in his perfect fantasy life he'd known that they'd be estranged from each other, but then he shoved it aside and dodged the next attack of the djinn he was facing now.  
  
"Oh, I see. I take it that djinn Sammy and I ganked was your pops," Dean taunted. "He didn't put up much of a fight at all. Was he always that pathetic or did we catch him on a bad day?"  
  
Her next attack was fueled completely by rage and Dean was not only able to avoid it, but catch her full on with the pipe and send her crashing into the wall of the alley. Although he didn't have any lamb's blood on him, he did have silver and it was as he was reaching for his gun so that he could significantly weaken her that he heard the rushing of footsteps behind him. They caught him off-guard as they were coming from the opposite direction of the male djinn who he'd been careful to keep an eye on throughout the fight. He flung himself to the side but wasn't completely able to avoid the attack, taking a blow to his upper body that sent him stumbling.  
  
Dean let the momentum take him down so that he rolled and was able to come up with his gun drawn. He spared a split second to make sure that the man rushing towards him was also a djinn before he fired, twice to the heart and once to the head. The guy went down hard but he knew it wasn't permanent, not without the lamb's blood. He tried to turn so he could shoot the female again, but she ran into him before he could level his colt at her and they went down in a tangle of limbs. He dropped his gun in favor of catching her wrists, remembering only all too well what happened when a djinn got their bare hands on you.  
  
"I'll kill you!" she snarled at him, trying to force her hands down.  
  
Instead of replying, Dean just grunted, resisting her movement but only just. Shit she was strong! He was just debating calling for some backup when the door to the pub opened and the first djinn he'd spotted stepped out. Well fuck, that decided things for him.  
  
"Mike," Dean said. "Need a little help down here."  
  
The djinn above him gave him an odd look before opening her mouth, no doubt to promise him an ugly death or whatnot, before her eyes went wide and she screamed as her whole body glowed before seeming to burst into flame. Dean gave a startled cry of his own, moving to release her wrists, but it was already too late as they erupted behind his hands. Instead of burning him as he'd expected, he felt an intimately familiar power wash over him through his hands that he instantly recognized.  
  
"Michael."  
  
"Hello, Little One," Michael replied glancing down at him before vanishing, probably in pursuit of the first djinn who'd taken off running.  
  
Somewhat startled by what had happened, Dean nonetheless jumped to his feet and grabbed for his gun. He then turned and shot the last djinn a few more times as it tried to stand. "Stay down!"  
  
"Is this the last one?" Michael inquired as he returned in a flutter of wings and took care of Dean's captive.  
  
"Yep," Dean confirmed.  
  
"I am surprised they dared to hunt so close to the home of a hunter."  
  
"Oh they weren't here by chance. They were after me."  
  
"You? Why?"  
  
"I killed their father a few years ago on a hunt with Sam."  
  
"Then they should have known better to take you on, even with greater numbers."  
  
Dean laughed. "Arrogance has been the downfall of many a creature or person. Pride before the fall and all of that. Now, I've got dinner waiting for me inside and I've definitely worked up an appetite for it. How about joining me and trying some damn good beer?"  
  
"Why would I wish to consume fermented wheat?"  
  
"Oh those are fighting words!"


	136. Chapter 135

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raphael tries something different based on a prayer.

**PAST**  
  
  
Ever since he'd first started spending time with Dean and Castiel, there had been one human voice that Raphael seemed to be unable to filter out as well as the others when it prayed to him. Well, if it could even be called prayer, he definitely didn't think that it was nearly respectful or reverent enough in order to be considered a prayer and yet it still reached him as such, no matter how much he tried to ignore it.  
  
At first the prayers, and the human behind them, had done nothing but annoy Raphael, irritating him almost more because he couldn't filter them out than anything else. Over time, however, this had slowly changed and evolved into something else. He wasn't entirely sure what just yet, but it seemed that the more he got to know and understand Dean Winchester, the less the human female and her prayers bothered him. Yes, he still couldn't ignore her voice any better than before when she put it to prayer and yes, she still wasn't any more respectful or reverent, but it all no longer irritated him as it once had.  
  
She was, disillusioned, Raphael believed the best word for it was. From the words and examples she used, it was clear to him that she was well acquainted with the human Bible and the twisted rhetoric it contained and professed to. It had taken him a while to realize that this signified that she had once been faithful and religious, the total opposite of what she at first appeared to be now. He hadn't seen this right away, mistakenly thinking that all humans were that familiar with their version of his Father's story and it had only been when he'd started observing humanity more closely with his brothers and Castiel's mate that he had learned otherwise. It had only been then that he'd even thought to look beyond her mere words to the  _feelings_  behind them or that it was even possible that she could mean the exact opposite of what she professed to.  
  
That had been a particularly difficult lesson for Raphael to grasp. That humans could say the exact opposite of what it was that they actually meant. Oh, sure, he had always known about their penchant for lying or being otherwise deliberately untruthful, but that wasn't what he meant here. No, this was different, this was sarcasm he believed Dean called it. The word still made him frown, not sure if he fully understood it even now after all the time that he had spent with his brother's mate. It was a strange concept, so foreign to angels as to be akin to this privacy his hunter friend seemed to value so highly.  
  
And that right there was yet another thing which was new to Raphael. Friendship. He's spoken with Michael about it at length a short while ago and even his brother didn't seem able to define it precisely despite the fact that Michael without a doubt viewed Dean as his friend. He was pretty sure that he did too, if he understood it properly. He hoped that Michael's vessel saw him that way too, which was an odd emotion for him, but it was a desire he experienced nonetheless. He had observed Dean with both Castiel and Michael long enough to wish to possess that same easy relationship with the hunter and to be able to touch him as deeply, making Dean's soul react as it did to his brothers.  
  
Raphael couldn't help but wonder if those desires weren't affecting how he viewed the prayers from the human female who called out to him. She reminded him of Dean in certain ways, particularly in her tone and manner of address to him. The sarcasm that Castiel's mate so preferred was equally present in her words, alternatively full of confusion or bitterness in ways that he couldn't fully comprehend just yet but which he hoped to soon enough. The fact that he couldn't filter out her prayers like those of the other humans that beseeched him was now starting to intrigue him and make him wonder just who she was and what had happened to her to turn her from being someone who'd clearly been a faithful worshipper of his Father to the disillusioned skeptic that she was now. He'd mentioned her to Castiel once, hoping that his little brother would be able to provide some insight and he had been told that she couldn't have completely given up or she wouldn't be praying at all. Castiel had gone on to point out that perhaps she was addressing him in a desperate hope to have her doubts disproven somehow.  
  
Those words had frightened Raphael in a way he hadn't been in a very long time. The mere thought that someone (human or otherwise) might be looking to him to save their faith in Father was almost too much. He wasn't the Lord, how was he supposed to help a human that had begun to doubt Father? It was an almost unthinkable task; a burden he daren't take and yet couldn't even think of refusing. The mere idea of him being responsible for someone losing their faith in Father, it was unbearable even if he couldn't even think of what he could possibly do to prevent it. To him faith and loyalty simply were. They were such an integral part of him that he didn't think that he could even exist without them. He'd always believed that angels couldn't exist without them, but then the unthinkable had happened when Lucifer had not only lost his faith, but had actually rebelled against Father.  
  
Though countless millennia had passed since that time, the anguish of the memory was as fresh today for Raphael as it had been back then. That had been his first experience with the fact that angels could be faithless and, unfortunately, it hadn't been his last. To this day, even with his now close relationship with Castiel, it was something that he still couldn't understand. How his little brother had been able to lose so much of his faith, to actually doubt Father as much as Castiel had done, and yet still be so favored by Him. He wasn't jealous (the mere thought of the way Castiel must have felt was enough to make him feel what he assumed came as close to approximating human illness as an angel could), just at a total loss to understand the situation despite all of his best efforts. Yet, somehow, it was and he didn't think that this was one of those situations where that knowledge was enough. No, this time he strongly believed that Father wanted him to fully comprehend matters and he couldn't. At least not yet.  
  
Raphael was sure that he had felt more in past few, short years than he had for the prior few millennia and he wasn't sure that he liked it. Regardless of his feelings on the matter, the fact was that he now heard the prayers of one human woman whether he wanted to or not and she quite often challenged him and his Father in those prayers. The one he'd just received was no different. He didn't understand entirely what she was on about- there were far too many of those references and metaphors that Dean so loved to utilize in there- but she'd mentioned the Royal Library of Alexandria. He was pretty sure that it was in a negative light, at least as far as he and his Father were concerned, but it had reminded him of its existence. Although he'd never been there personally, he'd heard from angel that had that it truly was the large repository of human knowledge that it purported itself to be. And after the discovery of "A Treatise on the Origin of Demons" in the Vatican, he couldn't help but wonder if such a large and known human library might not have possessed an angelic tome or two of its own.  
  
With a thought, Raphael transported himself back to the time of the library's zenith, taking care to not only cloak himself from human eyes, but also to those of his angelic brothers and sisters. The last thing that he wanted to do at the moment was to draw any undue attention to himself, both because he knew how dangerous it was to mess with history and because he had no desire to explain his presence to the Michael of this time. Or to his past self for that matter. He knew that they wouldn't understand either his reasons or his mission.  
  
Cautiously, Raphael slipped into the ornately carved and decorated building and sought out the man responsible for the curation and maintenance of the archive. As there were far too many scrolls for him to search through, he needed some guidance on where to start. When he found the man, he used his Grace to distract him and then probed his mind for anything particularly rare or peculiar about the collection. The fact that they had obtained some scrolls in a language no one had ever seen or heard of before sounded promising and he flew to the backroom where they were being kept in order for visiting scholars to study them. The separation gave him the opportunity to read them through in peace and perhaps there was something to be said for the privacy that Dean was always harping on about. It was nice to be able to conduct his task in peace without needing to worry about others interrupting him.  
  
The thought vanished as Raphael came across a passage that shocked him to his core. The very idea it contained was something that he had never heard discussed before, indeed none of his brothers or sisters would have dared even consider it, and to see it not only mentioned here, but talked about in such a way as to provide the reader with the instructions on how to perform it was shocking. It was as he stood there, staring at the scroll in disbelief that he realized the error in his own logic. The mere fact that he was even holding and reading this scroll, written entirely in Enochian, was proof that at least one of his siblings had given the idea far more than just serious thought. And he knew exactly which one it was too.  
  
Raziel.  
  
There was absolutely no doubt in Raphael's mind as to the identity of the author as his brother's handwriting was far too distinct and familiar to him even if he hadn't seen his brother in countless millennia. The certainty did nothing to lessen either his shock or his disbelief though. Why would Raziel have done this? What had been his brother's motivation in creating this spell? It wasn't that he wasn't extremely grateful to Raziel as he knew precisely how happy this would make Dean or the strategic advantage it would give them over Lucifer, but he just couldn't figure out his brother's reasoning and that disturbed him. They had been close once, Raziel and him, and it hurt to think that he might not have known his brother as well as he'd always thought that he had. It was something which he would need to think about, but now was not the time, not when the others needed to know what he had discovered.  
  
With his prize held close, Raphael took to flight and reached out towards the one human soul that he knew he'd always be able to find so long as it wasn't deliberately hidden from him. It still amazed him sometimes how brightly Dean shone and occasionally he still had a hard time believing that Castiel's mate was merely human. Before, when he'd first met the hunter, he had taken it as a sign from his Father that Dean was meant to be Michael's, but now he could see the error in his reasoning. If the sheer radiance and brilliance of Dean's soul had been simply to fulfil his role as  _the_  vessel then it wouldn't react the way it did with his brother's Grace, clearly remaining its own entity even as the two seemed to almost fuse in parts. Normally the souls of Michael and Lucifer's vessels would be engulfed and hidden from the outside world for the duration of his brothers' stay within their vessel. But not Dean, never Dean it seemed. The human's soul, while physically cradled within Michael's Grace was not so easily hidden from view, remaining visible even within the brilliance that was the first archangel.  
  
Although he had not told either Michael or Castiel, Raphael found himself wanting to truly touch it. The brief contact that he'd had with Dean's soul had always been clinical and in times of dire need. Nonetheless they had been enough to entice and fascinate him and he wished to know what true contact between his Grace and Dean's soul would feel like. It was the first time he had ever desired to experience a soul like that and he wasn't sure what to do with it, the impulse felt so foreign.  
  
Due to the heavy presence of other humans around Dean, and Michael apparently, Raphael landed outside of the building they were in and entered it in a human fashion. The inside was noisy, crowded and full of all manner of strange smells, some of which he recognized as human body odor and others as prepared food. The rest he couldn't immediately identify and had no particular desire to investigate at this moment. Instead he followed the light of both Dean's soul and Michael's Grace right to where the two sat at a small table near the wall.  
  
"Heya, Raph," Dean greeted, looking up as he pushed his empty plate away. "Everything okay?"  
  
"All is well," Raphael replied, taking the free seat furthest from where the humans walked the most.  
  
Even though there was very little in the same plane as his wings, Raphael disliked the idea of humans simply walking through them and thus he pulled them as close to his back as was possible. The seat he'd chosen put him beside Dean and across from his brother who had a glass with ice and a cloudy liquid in front of him. He eyed it in confusion, not understanding why his brother gave in to such human desires.  
  
"Don't tell me you want one too," Dean moaned.  
  
Raphael raised an eyebrow in surprise. "You do not wish to push beverages or food towards me as you have with Castiel and Michael?"  
  
"Sure, if you actually had any taste. However so far all I've seen is an appalling lack thereof in all angels, at least as far as alcohol is concerned. Is there really none of you that can appreciate a good beer? I swear it's all sweetness and girly frou-frou drinks with you angels!"  
  
"He wished me to prefer the fermented wheat," Michael explained.  
  
For once his first reaction of distaste seemed less to annoy Castiel's mate than to exasperate him and Raphael was amused at the change. The little human was fun to tease when he got riled up. It made Dean's soul spark and flare in a most entertaining manner that he was sure the hunter was completely unaware of.  
  
"I see," Raphael replied, assuming from the way Dean muttered that he had not been as successful in hiding his amusement as he'd thought. "And what do you prefer, Michael?"  
  
"A freaking coconut daiquiri!" Dean exclaimed, dropping his head onto his arm. "Why me? What did I ever do to deserve this?"  
  
"You sought to tempt angels from their virtues."  
  
Dean raised his head just enough to glare at him and Raphael had raised a wing and ran it backwards over the human's hair before he'd fully thought the action through. His friend squawked a protest before Dean froze, obviously have just realized exactly what he'd done, staring at him with wide eyes. He wasn't entirely sure why he'd done it either except that he'd known what manner of result he'd get and that he would enjoy it. And while Dean's soul had sparked just as he'd thought it would, he had been completely caught off-guard by the  _feel_  of it. He'd never had a human touch his wings before in any way whatsoever and to have it happen now was unlike anything that he'd ever imagined it would be. He'd reacted as he might with one of his siblings, but the experience was different from any of those times. There had been an electricity to the touch, he supposed, that was unlike the feel of Grace.  
  
It had to be due to the human soul, Raphael knew, but that knowledge hardly compared with the sensation itself. It was far stronger than what he recalled from his previous encounters with Dean's true essence and it made him want to do it again. It was a revelation, so powerful and all-encompassing as to make him wonder if he'd have realized the truth before if he'd only touched the Righteous Man's soul back then. It was an interesting if purely academic thought. It hadn't happened nor had it ever had any chance to as he'd seen the touching of any human soul as so far beneath him as to be inconsiderable. It shamed him deeply to think of how arrogant and prideful he had been and he could only thank Father that he had been given the chance to redeem himself.  
  
Raphael did have to wonder, though, if the close contact that Castiel had experienced with Dean and the hunter's soul while raising it from Hell was part of the reason why his little brother had been able to see the right path when none of the rest of them had. It was an interesting thought.  
  
"Dude," Dean finally said, still looking at him in surprise.  
  
Raphael merely returned the look for a moment before glancing at his brother. Michael seemed more amused by the whole situation than anything though his brother did give him a knowing look and he scowled in return. He hated it when Michael did that as it showed just how easily his brother was able to read him.  
  
"I have discovered something that you both will wish to know," Raphael finally stated, placing the scrolls on the table.  
  
"Holy shit," Dean exclaimed, eyes wide. "Where on Earth did these come from?"  
  
"The Royal Library of Alexandria."  
  
"The Royal- hang, on, you mean  _the_  Library of Alexandria? Like the Ancient Greek one?"  
  
"The Royal Library of Alexandria was actually in Egypt, Little One," Michael corrected, voice rife with amusement.  
  
It was sometimes so easy to forget that Dean was new their world, Raphael mused. The hunter had slotted himself so fully into their existence that he occasionally forgot how foreign they must seem to Dean at times.  
  
"As Michael said, it was in Egypt, but yes, it is that library," Raphael stated. "And these scrolls are part of a manuscript written by Raziel. Most of it appears to be missing, but among what is present is a spell which allows a vessel to retract their consent, thereby blocking their angel from possessing them without first reacquiring permission to do so."  
  
Michael's eyes widened in realization. "This would keep Lucifer out of Sam."  
  
"Yes, precisely."


	137. Chapter 136

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean suddenly remembers the horseman rings.

**PAST**  
  
  
Even though Raphael had told them about the discovery over an hour ago, Dean still couldn't believe it and he paced back to his dining and research table to look at the opened scroll once more. The text hadn't changed though and he turned to face his friends. Michael had actually parked his ass on the sofa while Raphael stood beside his brother, absently stretching a wing.  
  
"Are any of the ingredients hard to get?" Dean asked, only recognizing some of them.  
  
"Yes, the Irena flower will need to be specially cultured to not be contaminated in such a way that it will adversely interact with some of the other ingredients, but that won't take longer than the cleansing process," Michael stated.  
  
"Cleansing process?"  
  
"Of your brother."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"He is far too... tainted at the moment for this spell to work," Raphael explained.  
  
The way that his friend said the word tainted told Dean that the archangel would normally use a different, no doubt far stronger and harsher, word and he was grateful that Raphael had toned it down a bit. It was a big sign of progress and one he didn't take lightly.  
  
"The demon blood?" Dean guessed.  
  
"That and his experience in Hell," Raphael replied. "However brief it was."  
  
Dean frowned. "How has he been tainted from that? I didn't need cleansing afterwards."  
  
"Only your soul went to Hell, Little One, and you actively rejected the Darkness. With his body and the demon blood, your brother took Hell into him far more readily than you did."  
  
There was an odd tone to Michael's voice and the archangel's wings were shifting in a way that Dean hadn't seen before. He could tell his friend was uncomfortable and given the subject he didn't want to push, knowing only all too well what it felt like to be badgered with questions about his time in Hell. So if Michael said that Sam had opened himself to Hell more than he had, then he'd take his friend's word for it. Not only had his archangel been there when Sam had been in the cage, but Michael had seen his own soul in a way almost no one else had so his friend was well aware of the condition of it. Somehow he found it easier to believe that he'd actively rejected Hell on some level- even while breaking- than that he'd somehow managed to spontaneously purify himself after having acquired that kind of taint. It made more sense and was more familiar to him as he'd spent his life fighting rather than being a saint. Far from it in fact.  
  
"So you think that we should contact Sam and get him started on the cleansing process?" Dean asked.  
  
"It would be advisable," Raphael stated.  
  
"Okay, I'll find us a good location and let him know." There was a flutter of wings and his lover was in the room with them. "Hey, Cas."  
  
"Dean," Castiel replied warmly. "Raphael, Michael."  
  
The fact that his lover walked right over to the table to look at the ancient scrolls told Dean that one of the archangels had been communicating with Castiel. He felt an odd pang at the thought, followed swiftly by a sense of loss at the memory of the bond and connection that he'd had and experienced while with Michael, and not only with his friend, but with his lover as well on some level. He was just all that much more  _aware_  of the bond he shared with Castiel when Michael was with him and he seriously missed that too at the moment, like a phantom limb almost.  
  
Those thoughts reminded Dean of the kalsika and that kicked his longing and sense of loss up a thousandfold. Though he'd come to find that he always hungered for that connection now that he'd experienced it, actively thinking about it  _always_  made it worse. Practically unbearably so. It was only the fact that touching their kalsika without Castiel seemed horribly wrong to him that had prevented him from getting it out and losing himself in it on nights that he spent alone. True, those tended to be few and far in-between these days, but they still occurred and he couldn't begrudge his lover them. The simple fact of the matter was that his angel didn't need to sleep and so the fact that Castiel spent as many nights with him that he did was already far more than he could ever ask for.  
  
He just missed Castiel when his lover wasn't there.  
  
If he hadn't spent as long obsessing over whether he'd be able to find the right- no the  _perfect_ \- kalsika himself, Dean would be starting to wonder why Castiel hadn't gotten the Andaluzyian crystal necessary to complete the bonding process or even whether his angel still wished to bond with him. The memory of his own desire to make things perfect and the ghosts of his lover's feelings for him were more than enough to negate any of those thoughts though. He just wished that he could urge Castiel on, but the knowledge that he wouldn't have budged from doing everything just right and getting the absolute best-matched kalsika for his lover stopped him from doing so. Just knowing that Castiel wanted to do that for him was enough to suppress even his urgency as he'd never thought that anyone could come to feel that way for him, so the realization that someone had was still such a revelation to him.  
  
"So what do you think?" Dean asked instead, reaching out to realign a few errant feathers on his lover's wings.  
  
Castiel stretched one of the wings before using it to pull him a little closer. "I think that this is wonderful news and exactly what we require just now given that Simiel seems to have found a way to break the Rite of Contressa."  
  
"It will provide Sam Winchester with critical extra protection as well as granting us more time to find an alternative solution," Raphael stated.  
  
The words caused Dean's shoulders to slump. The good news had lifted his mood enough to make him forget that while this would protect his little brother and buy them more time, it wasn't actually a solution to their problems. Just like the Rite of Contressa, it was merely a stopgap effort and at best it would put them right back where they'd been before, when things had seemed at their bleakest before the showdown at Stull Cemetery. Well, okay, it wouldn't be quite that bad, but it wouldn't be all that much better either. What they gained by having Michael and Raphael on their side and Castiel far more powerful than before, they lost with not having a plan to work towards that the horseman rings had provided before.  
  
"Shit," Dean cursed with feeling.  
  
"What? What is it?" Michael inquired, rising to his feet.  
  
"The horseman rings. I just realized, I still have all four of them and Death was quite clear on the fact that his ring was only a temporary loan. I'm kinda surprised that he hasn't come back for it."  
  
"I had forgotten that you still possessed those," Castiel said, shifting. "Where have you been keeping them?"  
  
"In the Impala in a heavily warded box protected by silver, iron, salt and anything else that I could think of. It seemed safer than leaving them in motel rooms while I went to hunt and I'd never risk losing them like this."  
  
"Have you checked them since putting them in there?" Raphael inquired.  
  
It took Dean a second to understand what his friend meant but when he did, he spun around. "Son of a bitch!"  
  
Even without angelic speed, Dean was at the Impala faster than most people would have thought possible. He dug his keys out of his pocket, opened the trunk and unceremoniously shoved aside anything and everything between him and the safety deposit box that he'd used as it was made of iron. When he got hold of it, he pulled it forwards and turned his attention back to his keychain to find the right key to undo the silver chain wrapped around it.  
  
"Don't!" Dean cried out, dropping his keys in order to grab Raphael's wrist as the archangel reached for the box. "Don't touch it!"  
  
"What's wrong?" Raphael demanded.  
  
"I poured Holy oil over it as an extra precaution."  _That_  made all three of his archangels take a step back and he shrugged apologetically. "I was afraid Raph or someone else might try and get at them in order to free you, Mike, along with Lucifer."  
  
"A sensible precaution," Michael responded evenly.  
  
Dean couldn't quite get a read on his friend's mood so he let it go. It wasn't like he'd really known Michael at the time yet, nor had the archangel been quite the same being then as he was now. Not that he was the same as he'd been back then either, but in Michael's case the changes made a whole world of difference, almost literally given his archangel's former intentions. Instead he focused on getting the chain off and then opening the box. When he did so, he felt his heart sink, knowing that the rings were gone even before he'd raked his fingers through the rock salt he'd filled the box with.  
  
"They're gone," Castiel stated, the words giving a finality to the situation.  
  
"You think Death took them?" Dean asked.  
  
"Based on what you said he told you and the precautions that you took, I believe it to be the most likely conclusion," Michael replied.  
  
"Well, it's better than having had to see him again I suppo-" Dean began and cut off as his fingers found something in the salt. "What the Hell?"  
  
It was small and round and plastic. Extracting it, Dean stared at it for a moment in disbelief before he couldn't help it and started laughing. Okay, that made it official. It had  _definitely_  been Death who had taken the rings, this proved it beyond a shadow of a doubt.  
  
"What is it?" Castiel inquired, stepping closer, though still keeping his distance from the box.  
  
"It's a token, a fairground token," Dean replied.  
  
"A fairground token, I don't understand," Michael frowned.  
  
The fact that his archangel had used a contraction caught Dean off-guard for a moment, but then he flipped the token at his friend. "Some fairs have people buy tokens that they can then use at rides or food stands instead of cash in order to speed things up and to avoid stands running out of exact change. That particular one comes from a fair that used to be near Blue Earth every year. I remember because we'd go whenever Sam and I were at Pastor Jim's and they had the best pretzels in the world."  
  
"I do not believe that you can actually claim that," Raphael said, amusement clear in his eyes.  
  
"Bite me, Raph."  
  
"Why is this amusing?" Castiel inquired.  
  
"Just 'cause I wondered about Death's cheap food taste when I saw him as he was eating pizza at this crappy hole in the wall joint. I'm sure this is his way of either letting me know it was him or a counter to my thought."  
  
"You criticized Death?" Michael demanded, voice completely emotionless.  
  
"Just in my mind, but uh, yeah, kinda, I guess."  
  
He hadn't ever quite thought of it like that, but Dean supposed that he actually had. At the time it had been more of a snarky mental comment, aimed at helping him get his own terror under control, but it could easily have been viewed as criticism now that he thought about it. Which of course made him gulp. Really, it was nothing short of miraculous that he'd survived this long and maybe that was God's way of trying to tell Castiel that He was still around? He wouldn't put it past the Douche to try and communicate with His kids that way. It seemed like such a God-like thing to do, or at least in as so far as he understood and saw God.  
  
Dean sucked in a sudden breath as something else occurred to him, causing his eyes to go wide.  
  
"What is it, Dean?" Castiel questioned. "What's wrong?"  
  
"Death. When I met him in Chicago, he said that Lucifer had bound him and that was how your brother was able to control him."  
  
"Lucifer  _bound_  Death?" Raphael demanded in disbelief.  
  
"Yes," Michael confirmed gravely. "You fear that Lucifer may still have power over him, Little One?"  
  
"It was why Death helped us as he wanted to be free," Dean replied. "He told me that we couldn't break his shackles for him."  
  
"Of course you wouldn't have been able to, nor could Castiel at the time."  
  
Dean's eyebrows rose in surprise. "But you can?"  
  
"With Lucifer restrained as he is now, yes."  
  
"Do you need anything to do that?"  
  
"Nothing that you do not already have, though I will need to join with you once more or the damage to your aunt will be quite severe."  
  
The words caused Dean's pulse to jump and the part of him that had mourned the loss of the connection and the awareness that came with being a vessel reacted with joy. Despite that, the second part of Michael's sentence wasn't lost on him. It was something he'd done his level best not to think on too much, which a lack of visible evidence of power decay had allowed him to do, but he now couldn't help by wonder if his friend had done his own best to ensure that the damage wasn't anywhere visible.  
  
"Yeah, okay," Dean replied.  
  
Raphael and Michael flew off, no doubt taking a shortcut inside and Dean rolled his eyes at this. It did, however, give him some time alone with his lover and so he turned to face Castiel.  
  
"You okay?" Dean asked when he saw his angel's expression.  
  
"Yes," Castiel replied but Dean sensed something more.  
  
"Hey, you'll be able to reclaim me afterwards if you want."  
  
The way Castiel's eyes went dark told Dean that he'd guessed right. Silly angel, as if Michael could ever come close to meaning what Castiel did to him, but he supposed that it had to do with millennia of hearing about  _the_ vessels and their connections to Michael and Lucifer. But perhaps there was slightly more to it than just that?  
  
"You know that I don't mind it anymore, right, Cas?" Dean checked. "Letting Michael in, I mean."  
  
"You don't?"  
  
"No. Sure, the initial bit isn't pleasant, but the rest of it is fine. Mike's great, giving me as much freedom as he can and while I can't do anything on my own, I get to experience the awareness and connection you guys have. And that lets me feel our bond in a way that I just can't on my own. Besides, I also get to hear your true voice as well."  
  
That seemed to ease his lover a little and Castiel reached forward and slipped his hand under the sleeve of his shirt. Dean closed his eyes as his angel's hand came to rest on the scar Castiel had left resurrecting him. There was a pulse of Grace that warmed him and then there was the brief disorientation of angel flight from a human perspective and they were back in their apartment.  
  
"Are you ready for us to call Death?" Raphael inquired.  
  
"Uh, shouldn't Mike jump into me first?" Dean questioned.  
  
"No, since he knows you best-"  
  
"I'd hardly call it that!"  
  
"Since you are the only one who has met him before, we thought it best that you remain free to speak with him directly at first," Michael explained. "Just so he knows what we want to do and why."  
  
"Oh, alright then."  
  
It was a bit odd for Dean to watch Michael and Raphael moving about the place and collecting ingredients as if they always did so. Though the two had often been in the apartment, they'd never really done more than stand or sit around and speak with him or Castiel. At most they'd sat at the table, researching with him. Though he had gotten Michael to try certain foods here, the archangel had never needed to get anything out of the cupboards or anything like that. Not that their lack of experience seemed to be hampering either of them now.  
  
Dean just watched the set up in silence and stepped forward to offer his hand when Michael picked up the knife. He'd had more than enough experience with angelic rituals to know that human blood was most likely involved. True to form, Michael cut his hand and, also true to form, Castiel didn't let him have the wound long enough to feel anything past the initial sting of it. Then it was done and he was surprised to see the two starting to clean up their mess.  
  
"So that's it? That's all you need to do to summon Death?" Dean asked.  
  
"It is less of a summoning as letting him know that we are requesting his presence," Raphael replied.  
  
"Probably a good idea with him."  
  
"Indeed."  
  
Ever since he'd started being able to detect the flutter of an angel's wings, Dean had gotten out of practice of having beings appearing suddenly in the room with him and therefore he jumped at the unexpected voice now.  
  
"Oh, hey," Dean said, turning to face the horseman, his eyes dropping down to Death's hands. "I see that you got your ring back."  
  
"Yes, did you think that I'd let you keep it?" Death asked, stepping closer to him.  
  
"No, no, I just didn't know how to contact you to give it back."  
  
Death hummed an acknowledgement to that before his eyes narrowed and the horseman stepped closer still. The next thing that Dean knew, he had three archangels at his back, all close enough to be touching him. It helped calm him a little as all of the terror that he'd felt the last time he'd encountered this particular horseman had returned full force. Unfortunately it wasn't enough to soothe him entirely as he could only all too clearly recall Death saying that he'd reap God Himself one day, which meant that an archangel, or even three of them as was the case here, would be nothing for Death.  
  
"Well, isn't this interesting?" Death said, coming to a stop just a few feet away.  
  
"Isn't what interesting?" Dean asked as Castiel's hand curled around his arm, though whether it was to warn him or whisk him away if needed he didn't know.  
  
"You."  
  
"Oh. Uh-"  
  
"I think that I'm beginning to understand what God had in mind when he created your soul. Most interesting."  
  
Dean was at a total loss as to how to reply to  _that_. Given that the last time Death had compared him to an insignificant bacterium, this was a huge turnabout and he didn't have the first clue as to what to make of it.  
  
"Now, I suppose that there was a reason that you little angels wanted to speak with me?" Death stated, turning his attention to Michael and Raphael.  
  
The reprieve was nice and Dean took a moment to not only just breathe, but to also laugh in his head at anyone calling those two little in any way.  
  
"Lucifer is out of the cage," Michael got right to the point.  
  
"I know, but he doesn't have a vessel yet."  
  
"Because we made it impossible for him to take one, at least temporarily."  
  
"And this restriction is about to fail?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Wait, Lucy needs a vessel to jerk your chain?" Dean demanded before he thought about it.  
  
Death's cold eyes briefly returned to him, but surprisingly the horseman deigned to answer. "Yes, it is blood-based and now he has none. What are you proposing?"  
  
"That I break the bond," Michael stated.  
  
"And what do you want in return?"  
  
"Just a promise that you won't kill Lucifer. If he dies-"  
  
"Yes, I know. That is all you want?"  
  
"It is in all of our interests not to have you bound to his every whim," Castiel said. "If he loses you, he will lose his most powerful weapon."  
  
"Very well, I accept your offer."  
  
"Good," Michael replied.  
  
The next thing that Dean knew, his friend had a hand on his back and the room started to brighten with the light of an angel's true form. He allowed himself to be pushed down inside of his own meatsuit and he twined himself around Michael's Grace as soon as possible. It seemed to help the transition and soon he found himself cocooned safely with his archangel's essence, looking back at Death's fascinated face. The emotion made him shudder a little, not at all sure that he liked having the horseman look at him like that. He'd far rather never even be a blip on Death's radar. Give him a good old reaper any day, Tessa preferably.  
  
"Really interesting," Death muttered to himself.  
  
Something shifted inside of them and the next thing that Dean knew, he was looking at Death not with his own human eyes, but rather with Michael's. To angelic sights, Death looked far different. Instead of being a mostly human man with just an aura of the supernatural, the horseman now was far more akin to a dark flame than anything else. He briefly thought of the true essence of demons, but really there was as much likeness there as there was between a flower and a tree. He seemed dark, yes, but it was a darkness that burned with its own dark light, radiating it outwards just as much as the Grace of an angel did light. Unlike the true form of angels, though, Death wasn't even remotely human shaped, being rather some kind of entity composed entirely of energy. Or at least that was the closest thing that he could think of with his very human point of reference.  
  
Since it made his head hurt to focus on it too much, Dean abandoned that thought and focused instead on the thin ruby red thread that started somewhere within Death's being and trailed off into the distance.  
  
" _Is that the bond?_ " Dean asked.  
  
" _Yes,_ " Michael replied, concentrating all of his power on it. " _Hold on, this may be unpleasant._ "  
  
Unsure of quite what to do, Dean tried to relax as much as possible to not interfere with Michael's power. As soon as he did so, he could start to feel it flowing through his soul and he closed his mental eyes at the wash of awareness and connectivity that came with it. His bond with Castiel seemed to flare to life and he longed to reach out and touch it, even if only to get a shade of the kalsika's power, but he resisted, not wanting to make things more difficult or to cause any kind of backlash to his lover. Instead he concentrated on just what Michael was doing, both out of sheer curiosity as to keep himself occupied.  
  
Michael's Grace swelled, all of its power coming down on the bond and Dean watched in fascination as it started to fray before slowly breaking apart. There was a sudden wave of rage and hate that sent him staggering. It took him a moment to realize that it was Lucifer's emotions that he was experiencing, reaching them through the thread, before it snapped and the emotions just vanished. The abrupt lack of a target made the power crackle in the air around them and it took Michael a moment to reign it all back in. By the time his archangel had done that, Death had recovered from whatever the horseman might have experienced.  
  
"I will not forget this, little angel," Death stated.  
  
With that, the horseman disappeared, leaving Dean alone with his three archangels once more.


	138. Chapter 137

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam discovers what his grandfather and cousins have been up to.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
The weather outside was gorgeous, especially for the time of year, and Sam was thoroughly enjoying it. For whatever reason, the others had seemed to want a little break from hunting cases back to back, probably due to Mark's unexpected death, and he'd taken the opportunity to relax a little himself. Like today he'd decided to take advantage of the good weather and go for a leisurely run instead of the brutal training exercises he'd normally have done. He'd even stopped for an ice cream along the way.  
  
Sam smiled to himself as he thought about it again. It had been damn good pistachio ice cream too, not any of that cheap crap stuff they'd always gotten as kids at whatever fill up joint they'd happened to stop at or which their diners might provide, if they were lucky. He wasn't sure if it was the great ice cream, the good weather or the result of the cleansing spells, but he felt damned good indeed. Definitely far better than he could remember feeling in a very long, long time. Perhaps even since Jess had died.  
  
That thought still served to dampen his mood and Sam tried to push it aside. Instead he chose to ponder whether or not the cleansing spells could be behind his unusually sunny disposition at the moment. He'd definitely felt markedly better after each one that they performed these days, which made sense given the ever-increasing complexity of the spells. There were just two or three left to go and he should be all set. He only wished that they could just perform them all today and have it all over and done with. He was more than ready to be rid of all of the Hell taint that he'd managed to pick up during his little sojourn down there to Lucifer's cage.  
  
Okay,  _that_  thought had definitely killed whatever had remained of his good mood and now Sam just felt as frustrated, annoyed and angry as he'd been lately whenever he thought about his brother and the once again looming Apocalypse. Thinking about the devil was certainly not conducive to remaining happy, that was for sure. It might not be all that bad that he'd left the good mood behind, though, as even most of a day off was probably far more than they could really afford to take at present. He just hated sitting around with nothing to do! Oh, sure, they could hunt, but not what he really wanted to be hunting. Only the small stuff that hardly even mattered right now, not with Lucifer threatening the whole world.  
  
The moment that the last of the cleansing spells was performed, Sam was calling Dean and demanding that his brother and Castiel come over and do whatever it was that needed doing to keep the devil out of him. Once that was done then he was getting involved in this fight once more, whether Dean liked it or not. The only thing that had prevented him from throwing himself into the thick of it so far was the fact that Lucifer could just slip right inside of him if the devil only figured out where he was. Despite that restriction, though, he'd been keeping an eye on things and he was pretty sure that he was aware of at least a few things that Lucifer had been up to, if not all of them. That inexplicable explosion down in French Guiana for one had the devil's handiwork written all over it, especially when one considered that one of the islands that had been literally wiped off the map had been called the Devil's Island. He was pretty sure that was Lucifer's way of being ironic.  
  
Sam shook his head at the thought. Trust Lucifer to go and do something so pointed and yet so useless. It was kinda like the last Apocalypse all over again. Things were just too quiet and he couldn't help but wonder what the devil was planning. Well, after Lucifer had him, of course. A vessel  _was_  the first and most important step for an angel who wanted to be on Earth and now that Lucifer'd had him he just knew that the devil would be back. The sheer glee and satisfaction that Lucifer had experienced upon first taking him was still enough to make him shiver, mostly in horror. The only bright side of the situation was that it meant that he had a valuable piece of leverage over his enemy, or at least he would once the necessary spell was performed.  
  
He paused as he wondered if he could somehow use that to ensure that he was included more in whatever Dean, Castiel and the archangels were up to. After all, by this point Sam was pretty sure that if he didn't take matters into his own hands somehow, that he'd be excluded from things and they just couldn't afford that. With the possible exception of Bobby (perhaps!), he was the one who had done the most research on the Apocalypse and so what he knew could be vitally important. Not to mention that it might make him think of things that the others wouldn't. The angels had a completely non-human perspective on the situation and often overlooked the obvious or things which could be used to their advantage due to either their arrogance or their brainwashing.  
  
And speaking of brainwashing, Sam frowned as he wondered once more just what had happened to his brother. Given the sheer amount of time that Dean had spent with both Michael and Raphael, literally anything was possible and it wouldn't do to let his guard down around any of them. Not even the slightest.  
  
Sam was still pondering that thought when he entered the Campbell compound. He was trying to figure out just how much the archangels would be able to read from his mind when he stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes having absently glanced at the large research table as he'd passed it. Just like normal, there were countless books strewn across its surface, but unlike normal they weren't the traditional research texts or anything even remotely like them. It was with a growing sense of horror that he recognized the almost lurid artwork on the covers of the paperbacks as those that adorned the covers of Chuck's prophetic trash.  
  
"Ah, Sam, you're back," Gwen said from the other end of the room. "We've been waiting for you to return."  
  
"What's this?" Sam demanded, turning to face her, still not quite able to believe his own eyes.  
  
"Those have been incredibly informative," Samuel stated, stepping into the room.  
  
"What? How did you even get these?"  
  
"I went out and bought them after our little trip to the prophet's house. Thanks for letting me know about them."  
  
Oh God, he  _had_  been the one to tell his grandfather about the existence of these books, Sam realized. But he'd never thought that the older man would actually go out and buy them! If the thought had even occurred to him, he'd definitely have kept his mouth shut on the topic, that was for damn sure! In what strongly resembled some horribly cheesy cheap budget movie effect, he could almost see events as Chuck had distorted them flashing before his eyes. While they'd never gotten their hands on as many books as there were here now, he'd seen more than enough of them to know that he'd never wanted anyone that he knew personally to read them.  
  
The fans... well the fans were one thing and Sam knew that there really wasn't anything that he could do about them. No matter how much he might wish that he could at times, most particularly when confronted with one fan in particular who would go forevermore nameless if he had anything to say about it. But at least the fans thought that it was all fiction, or rather most of them did, he'd always had to wonder if people who'd had experience with the supernatural might have put two and two together. Luckily he'd never yet had occasion to find out and he'd much prefer to keep it that way. On some level he lived in constant dread of coming across another hunter who'd somehow become aware of them and who had then connected the Sam in the books with him.  
  
That thought was really too horrible to contemplate and yet it kept coming back to Sam over and over again like some recurring nightmare. He couldn't quite understand his own fascination with it, but it was unintentional and horrified fascination nonetheless.  
  
"I- I can't believe that you guys did this," Sam finally stuttered, feeling betrayed. "There's all kinds of private stuff in there!"  
  
"But it's out there for everyone to read," Gwen pointed out.  
  
"Not with our consent! We told Chuck to stop writing them."  
  
"Yeah, he mentioned that in the book with the convention in it, but I guess that he decided that he had to continue."  
  
"If it's any consolation, you're not the only one who's had secrets revealed in there," Samuel stated.  
  
"No, it's not any consolation!" Sam shouted. "It was your choice to get them and to let Gwen read them. I didn't have that choice before you both went rifling through my life."  
  
"Maybe you should have thought of that before you lied to us then," Gwen countered. "Then we wouldn't have had to resort to this."  
  
"Lied to you? I didn't lie to you!"  
  
"No? Then what about all that stuff you said about Dean?"  
  
"It was all true! Surely you can see for yourself now that he isn't the hunter that he used to be."  
  
"There's a big difference between that and what you implied," Samuel replied. "Yes, of course, Dean changed after Hell, but that's only normal. No one can go through that kind of trauma and escape it unscratched, not even you despite how much shorter your stay in Hell was. But that doesn't mean that your brother changed for the worse, indeed I can't find any trace of that. Sure, he grew more cautious, but that's not a bad thing. He  _knew_  what was at stake more than anyone else could even comprehend, not to mention the fact that he had some serious issues to work through."  
  
Sam snorted. "Of course you're taking his side. I really couldn't have expected anything else."  
  
"And what's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"Exactly what I said! Can you even hear yourself, Samuel? I mean, really? It's like Dean can do no wrong as far as you're concerned, not to mention the fact that he seems to be constantly on your mind in a way that's neither healthy nor normal."  
  
"It's not my fault that your brother reminds me of my Mary!" Samuel shouted.  
  
The unexpected outburst startled Sam even despite the sharp rise in voices over the course of the argument. Not only was he unused to his grandfather shouting, but the words themselves were a surprise. Dean reminded Samuel of Mom? He definitely hadn't seen that one coming, that was for sure. Personally he'd always thought that his brother resembled their father, Dean had certainly always imitated Dad enough for that impression to be grounded in solid fact. In contrast, he'd always fancied himself to take after their mother as he'd clearly always been at odds with their father. So if he hadn't gotten his personality from Dad, then surely it had to have come from Mom. And yet here his grandfather was, comparing Dean to Mary while Samuel had compared him with John not too long ago. It bothered him that while he could outright dismiss the comparison between himself and his father (after all, his grandfather hadn't really known Dad), he knew that he couldn't really do the same with the Dean and Mary comparison for obvious reasons.  
  
"What's going on here?" Bobby demanded, coming into the room, a gun in hand. "Are you idjits trying to bring down the roof?"  
  
"Sam's being unreasonable," Gwen explained.  
  
"Unreasonable?  _I'm_  being unreasonable?" Sam demanded, furious. "They're the ones who've been violating our privacy! And, yes, I mean yours too, Bobby. Look!"  
  
Bobby frowned at him but followed his pointed finger nonetheless. Sam was thankful for the small favors as he waited for the explosion that was sure to follow the older hunter's discovery of what his family had done. Only it didn't seem to be forthcoming and he frowned, wondering if everyone but him had really gone crazy.  
  
"What, the books?" Bobby asked, stepping closer to the table and picking up one of the books with a particularly lurid drawing that Sam wasn't immediately sure was meant to be him or his brother but which he desperately hoped was meant to be Dean. "What's this trash anyway?"  
  
"That particular one is Dean," Gwen explained.  
  
"Dean?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
It took a few seconds, but Sam saw the moment that Bobby got what it was that he was holding and what all the other books laid out before him were. Now that he thought about it for a second, he was stunned at the sheer number of them. While it was true that he and Dean had never gotten them all and that even the former publisher had only had a selection of them on her shelf, he knew for sure that there hadn't been nearly this many of them at that time. Just how many had Chuck published since telling them that he was considering it once more? He knew that Becky had said that the publications weren't lagging all that far behind the present, but he still hadn't expected there to be nearly as many as this. It was staggering and he couldn't quite fathom how people would read this many of them. Did they really have nothing better to do with their time and money?  
  
"This, this is all of them?" Bobby questioned, tone emotionless.  
  
"No, we're still missing about eleven of them, I think," Samuel responded. "This only takes us up to Stull Cemetery and your original defeat of both Lucifer and Michael."  
  
"I see."  
  
Sam's frown deepened as he tried to decipher his friend's voice. This was absolutely not the reaction that he'd been expecting from Bobby but perhaps that was because the older hunter didn't quite understand just how much Chuck not only saw but also chose to share? It was quite possible. Heck, he himself hadn't quite been able to understand it until he'd read excerpts from the books and even then he'd tried to deny it until that just hadn't been possible anymore.  
  
"That's it? That's all you have to say after what they've done?" Sam demanded.  
  
Bobby shrugged. "What do you want me to say, Sam? That I'm unhappy about it? Sure, I definitely am, but I also understand why it was that they did it. I'd probably have done the same thing if I'd been in their shoes."  
  
"What? Why?"  
  
"Because it's research, Sam, and invaluable research at that. Now they both know all that has happened and don't need us to explain issues as they crop up. In fact it would be really good to see if we can't get our hands on the others and find out what has been happening since your confrontation with Michael at Stull."  
  
He couldn't believe it. Sam really couldn't believe it! His family had just done the closest equivalent to reading his personal journal and Bobby was okay with that? He needed his big brother here at the moment he suddenly realized. Dean wouldn't hesitate to tell both Gwen and Samuel exactly how he felt about this situation, of that he was sure. All he had to do was recall his brother's horror and disbelief at the discovery of the books to know that he'd have the backup he sought from Dean in this. Perhaps he should let them go out and get the remaining books, those were sure to have both Gwen and Samuel in them as far greater characters than his grandfather had been before and then they'd understand just how greatly they'd violated him. Not to mention the fact that it would also provide him with all kinds of information on exactly what it was that the archangels had done with Castiel and Dean. Once he knew that, then perhaps he could come up with a plan on how to reverse the damage and it should also get the others to realize that things weren't quite what they seemed.  
  
"I concur," Samuel stated. "I would have bought them as well except that the store was sold out."  
  
"Sold out?" Bobby queried with raised eyebrows. "They're doing that well?"  
  
"So it would seem. The girl at the help desk seemed to think it was inevitable given the inclusion of angels, demons and prophecies."  
  
"Oh, of course, silly me, why didn't I think of that?"  
  
"You're unbelievable, the whole lot of you." The new voice made Sam turn around to find Christian standing behind him, a dark look on his face. He felt an odd flutter of relief within him, sure that his cousin had finally come to realize just what was going on here and what was at stake. His hope soon died however when Christian turned his glare towards him. "Don't you realize how much time you're wasting here? And on what? Worthless crap!"  
  
"Christian," Gwen chided. "You hardly even read any of them. You can't know that."  
  
"Oh I read more than enough to know exactly what they're about. I mean, seriously, how can you have read them and still want to waste any more time on Dean Winchester?"


	139. Chapter 138

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel finally finds his and Dean's Andaluzyian crystal.

**PAST**  
  
  
The moment that Castiel saw it he knew.  _This_  was the Andaluzyian crystal that he'd been looking for.  
  
The absolute certainty he felt was a huge relief to Castiel as he'd been starting to wonder if he even knew what to look for. There had been some crystals that he'd found earlier that had both seemed to call out and appeal to him at the same time, but they'd never felt a hundred percent right to him and now he was immensely glad that he hadn't settled for any of them. It would have been a tragedy to have used any of those crystals when there had been this one available, hidden away here in the most unlikely of places.  
  
On some level Castiel wasn't really all that surprised. After all, when did things ever happen as they should when Dean was involved? In fact he was sure that his mate would quite like the fact that their Andaluzyian crystal had formed within the immense pressure and volatile heat of Yellowstone's massive magma chamber instead of within the cold grasp of the ocean's equally pressurized depths.  
  
Briefly Castiel feared that the fiery power of the crystal might overwhelm his human but then he pushed the thought aside. The crystal called out far too strongly to him for it to not also be compatible with Dean. He'd have to trust his mate as Dean had already proven himself capable of things no human should be able to handle or achieve. With that thought he stepped forward and carefully picked up the crystal.  
  
The moment that he touched it, Castiel's certainty solidified even further within him. There was absolutely no doubt left within him. The power of the Andaluzyian crystal washed through him, freeing up and opening his own Grace and power in a way that he himself could never achieve on his own. It was both terrifying and exhilarating at once. Terrifying in that it left him so open that he felt more vulnerable than he had ever before in his long existence, not even just before Raphael had killed him that first time had he felt so vulnerable, not even knowing how infinitely more powerful his archangel brother was than him. But it was also exhilarating because he knew that soon it wouldn't just be him touching it and being so open, but Dean as well.  
  
The mere thought of his mate's soul being so open and free and  _bonding_  with his own Grace made Castiel feel something he couldn't quite recognize. It was similar to anticipation and desire and yet those paled hopelessly in comparison to the sheer power and strength of this unknown emotion. All he knew was that he wanted it desperately and that he wanted it  _now_.  
  
It was only the knowledge that he wouldn't be able to stop if he went straight to Dean that allowed Castiel to restrain himself from flying right to his mate and claiming him. It wasn't the fact that his hunter would mind the speed but rather that Dean wouldn't appreciate one of the consequences of so hasty an action that tamed his impulse. The absolute last thing that he wanted was for his mate to ever regret anything about this bonding, which meant that he had to exercise a little patience now and do something that actually went against his very nature and instincts. Logically he knew that Michael was no threat to his and Dean's relationship, but the instinct to claim his mate alone was still there nonetheless. But this was Dean he was talking about and so of course his mate was breaking all of the rules and traditions.  
  
Thinking of it like that actually made Castiel feel a lot better and made him smile. He wouldn't change anything about his mate and so he would deal with this too even if it went against some of his mating instincts and delayed his bonding. Just the knowledge that it would make Dean happier in the end was more than enough for him.  
  
With a thought, Castiel had located his oldest brother and he flew right to him, his precious prize clutched tightly in his hands. He was so focused on the Andaluzyian crystal and how phenomenal that it felt to him that he caught the way Xarael and Raphael, both of whom were with Michael, almost flinched away from it. Nor did he miss how his oldest brother  _didn't_  draw away from it. That alone told him that he'd been right to come here first even before Michael's face turned curious and his brother leaned forwards,  _towards_  his and Dean's crystal. Normally all other angels were either repulsed or neutral towards the crystal of a pair about to be bonded, especially when it had already been touched by one of the intended pairs.  
  
"Castiel," Xarael said reverently, her eyes on the crystal even if it held no enticement to her. "You found it."  
  
"Yes," Castiel replied, knowing exactly what she meant.  
  
Often they still didn't need words, not after those early months having worked so closely together to regain order in Heaven. He'd taken great care during his growing relationship with first Michael and then Raphael to not let his connection with her slide even if she came to Earth far less often.  
  
"Do you wish to do it now, Brother?" Michael inquired, stepping closer.  
  
"Please."  
  
"Bond well," Raphael said.  
  
"Yes, bond well, Brother," Xarael added.  
  
"Thank you," Castiel replied, lowering his head in deference to the standard congratulatory wish.  
  
With a final glance towards Michael, Castiel took to flight once more, heading for what he now considered to be his home more than Heaven. He still held out hope though that one day Dean might come to see that Heaven was not as bad as his mate thought it was. Not only had Zachariah just shown Dean one small portion of it, but his late brother had also broken countless rules to make it far more akin to Hell than any of the other angels who'd learned of what had transpired had ever believed was possible.  
  
The thought of that and of what Michael had told him about Dean's nightmare that one night was still enough to enrage Castiel but he cast all that aside now. Not only was there nothing that he could do about it at present, it would also only serve to taint the bonding. No, he'd leave it for now and then take the time to show his mate how Heaven had changed later, after they'd dealt with the Apocalypse.  
  
The moment Castiel landed in the apartment, his eyes sought out Dean who was standing in the kitchen before an opened cupboard. It was the one in which his mate stored any candy that Dean had bought and where he'd occasionally leave something sweet that he'd gotten from another part of the world.  
  
"Hey," Dean said, glancing over his shoulder to see which of them it was.  
  
Castiel knew the moment his mate caught sight of the Andaluzyian crystal he held as Dean stilled in a way that he'd rarely ever seen. Slowly his hunter turned around to face him though his mate's eyes never left the crystal. Part of him was still feeling the awe and draw of the original discovery so he knew exactly what it was that Dean was experiencing just now. The temptation to just reach out and  _claim_ , to commence the bonding, was so strong as to be almost irresistible and he knew that he'd made the right decision to go to Michael first as he knew that he wouldn't have been able to make himself leave now. Not with the ability to-  _finally!_ \- fully bond with Dean literally right in his grasp. As it was, it was all that he could do to still it for long enough to ensure that his mate was completely ready so that Dean could enjoy the experience fully.  
  
"It... it's... perfect," Dean finally breathed, stopping only a short distance away and even that was clearly an effort for his hunter. "Can we do it now? Is everything ready?"  
  
"Almost," Castiel replied, waiting for his mate to drag his eyes away from the crystal long enough to look at him. "You need to hold it alone first before we can begin."  
  
"Alone? Why?"  
  
"It is so that you become familiar with the power of the crystal and how it will affect your soul before the experience is compounded by Castiel's Grace," Michael explained, finally stepping forward himself.  
  
It didn't escape Castiel's notice that his brother gave him a wide berth as Michael did so. He was grateful for the understanding as it was one more thing that he didn't have to worry about and he'd hate for this, what would undoubtedly be the most important event in his existence, to be marred by any kind of fissure in the relationship with his brother.  
  
"Oh, okay," Dean responded. "What's it like?"  
  
"It is hard to explain," Castiel replied truthfully. "It will open up your soul in a way that it has never been before."  
  
"Even when you pulled me from Hell or with our kalsika?"  
  
"Yes, even more than then."  
  
Dean nodded in a way that Castiel recognized as a way for his hunter to distract himself and to give his mate a moment to compose himself and prepare for what Dean was about to do. The urge to check that his mate was sure about this rose within him but he repressed it. If there was one thing that Dean Winchester had already proven irrevocably it was that his mate  _couldn't_  and  _wouldn't_  be forced into doing things that his hunter hadn't full well decided to do and no one had done anything even remotely similar to forcing here.  _Dean_  had been the one to seek out more information on the bonding (the  _angelic_  bonding) and  _Dean_  had been the one to commence the ritual and to contact  _him_. His mate knew what he was doing and had made his decision long before.   
  
No, this was about his mate needing a few moments to compose himself before doing something that Dean had fought against all of his life. Namely opening himself up, wholly and completely, to another being. Castiel knew how strongly and instinctively his mate protected himself in that way and he doubted that even his hunter realized how shielded he'd be on some level even when they'd both held their kalsika.  
  
Far sooner than Castiel had expected, Dean nodded once decisively and held out his hands.  
  
"I'm ready," his mate declared.  
  
With great care, Castiel reached out and held the Andaluzyian crystal above Dean's cupped hands and dropped it to ensure that they didn't both touch the crystal at the same time. Once that was accomplished, he forced himself to step back to help distance himself from the temptation to reach out and close the connection between them. He did not, however, remove his eyes from his mate for even an instant and therefore saw every nuance of his mate's reaction to the power and influence of their crystal.  
  
The moment it had touched his hands, Dean's eyes had opened wide and Castiel knew from recent personal experience that nothing could have truly prepared his mate for the feeling of actually holding your Andaluzyian crystal. The emotions passed hard and fast through his mate's eyes, most still beyond his grasp to identify within himself left alone anyone else despite how far he'd come in his understanding of them. The ones he did recognize only increased his longing to commence the actual bonding and share them all with Dean.  
  


* * *

  
  
The moment that the Andaluzyian crystal touched his hands, any illusions that Dean'd had of having been prepared for this moment were instantly and thoroughly shattered into a million tiny pieces. It made him think of his and Castiel's recent experience with their kalsika in both the power and the sheer intensity of it and yet it was totally different.  
  
Dean was absolutely no stranger when it came to knowing his own soul, indeed he was quite probably the human who knew his soul the best out of all living beings, and even still he was hopelessly overwhelmed by his sudden awareness of it now. His lover hadn't been kidding in the slightest when Castiel had said that this was nothing like any of the other soul things that he'd experienced before. He couldn't even begin to think about  _comparing_  them let alone actually understanding it!  
  
All that Dean knew was that he felt incredibly open and vulnerable in a way that he never had before in his life. It felt like his soul had always been folded somehow and hidden away even when Michael or Castiel had touched and held it before. But not anymore. No, now it felt open, exposed for everyone to see and touch.  
  
And hurt.  
  
The latter made Dean shudder and he wanted to draw back, to tuck his soul away again the way that it had been before, safe and sound within his meatsuit where most people couldn't reach it let alone actually harm it. The memories of Hell were quick to return to him after months of silence, reminding him of just how easily and how much pain the soul could feel and all of that had been before it had been this laid bare for anyone to do with as they pleased. It was like all of his worst fears about vulnerability magnified a hundred thousand times in a way that he'd never even been able to imagine before and yet, at the same time, there was something else there as well. Something he couldn't quite identify but which demanded his attention nonetheless.  
  
With a concerted effort, Dean tried to push aside his other feelings to focus on this other thing. When he finally did so, it was like being dunked into a tank full of loneliness and longing and for a moment he was sure that he'd drown in it all. He floundered, desperately scrambling for the surface, panic seeping in before he finally managed to pull himself back out again.  
  
What the Hell?  
  
The unexpected and chaotic jumble of emotions within him took Dean a moment to work through, but when he did he felt shaken to his very core. Just as the kalsika had made it impossible for him to either hide from or deny Castiel's true feelings for him, the Andaluzyian crystal made it impossible for him to try and deceive himself, either consciously or unconsciously, as to his own thoughts and feelings. All of that impossible loneliness that he'd just felt, it was all his own and not just that which he'd felt once, briefly, but that which he'd felt so often and for so long that it had become a very integral part of himself right down to his very soul. The longing, meanwhile, was the fervent hope that he wouldn't always feel that way; that he'd one day find someone like Castiel who'd take all of the loneliness away. The problem was that he'd felt it for so long and had so adamantly refused to see it that it had grown inwards and planted its roots so exceptionally deep that even now, after all of the time that he'd spent with his lover and all that they'd shared, it still hadn't entirely gone away.  
  
The realization was enough to take Dean's breath away in stunned shock. Now that he was aware of it, he couldn't understand how it hadn't always been obvious to him and he wondered just how far in denial he'd been to be able to overlook it so completely for all these years. Naturally, since he was still holding the Andaluzyian crystal, he quickly found out  _exactly_  how he'd managed it and the urge to simply drop the crystal rose within him. The only reason that he didn't was because while his angel had taken a step back after passing the crystal to him, Castiel hadn't looked away from him, not even for a moment, and so he could see the sheer longing and love within his lover's blue eyes.  
  
That was enough to remind Dean of everything that he'd felt when they'd both held their kalsika which in turn introduced a new element to his thoughts. Yes he was still experiencing all of the openness and vulnerability from before, but now he couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to experience that  _with Castiel_  and his lover's Grace all around him, equally open and free.  
  
To be that closely bonded with his angel.  
  
The mere thought was enough to make Dean's heart start to race and all of the love and desire he felt for Castiel came rushing back over him, easily washing aside any and all doubts and fears. It was almost frightening in a way just how quickly it was all gone despite the vulnerability he still felt, though even that was starting to morph and fade. It just seemed impossible to feel vulnerable with his angel around, not when he  _knew_  the lengths to which Castiel would go not only at his request, but also for him as well.  
  
It simply removed all of his fears and reservations and Dean was instead left with the burning desire to feel his lover's Grace as open and free as his soul was and, most importantly, to join with it forevermore. To never be alone or vulnerable again, ever.  
  



	140. Chapter 139

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Castiel bond.

**PAST**  
  
  
The desire to bond  _now_  rose so swiftly and strongly within Dean that he'd taken a few steps forward before he'd even thought about it. It wasn't until a wall of dark brown features appeared before him, blocking his view of his lover, that he realized what he was doing.  
  
"Dean, stop," Michael stated, stepping closer but being careful not to actually touch him.  
  
"Mike?"  
  
"There is something else we must discuss before you do this."  
  
"What? Why?"  
  
"Here, put it down."  
  
"But-"  
  
"It's okay, Little One, I'm not going to stand in the way of your bonding."  
  
"Please put it down, Dean," Castiel added.  
  
Dean tried to look at his angel, but his friend's wings were still in the way. Part of him wanted to simply brush Michael's wings aside and just bond with his lover, but the rest of him, the logical part, knew that neither Castiel nor Michael would request this of him without a valid reason. His decision was made when his friend held out the embroidered pillow one of his neighbors had given him along with a terrific pie after he'd fixed her car engine when it had broken down in the parking lot just as she'd really needed to pick up her daughter at the airport.  
  
With a great deal of effort, Dean placed the Andaluzyian crystal onto the pillow. The moment that he let go of it, there was an overwhelming sense of relief and loss as his soul was freed from the crystal's power and allowed to close itself back up once more. The disjoint made him stagger sideways a little, right into his lover's arms.  
  


* * *

  
  
The look of vulnerability that had entered his mate's eyes at the end just before Dean had moved towards him had made Castiel hesitate for a moment. Though he wished to share the openness of his human's soul with that of his Grace, he didn't want to damage Dean either. The way his mate had come towards him, however, with all doubt seemingly erased in an instant reminded him that things which looked bad at first weren't always so. Their kalsika had essentially  _broken_  his hunter after all and yet he'd never seen Dean happier than after that moment. Perhaps this was the same?  
  
"Dean?" he inquired.  
  
"I'm okay, losing its influence just caught me off-guard," Dean replied. "Why did I need to put it down anyway?"  
  
"Because there is something we need to discuss first."  
  
"Yeah? What?"  
  
"The way the bonding works means that you would no longer be able to be my vessel if you and Castiel were to just do it normally," Michael explained.  
  
"Oh," Dean said simply, but Castiel could read the sudden conflict in his mate's eyes.  
  
It validated his decision to go collect his brother before coming here and Castiel was glad for his restraint and foresight. Dean had once told him that he'd been his mate's first true friend, which meant that Michael was only Dean's second and he knew only all too well what that meant, having only ever had three friends himself, two of which he now saw as having betrayed him as well as his mate. He would do all that he could to ensure that Dean was able to keep his relationship with Michael unchanged now that he knew his hunter didn't mind letting his brother in for short periods of time. The fact that it was probably also the best strategic decision as far as the Apocalypse was concerned was secondary.  
  
"Cas?" Dean inquired, turning to look at him, seeking an answer.  
  
"Don't worry, there is a way around it."  
  
"Without weakening the bonding?"  
  
"Yes, do not fear, Little One," Michael reassured. "It will not do anything to adversely affect your bonding. This will be fine so long as both Castiel and I accept each other's presence."  
  
Dean's eyes narrowed at that and Castiel had to suppress a laugh as he knew exactly what about that sentence had annoyed his mate. It was at times like this that he could understand what had inspired his brother to give Dean the moniker Little One. His human's defiance was precious at times and he could only imagine how much more Michael saw it as such, having always been an archangel and thus as powerful as his brother was now. Having always believed himself to be second only to Father in sheer power he could see that Michael would find such behavior as Dean's almost incomprehensible at first and endearing even when his brother had gotten to know his vessel better.  
  
Castiel prudently decided to keep that particular revelation to himself, for everyone's sake and sanity.  
  
"Dude, I'm right here and it's me we're talking about here!" Dean protested.  
  
"Yes, but your compliance in this matter is already assured," Michael replied easily.  
  
When his mate scowled and muttered darkly under his breath about freaking angels, Castiel was unable to suppress his amusement any more and he laughed softly, serving to draw his mate's glare towards himself. Not giving Dean a chance to speak, he kissed the tip of his mate's nose. Predictably, his hunter scrunched his nose and he'd never tell Dean how adorable he looked like that as he knew his mate would take offense to the sentiment.  
  
"So what do we need to do?" Dean inquired.  
  
"Michael will reach out to you and ensure that your connection is as strong as possible so that when we take the Andaluzyian crystal together it is, in essence, highlighted and won't be accidentally cut off when we bond," Castiel explained.  
  
His mate simply nodded but Castiel could see that Dean understood that this would leave him completely open to Michael as well as himself though his brother's Grace wouldn't be similarly affected by the crystal as Michael would never be touching it directly. He hoped that it wouldn't be a sticking point after everything the two had already shared, but he knew how difficult it would be for his mate.  
  
Dean seemed to need a moment to think it through before his human looked back at Michael and nodded. "Let's do it."  
  
The words sent a shiver of anticipation through Castiel and on some level he couldn't quite believe that this was actually happening. He was  _finally_  going to bond completely with Dean. He'd wanted this for so long even if he'd never allowed himself to seriously consider it that it almost didn't feel real. He could still easily recall his shock, disbelief and pure elation when he'd arrived in this very room and found his mate kneeling before an altar of Ru'ena in a purity circle.  
  
His daze was broken as Michael stepped up to Dean and placed a hand on his mate's back. Castiel watched as Dean's eyes and mouth glowed with the light of his brother's Grace as Michael reached out across their connection, strengthening it, before the light died down and he was seeing his mate through Dean's eyes once more.  
  
Carefully, Castiel picked up their crystal from where Michael had placed it and he took a moment to just experience its effect upon his Grace and to savor the anticipation of what was to come. Then he locked his eyes on those of his mate as he stepped even closer to Dean so that there was hardly any space between them anymore.  
  
"Are you ready?" Castiel asked.  
  
"Yes."  
  
It was just one word, but Castiel could hear all of Dean's unwavering conviction in it and time seemed to slow as his mate reached up to lay his own hands next to his on their crystal. Earth along with any and all awareness of the physical realm was instantly eclipsed the moment that Dean made contact and the power of the crystal opened his mate's soul to him. Their existing connection was blown wide open in a way he hadn't even known was possible and his every sense- his every awareness- was filled with  _Dean_.  
  
Any notion that Castiel had ever had of  _knowing_  his mate's soul and its strength and light were instantly shattered as he got to experience the full extent of it. Already it had been the purest and brightest soul he'd ever seen but now, now it reminded him far more of the Grace of one of his brothers or sisters than the soul of a human and he was once more enthralled by his mate as well as his Father's power and intentions when creating His Righteous Man.  
  
The sheer amazement, love and vulnerability Castiel could feel coming from Dean shook him out of his daze and he reached forwards with his Grace to touch and intertwine with his mate's soul. Touching it now was unlike anything that he'd ever experienced before and he burrowed into the sensation, feeling the emotions that he'd only ever felt directly from their time with their kalsika wash over him and bathe his Grace in their intensity. The whole experience was so mind-blowing that he hardly knew how to take it all in and he now understood why the ritual with the kalsika was necessary beforehand.  
  
It was as their essences were merging and twining with each other that Castiel suddenly came up against Dean's connection with Michael. Briefly he was amazed at how weak and flimsy it seemed to him now, even strengthened and active as it was at the moment and he realized how easily it would have been broken otherwise. As he gently encircled it, he felt a ripple of acknowledgement from his brother and felt how heavily Michael had shielded himself to give Dean (or  _them_  Castiel suddenly realized) as much privacy in this as it was possible to have under the circumstances. There was something oddly familiar about the process and it was with a jolt that he realized that he was now basically doing what his brother had done for him when Michael had first taken Dean as his vessel as his brother could have snapped his connection with his mate just as easily as he could do theirs now.  
  
There was a wave of gratitude from Dean and, just like that, all of Castiel's attention was once again focused solely on his mate and their bonding.  
  


* * *

  
  
Dean had absolutely no reference for what he was currently experiencing but for once there was entirely no wariness or fear whatsoever. There was  _Castiel_  and that seemed to make everything else okay. Just how easily and readily that eased everything was still somewhat of a novelty for him, but it no longer elicited either surprise or fear within him, not anymore.  
  
The feel of his lover was all around him and Dean had long since given up trying to understand the how and why of it and just given into it all. Instead all he did now was try to bury himself in the feel of his angel and the way Castiel felt for him had become his whole world. Everything that he had missed so desperately after they'd released their kalsika was back now, all of the love, adoration, possessiveness and everything else that he had yet to figure out. It was all there again, all around him. Beyond the brief awareness that he'd had of Michael, Castiel consumed his whole world and he did his best to add to it and reciprocate. There was some kind of abstract sense of movement, as of water from two sources flowing over and through one another and the strength of their connection, of their growing  _bond_ , seemed to ebb and flow with the awareness so he tried to cause more of it. To reach out with his soul and touch as much of his lover's Grace as he possibly could.  
  
The knowledge that he was really touching Castiel now instead of merely a vessel through which his angel interacted with the world delighted Dean and awed him. He could hardly believe that this was all real, much less happening to him here and now. It all seemed so fantastical and surreal and yet so unbelievable  _real_  at the same time that it hurt his mind to try and figure it all out so he didn't. He'd never been one to over-analyze anything and he saw absolutely no need to start doing so now of all times. Not when it felt so amazingly good to just let go and go with the flow.  
  
" _Dean._ "  
  
The voice captured Dean's full attention immediately, not only because it said his name, but also because he recognized it. He recognized it from when he'd been with Michael and his friend had been contacted by Castiel. It was his lover's voice; his lover's  _true_  voice.  
  
" _Cas,_ " Dean breathed, voice heavy and thick with more emotion then he could identify.  
  
" _Beloved._ "  
  
The endearment choked Dean up and he responded by clinging to Castiel even tighter, projecting all that he felt and couldn't verbalize through their bond, knowing it would reach his angel far more clearly that way than anything he could say. His lover responded in kind and if things kept up like this, then he'd never again be able to claim that he either disliked or detested emotions or the sharing thereof. Though, to be fair, it had never been like this before, nor would it ever be this easy or painless with anyone else.  
  
As if sensing at least part of his thoughts, Castiel  _pulsed_  around him, a flare of possessiveness washing over Dean and he knew instantly what part of his train of thought his angel was reacting too. It still secretly (or, honestly, not so secretly anymore now he was sure) thrilled him to think that his lover could be that jealous of him, which of course did nothing to moderate the behavior in Castiel. Not that he wanted it tempered, but he knew that if he were more emotionally healthy that he would, though he still firmly believed that being emotionally balanced and healthy was seriously overrated at best. After all, look at him and Castiel now. Neither of them would ever be considered emotionally balanced by anyone with half a brain and yet he couldn't possibly  _imagine_  being happier or feeling more loved and wanted than he was right now.  
  
Dean could honestly say at the moment that he was so happy (elated, joyful, ecstatic, euphoric,  _whatever_ ) that he didn't know what to do with it all. It was quite literally blowing his mind and he could only hang on and enjoy the ride. There were more emotions and feelings washing through him now than he'd ever experienced before in his life combined but it didn't bother him in the slightest. In fact his only fear was that it would all die down and that he'd lose it, at least it did right up until the moment that he remembered that this bond was  _eternal_. He would  _never_  be alone again, no matter what happened Castiel would still be there, whether it be on Earth or in Heaven, his lover would now always be able to find him and be with him. Not to mention the fact that he'd always be able to  _feel_  Castiel, even if they were separated from each other.  
  
That perpetual awareness of his lover was what Dean looked forward to most as it was when they were apart and he was alone that he always felt at his worst. Just being able to sense Castiel, even if only at the back of his mind, would change everything. The ability to just reach out and touch his angel's Grace or to speak with him even while apart were also things he couldn't wait to gain. His time with Michael had spoiled him as far as all of that was concerned and he'd long since wanted to be able to do it on his own.  
  
There was a  _shift_  and suddenly Dean found himself better able to grasp what was going on around him. He wasn't sure if something had changed externally or if some change had been wrought within him, but either way he didn't really care. Castiel was now more distinct and he could almost see the two of them in a way that reminded him of when he was with Michael, only instead of his soul being cocooned within his friend's Grace, his soul was now intertwining itself with his lover's Grace, meshing into a complex latticework as if forming a new entity altogether and he absently wondered how they were supposed to separate after this. Not that the thought of not being able to do so worried him in the slightest. He could think of far worse things than being permanently stuck to Castiel on this level. Far worse things really.  
  
Castiel was everywhere now and Dean was starting to be able to detect individual thoughts of his lover and he closed his eyes and just basked in it all, letting his soul bathe in the love and desire and  _forever_  of it all. Each new connection between them of a tendril of soul finding Grace or vice versa was like a warm caress and he arched into it like a spoiled cat, purring and having absolutely no intention of letting go or moving any time soon.  
  
At some point Dean felt a flicker of awareness, feeling Michael at the edge of his mind and soul before all sense of his friend vanished and he knew that the archangel had left the two of them alone. He felt a touch of concern before it was soothed away by his lover and instead he burrowed himself even deeper into Castiel, encircled and encircling his lover all at once.  
  



	141. Chapter 140

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The honeymoon.

**PAST**  
  
  
When the crystal's power finally started to fade, the physical realm slowly began returning to Castiel's awareness and he was surprised to find both himself and Dean lying in their bed. He frowned slightly in confusion before recalling that Michael had been in the room with them during the commencement of their bonding so his brother must have brought them here prior to leaving. He smiled at how human the sentiment was and he couldn't help but marvel at what a huge influence his bond mate had been on his brother.  
  
The thought reminded Castiel of his previous fear and instinctive jealousy of Michael and Dean's connection and how much he'd wanted to keep his oldest brother from being present at their bonding. Being on the other end of the process now, he could easily see both how groundless and needless those worries had been. Though his brother had been present for the bonding, it clearly hadn't had any adverse effect on the resulting bond, not from what he could feel of it. In fact he'd hardly even been aware of Michael's presence except for when he'd stumbled across the angel-vessel bond the two of them shared. Even now he could only just detect it if he tried looking for it.  
  
Of course Castiel realized that would change drastically when Michael took Dean once more, but the fondness and affection he could feel from his bond mate towards Dean's connection with Michael quelled any remaining doubts that might have lingered from before. There was absolutely no way to fake those emotions on such a completely soul level as what he was seeing now. So while unconventional he knew it to be completely pure and true.  
  
Once he'd started inspecting the bond and what he could pick up from Dean, Castiel found it impossible to stop. Though their Andaluzyian crystal's power had been completely used up by now, the strength of their remaining bond still stunned and amazed him as it was far stronger than he'd ever dared to hope that it would be. It allowed him to feel his bond mate's soul surprisingly well given that it had already started to return to its more normal folded and closed off state. It also took him absolutely no effort to detect that the bonding had exhausted Dean and his hunter was slowly drifting off instead of waking like him. That was okay though as he was more than happy to just bask in the total sense of safety and complete bliss that Dean radiated.  
  
Castiel tuned out most of his surroundings to focus on his bond mate and their new connection. He was endlessly fascinated by the way that Dean, even subconsciously, was manipulating their bond, both clinging to it and wrapping it around his soul in such a way as to maximize its power and exposure to his soul. He really shouldn't be surprised after all of the other things that his bond mate was so effortlessly proficient at, but it still did and he hoped that his hunter would never cease to be able to both surprise and amaze him.  
  
When Dean's grip on their crystal loosened and his bond mate shifted to lie more comfortably against him, Castiel reached out and lifted the crystal away. It had lost it's mostly clear color and taken on an iridescent sparkle illuminated by a light from within that reflected the strength of their new bond. Just touching it was enough to elicit a ghost of the feelings that had been channelled through it, captured within their crystal for all time and for anyone to experience who touched it; a testament to their love for one another. No doubt it would find its home within this very room alongside their kalsika. Well, unless Dean decided that he wanted one of them in the other room to view during the day. For now though he carefully set it aside on the table next to the bed where his bond mate would once have kept the lube and which hotels seemed to love using to store Bibles in.  
  
The stark contrast made Castiel smile, knowing that Dean had probably started doing it for the irony as much as for the convenience of having it so close, especially since his hunter never unpacked anything other than what was strictly necessary in case he'd needed to make a hasty exit for one reason or another.  
  
This particular train of thought about Bibles and religion led Castiel to think about his Father. It had been a while since he'd done so for more than just a few seconds. Although things weren't going fantastically, they had scored some pretty big victories and with both Michael and Raphael on their side it had all just seemed less hopeless than the last time they had been here. He did still occasionally wonder if his Father was out there, watching them and, if so, what He thought but he no longer worried over it. At the very least he knew that his Father approved of some of what he'd done or He'd never have resurrected him, but he couldn't even begin to guess at how much his Father was aware of or why He didn't intervene but he no longer agonized over it as he had before. Not only had he learned that they really could make a difference on their own, but his loss of faith had come at far too high a price to ever bear repeating it again.  
  
Just the mere memory had Castiel shuddering and pulling his bond mate closer to him. The love and reassurance that suddenly washed over him caught him by surprise but then he realized that his negative emotions must have been transmitted across the bond to Dean and, even asleep, his bond mate had reacted to it and instinctively sought to soothe him. He sent his gratitude back and tried to keep the horror and regret of how his loss of faith had affected Dean at such a critical period to himself. Though his hunter would never voice it, he knew that had been a contributing factor to Dean's decision to try and surrender himself to Michael which had, of course, only served to increase his own overall downward spiral. Even back then before their relationship had evolved to that of mates, let alone bond mates, they had already been inexorably tied to and dependent on each other.  
  
Castiel forced his attention to more cheerful thoughts but knew that he'd never forget the lessons that he'd learned from that experience. They had been far too hard won and painful to ever,  _ever_  risk any of it transpiring again. Instead he focused his attention on the bond itself, slowly exploring every inch of it and enjoying both the power and the feel of it.  
  
The awareness that it gave him of his bond mate's soul was unrivalled and something that he knew that he'd never grow tired of or be any less fascinated by.  
  


* * *

  
  
His dream had been so unbelievably wonderful that Dean clung to it for as long as possible even as he started to wake. It was one of many kalsika inspired dreams, though it seemed far more vivid and real than any of the previous ones that he'd had.  
  
Castiel just seemed to be  _right there_ , practically inside of him. No, Dean was so not ready to let that end; to let it fade in the cold light of day as all of the other dreams had before. No matter what he tried, though, he could feel the dream slipping away and he'd just resigned himself to the inevitable when he realized that while sleep had left him, his sense of  _Castiel_  had not.  
  
Suddenly Dean was wide awake and he'd already shoved himself upright on one arm before it all came back to him and he could only stare down, wide-eyed, at his lover. The sheer  _shock_  of the bond's presence was so unlike anything that he could truly have prepared himself for that it kept him silent as he scrambled to wrap his mind around it. Castiel merely returned his gaze as he did so, slowly realizing that he was far more aware of his very soul than he ever had been before while alone in his meatsuit.  
  
It was...  
  
Dean didn't have words for it. He felt oddly full in a way, like he'd always been hungry for something and had never been sated until now and the feeling was so completely unfamiliar to him as to be slightly jarring, but not in a way that he didn't think he could get used to if given the chance. The memory of how lonely he'd felt holding their Andaluzyian crystal alone made him wonder if this was what most people felt normally and which he'd just been missing out on all of those years. It was a slightly disturbing thought and it would mean that Sam, the little bitch, had been right all along in saying that he'd been damaged in some way by the hunter lifestyle, at least emotionally anyway. All of a sudden his little brother's constant nagging made a whole lot more sense to him now if something like this had been what Sam had always wanted him to have. Not that he'd ever tell his brother that, of course.  
  
He felt a little bit like a stranger in his own body or, well, emotionally anyway, but Dean didn't even stop to think of rejecting any of it either even if it had been possible to do so. Despite being almost entirely foreign to him, it all felt so unbelievably  _fantastic_  that he couldn't really complain, especially not after how he'd felt this time last year. That thought made him shudder at even the ghost of the sheer agony and misery he'd experienced back then but before he could even think about shoving it all aside, he found himself pulled close and encompassed by his lover.  
  
On more than one level.  
  
The realization startled Dean to stillness for a while, the new awareness taking some time to process. It was different to being a vessel and having Michael so close, different but far stronger. It was something he could definitely get used to even if he was a little surprised that he wasn't feeling in the least bit claustrophobic by both this and the foreign sensation of fullness that he was still experiencing. Normally he wasn't able to handle things like this nearly so well, but now his first response was to just melt into his angel, both physically and- and however his soul did the equivalent of it. Spiritually? That sounded wrong, far too religious for him, but if this wasn't some kind of religious experience then he didn't know what was so, spiritually it was.  
  
Castiel's love and desire to both protect and please him washed over Dean in what was starting to become a familiar way and he greeted it with all of the joy and comfort that realization brought him. One of his lover's hands came up to cup his face and he leaned into the touch, closing his eyes and simply enjoying it and everything else. The fact that he could spend so long simply basking in something so emotional was weird but he didn't feel the usual urge to do or say something stupid or provocative in order to elicit a reaction that would lead to other things. It sometimes amazed him how much and how easily his lover had changed him since they'd gotten together.  
  
His lover.  
  
Given that the bonding they'd just undergone was the closest angelic equivalent to marriage, it was with a start that Dean realized that Castiel was now really his husband rather than merely his lover. Or rather the angelic equivalent thereof.  
  
"So, we're truly mates now, right?" Dean checked, voice soft.  
  
"Bond mates," Castiel replied.  
  
"Bond mates?"  
  
"Yes, Beloved."  
  
The use of that endearment again sent a thrill through Dean, instantly bringing back the last time his angel had used it and what had been happening then. Feeling a tenderness he'd rather die than admit to out loud, he reached up and kissed his bond mate husband. Castiel returned it as softly, his angel's hand sliding up into his hair to cradle his head. He wasn't sure how long they simply kissed for before he began to deepen their connection, suddenly wanting to know just what sex would feel like with their new bond. If it was anything at all like the bonding itself then he wasn't sure how they'd ever get out of bed again as he'd be more than happy to just spend the rest of his life like that.  
  
Dean moaned as the bond seemed to come alive in a way with the increasing intensity of their emotions and when their clothes vanished it wasn't a moment too soon. He shifted slightly so that he was laying completely on top of Castiel before he rolled his hips, bringing their cocks together. His angel moaned into the kiss, Castiel's free arm coming up to clutch at his back before sliding down to encourage his movements, not that he needed any more encouragement. Just the feel of his husband's desire and lust was enough to spur him on, especially with how it was interwoven with both tenderness and love.  
  
"Dean, Beloved," Castiel breathed as he released his angel's lips and began working his way down his husband's chin and throat.  
  
With one hand, Dean reached down between them to take hold of both of them while with his other hand, he reached out to grasp a handful of feathers to tug at. The resulting reaction from Castiel was entirely expected, but the wave of pure pleasure and arousal that washed over him wasn't and it took him a moment to get his brain working again, let alone figure out what had caused it. When he did, he couldn't resist tugging at the feathers again, delighted at being able to feel exactly what this did for his angel.  
  
"Dean!" Castiel cried out, bucking wildly beneath him. "More, now, please!"  
  
Much as Dean wanted to continue to tease his husband and drive him to dizzying heights of both arousal and pleasure, he wasn't entirely sure how long he himself would last with the feedback loop of emotions the bond was turning out to be and he wanted to actually be inside his angel when he came. Therefore instead of toying with Castiel's wings any further, he reached for his angel's oil nubs instead and began milking them. His husband cried out at that and let his legs fall open, shamelessly begging with his body to be fucked. He growled, nipping at the soft skin at the base of Castiel's throat, his hips rocking forward harder than before at his husband's reaction.  
  
The sheer intensity of the emotions flying hard and fast between them was mind-boggling but Dean found himself unable to truly try and understand any of it as they spurred him on, driving them ever higher.  _Castiel_  was all that he could sense and feel around him so even as he was focused on preparing his lo- husband for him, it took him a little while to realize that something about the sensation was different from before. When he looked up it was to find Castiel glowing faintly with what he instantly recognized as Grace light. The sight was mesmerizing and he found himself unable to tear his eyes away until his husband made a protesting sound.  
  
"Dean," Castiel moaned, shifting a leg up to grant easier access and bringing the other around Dean's waist, pulling him closer.  
  
It was all the encouragement that Dean needed and he pulled his fingers out of his angel, shifting to line himself up with Castiel's loosened and oil-slicked entrance. As he slowly thrust forwards, sinking into his husband, the Grace light grew brighter and he could only watch in awe as the gorgeous black wings beneath Castiel seemed to almost dissolve, changing from physical manifestations into something else entirely. Soon he was looking at the Grace and light and  _power_  wings that he'd seen on his lover back when Castiel had been stuck in that trap in Teotihuacan. The sight left him breathless and when he began to move again, he was running purely on instinct, the desire for  _more, now_  and to be closer to his husband driving him on. One hand was on his angel's hip, guiding his movements so he could thrust as deep as possible, angled just right to hit Castiel's prostate with each and every thrust.  
  
His other hand was reaching out towards his husband, inexorably drawn to the essence of Castiel's true form. Although Dean had seen it before, he'd never been able to touch it while in his meatsuit and he found that he wanted to do nothing more than exactly that just now.  
  
"Cas," Dean whispered reverently.  
  
Then his hand was touching his angel's Grace and it was like touching a live wire. Shock and power and  _Castiel_  flooding him and it was all that Dean could do not to come right then and there, though he mewled helplessly at the sensation, hips snapping forwards and driving him even deeper into Castiel.  
  
"Dean!" Castiel keened, reaching up to grab the scar on his shoulder.  
  
It was like there were three separate bonds between them now and Dean was bombarded by far more emotions that he could identify, each as intense as the sun itself. Despite that he found his gaze locked with that of his angel and nothing could have made him glance away just then. To see Castiel even as he was feeling him was unbelievably amazing and he would have said that it couldn't get any better except that then it did. More of his angel seemed to shimmer and glow and then there was more of Castiel's Grace- of his true form- visible and if he couldn't still  _see_  his husband behind Jimmy's blue eyes he'd think that Castiel had completely left his vessel but he hadn't, simply slipping out of part of it.  
  
Any thoughts about what his husband was planning vanished as Castiel touched him with his Grace and then Dean could feel him inside of himself, brushing his soul and...  
  
Dean's mind practically short-circuited as he realized that his angel was taking him even as he took Castiel. His hips snapped back and forth, completely unable to decide if he rather thrust back against the feel of the Grace penetrating him from behind or if he'd rather trust forward, burying himself as deep as he possibly could into Castiel's tight and welcoming heat. He mewled, trembling as the pleasure, love, desire, lust, possessiveness and claiming spiralled ever higher all around him, Castiel everywhere. Inside, outside and all around him and throughout it all their eyes were still locked together.  
  
He wasn't sure which of them came first, it was all so tied together, coalescing into a single ball of  _need, love, desire_  within him but whichever of them it was, the other was pulled right over the edge with them and the last thing Dean saw was a brief glimpse of a panther and a mouse before it was just Castiel he was seeing and then it was all unimaginable pleasure, light and love.


	142. Chapter 141

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raphael welcomes Dean to the family in his own special way.

**PAST**  
  
  
For the second time in a relatively short period of time, Raphael had found himself reacting instinctively with Dean Winchester, not that he'd come to regret either instance thereof. Far from it, in fact, especially now, but still the fact remained and would require some thought at some point to see if he couldn't figure out the cause of his strange behavior. But that was for later and not now.  
  
Not when he had far more amusing things to focus his attention on.  
  
"Not funny, Raph," Dean growled. "Knock it off!"  
  
Raphael paused for a moment, as if to consider it, before reaching out with his Grace to poke it once more. His brother's new bond mate yelped and jumped and he was no longer able to contain his amusement, laughing aloud.  
  
"Dude, not cool!" Dean protested, scowling and backing up a few paces.  
  
As if that would prevent him from being able to do it again, but Raphael chose to keep that particular detail to himself for the moment. "Or else what?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Well you normally back things like that up with some colorful, if impossible, threat of bodily harm."  
  
"I hate you."  
  
The tone told Raphael that Dean was not being truthful. "No, you do not."  
  
"Yes I do. I totally and completely hate you," the hunter insisted, crossing his arms across his chest.  
  
As much as he had learned about humans, Raphael still failed to understand why it was that they insisted on uttering lies such as this though he was content enough with the knowledge that he could now tell that Dean was being dishonest in this manner. Instead he tried to decide if he wished to prod his new bond brother's bond again. It had been pure curiosity and instinct that had led him to doing it the first time, having done the same after Raziel and Jophiel had first bonded and being terribly amused by the reaction that had evoked back then. Just like his brother, Dean had responded far too well to not do it again, and again. So, really, there was no decision to make.  
  
With more glee than he knew he should be experiencing with this, Raphael reached out with his Grace once more.  
  
"Raph!" Dean yelped, unable to prevent himself from jumping at the feeling of it.  
  
Castiel would be annoyed with him for teasing his new bond mate this way, but Raphael really couldn't help himself. Not when Dean's soul sputtered and sparked along with the human's more physical reactions to the teasing. Like how his new bond brother's eyes narrowed at him now even as Dean pointed a finger at him.  
  
"So help me, Raph, if you don't cut that out right now, I'll... I'll... I'll pluck you bald and use the feathers for a new pillow!"  
  
Well, Raphael had to admit  _that_  was a new threat. Only- "I have more feathers than any human pillow could hold."  
  
"So it'll be a matching set along with a comforter. You'll still be bald."  
  
He really could see why Michael had thought his vessel precious once his brother had gotten to know Dean. All it took was one little-  
  
"Raphael!"  
  
It was nearly as if his thoughts had summoned his brother as Michael arrived just in time to hear Dean's latest protest and his brother frowned, looking between them. Before he could even begin to think of what to say, Castiel arrived as well and wariness filled him at the glare his younger brother aimed his way.  
  
"You would do well to cease while you are ahead," Castiel stated dryly. "If you have not already gone too far."  
  
Michael frowned. "What has he done?"  
  
"He has been teasing Dean by toying with the bond as it settles."  
  
"Ah," Michael replied, looking at him. "Like you did with Raziel."  
  
Raphael opened his mouth to reply but instead of speaking he yelped and jumped as some of his feathers were suddenly  _tugged_  sharply. In turning his attention towards his brothers, he'd completely lost track of where Dean was, which had clearly been a mistake. Turning his head, he found that his new bond brother had used the opportunity to get close and grasp hold of one of his wings with both hands.  
  
"Not so funny anymore now, is it?" Dean questioned with another good tug.  
  
Despite the fact that he'd known it was coming, Raphael couldn't quite stifle his response and Dean smiled at it. A quick glance at his brothers proved that neither Michael nor Castiel was at all inclined to help him.  
  
"You must now lie in the bed," Castiel merely stated, though his brother sounded a little unsure of himself.  
  
"What bed?"  
  
Dean snorted. "The one you made."  
  
"I did not make a bed," Raphael stated, confused.  
  
"It's an expression. You made your bed and now you must lie in it, or something like that. Means it's your own fault so deal with the consequences."  
  
Humans were strange. Raphael already knew this but it still surprised him sometimes just  _how_  strange they could be. "That makes no sense. Besides I have no need to lie in a bed."  
  
"I didn't make it up. Now, if I let go will you stop?"  
  
"For now."  
  
His words made Dean's eyes narrow, but Raphael met the gaze head-on. There was absolutely no way was he giving up on it entirely, not when the human's soul was still sparking from it.  
  
"Do not worry, Little One, he will not be able to do it for long," Michael said, making him scowl. "It only works while the bond is new."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Dean considered this for a moment, looking at him. "I should make you give it up entirely."  
  
"Afraid, Brother?" Raphael baited.  
  
The words visibly affected Dean, not how Raphael had intended them too, though it did get his wing released and he instantly drew it back, out of reach. Absently he noted that he'd been right about how a human touch would affect them even if this kind of contact definitely hadn't been what he'd thought it would be.  
  
"Brother?" Dean repeated, shocked, his eyes widening before they sought out Castiel. "Oh, right, of course."  
  
"Hadn't thought about that?" Castiel asked, appearing behind his bond mate and soothing him.  
  
"No, I'd just forgotten about it, 's all."  
  
Raphael was about to comment, not able to let that go when Dean suddenly blanched and he stepped closer, alarmed. "Dean?"  
  
"Crap, that means Lucifer," Dean stated. "And Simiel, and Zachariah, and Uriel, and-"  
  
Though his friend cut off, Raphael saw the way Dean's eyes flickered upwards, towards Heaven, and he could only assume that his new bond brother meant Father. Given some of what he had heard Dean say about Father, he was glad the human had cut off instead of repeating any one of those. The fact that Dean felt the need to put Father in the same group as Zachariah, Uriel and Simiel, let alone Lucifer was already too much as far as he was concerned, but he couldn't think of anything to say either. He'd already tried to change his new bond brother's mind and not only hadn't that worked, but he'd found himself unable to successfully counter some of the things that Dean had to say. The message that his friend had received from Joshua bothered him as much as it did all of his other siblings who knew about it. If Father knew what was going on, then why did He do so little?  
  
Why didn't He intervene or tell them what to do?  
  
It was a line of questioning that Raphael was not comfortable with and one he would have deemed blasphemous if Castiel had not done so and not only been resurrected, but elevated to the status of archangel as well. He'd never have thought that Father would want them to question Him, it just went against every natural instinct he'd been created with.  
  
"Dean?" Castiel inquired worriedly, turning his hunter around to face him.  
  
"It's okay, I'm okay, really," Dean replied. "I just- I knew this already, I mean I did, I just, you know, kinda forgot."  
  
"You? Forget family?" Michael teased lightly.  
  
"Shut up, it's new to me. I mean,  _I'm_  used to being the big brother. Even when we discovered Adam's existence, I was still the oldest. And now-"  
  
"And now you have thousands of older siblings."  
  
"Oh shit, thousands."  
  
With a moan, Dean buried his face in Castiel's chest and Raphael felt his lips twitch again. He was not used to seeing his new bond brother being so emotional and it was amusing. Especially since he knew that even now Dean had little concept of how many angels there actually were.  
  
"Hush, Beloved," Castiel soothed, stroking the back of Dean's head. "Come, I believe it is time for us to go. Your brother and Bobby should be arriving at your chosen location soon."  
  
That seemed to be the right thing to say as Raphael could see Dean pulling himself together when he stepped back.  
  
"Yeah, you're right," Dean stated. "We should go, but we need to take the Impala as well."  
  
"Why?" Raphael asked as they had no need for the car.  
  
"Because they'll expect to see it. Neither Sam nor Bobby knows about you or Mike and they think that Cas is up in Heaven for good now. If the Impala's not there then they'll get suspicious, not to mention the fact that it will reveal more than we want them to know at the moment. They still think that I travel all over the place, hunting, and it's best for them to keep thinking that rather than to have them try and find where we might be staying."  
  
"Very well, I shall get your baby," Michael said and flew off.  
  
Normally the light teasing at the end of his brother's sentence would have been enough to make Dean pull a face at the least, but now his friend seemed to completely ignore it. Raphael didn't like that and met Castiel's worried gaze. This would be the first time that Dean saw his brother since Castiel had taken him to see Sam Winchester upon first telling Dean that his brother was out of Hell. From what he had been told by Castiel, that particular trip had not gone well at all.  
  
"Ready?" Raphael inquired.  
  
"No," Dean replied totally honest and voice strangely flat. "But that's not really relevant now is it? We  _need_  to get Sam started on his detox in order to protect him from Lucifer. Not to mention the fact that we need to warn the others about the fact that they can be vessels themselves, not that I'd expect any hunter worth their salt to just say yes to some unknown supernatural being requesting permission to use their meatsuit, but you never know."  
  
"We will be there with you," Castiel promised. "You will not be alone."  
  
Dean turned to smile at his new bond mate. "Yeah, I know, Cas."  
  
" _Give us a few minutes, Raphael,_ " Castiel said, speaking directly to him.  
  
With a nod, Raphael flew off to join Michael where his brother was already at Dean's chosen meeting location. When he arrived, he could immediately see why the hunter had chosen this particular spot and he hummed in approval. Not only would this put the other humans at ease, but it would make it impossible for them to try anything either.  
  
"You should prepare yourself, Brother," Michael said. "To not react adversely when you first see Sam Winchester."  
  
"He is that tainted?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Very well. How would you like to meet them?"  
  
"Spread out would be best, just in case they wish to try anything. Normally I would not be so inclined to take precautions, but Sam Winchester knows many of our weaknesses and what weapons can harm us."  
  
"But does he actually possess any of them?"  
  
"I do not believe so, but that has never stopped Dean."  
  
Raphael took his time checking the area as a final precaution and only returned to the car when Michael called him to say that the humans were approaching. Dean and Castiel had arrived and stood up against the Impala facing the approaching vehicles, so he stood a ways behind the car. He was the only one who had not yet met even one of the approaching humans and thus he didn't expect to interact with them in any significant manner. He would leave the talking to the others who were less likely to cause offence and anger Sam Winchester and his companions. Besides, it would not be a bad strategic move to keep his exact identity a secret for now.  
  
The moment that Sam Winchester stepped out of the car, Raphael understood why Michael had warned him. The human's soul was severely tainted both by Hell and the demon blood that Sam had voluntarily consumed. He'd known about it, sure, but to actually see it was another thing entirely. For one it was far worse than he'd assumed that it would be and for another, well, this was  _Dean's_  brother and on some level he'd been expecting a soul like that of his new bond brother. Or at least for it to have been like it once, or as close as another human soul could be to it given how unique Dean's soul really was.  
  
The combination of events resulted in Raphael being far more shocked and horrified at the state of Sam Winchester's soul than he'd expected to be, even knowing that Castiel had called his mate's brother an abomination more than once. Luckily with Michael's warning he was able to mask his emotions and appear calm and aloof. Not that he didn't think that Sam Winchester could do with knowing exactly how repulsive he'd made his own soul, but because he knew that Dean would not appreciate it. Besides, from what his friend had said, humans did not respond well to being told that they'd done something horribly wrong and could therefore do the opposite of what was necessary if you did it. He didn't understand this (surely being told you'd made mistakes would prevent you from repeating them?), but it explained why Zachariah and even Castiel had failed to get Dean and his brother to do what they'd all thought was necessary at the start.  
  
Although he'd decided not to interfere, Raphael found himself shifting his weight when Sam Winchester made to move closer to Dean. Luckily Michael moved to intervene before he had to and so he was able to keep quiet and observe each of the others in turn. Castiel had taken the time to inform both him and Michael about who he expected to show up at this meeting and he had little difficulty identifying which human was which even without Dean's greetings to some of the people present. Normally he would have dismissed most of them outright as insignificant, but the fact that all but one of them were potential vessels for Lucifer made him give them all at least some cursory attention.  
  
The shock they felt upon learning that they bore Lucifer's vessel bloodline was all genuine, so Raphael knew that none of them had been approached by his younger brother yet which was good. He hadn't expected them to have been because if Lucifer had been able to find them, then surely he'd have found Sam Winchester, but he still preferred to have his thoughts corroborated. Once he'd established that and their very real horror at the thought of housing the devil (the strongest of which, thankfully, came from Dean's brother), he turned his attention to the one human present who was not related to his friend. Or at least not directly via blood as Castiel had said that this one- Robert Singer- had once been viewed as a substitute father figure by Dean.  
  
The mere idea of a substitute for a father was still a very foreign idea to Raphael, but Castiel had explained how humans sometimes created bonds like that if their original parental figures were either inadequate or dead. His brother seemed to view John Winchester as having met both of those qualifications and not just the latter. Given that Castiel knew so much more about humans and the ways in which they interacted, he was prepared to take his little brother's word on the matter, strange as he might find it all himself.  
  
What Raphael found far more interesting were his brother's own mixed emotions towards the human. It seemed that like Dean they consisted of deep affection and cutting betrayal. Robert Singer was one of the few humans whom Castiel had considered a friend and he would have thought that this would have been enough to ensure that the hunter never strayed for who would even consider rejecting a gift as precious as an angel's goodwill? Clearly there were things he did not yet understand or still misunderstood as this human had done not only that, but he had betrayed a soul as pure as Dean's who would never have even thought about being disloyal or subversive.  
  
Raphael had assumed the man to be simply unworthy and spiteful, but now that he was able to observe Robert Singer in person he was no longer as sure. While not as good at interpreting human emotions as either Castiel or Michael, he had been improving and he could definitely detect pain and regret in the maelstrom of feelings churning away within Robert Singer. The hurt had been most pronounced at Dean's cold greeting but hadn't diminished significantly since then either.  
  
" _Oh, God! Oh, God!_ "  
  
Just like at all other times, the prayers of this unknown human female cut straight through his thoughts and Raphael was unable to do anything but hear them. He frowned, not needing to be distracted now in case his brothers needed him, but he knew that there was nothing that he could do about it.  
  
" _Oh, God! God, Raphael, I'm sorry! I- I didn't mean it, really, I never thought either of you were getting any of this. It was just a good way to vent and I know that's wrong, like totally!, but I didn't mean it. Please believe me!_ "  
  
Terror. That was absolute terror Raphael heard in her voice and he felt worry begin to develop inside of himself. Despite his best efforts, this unknown human had continued to intrigue him and he now found that he disliked hearing her in this state. Yes, she was suddenly repenting for all of her earlier casual disrespect and lack of faith but, as Dean had once pointed out to him, faith born of fear was hardly worth obtaining as it was not true faith, merely a survival reaction.  
  
" _Please, Raphael, I beg you, spare us! Surely we don't deserve this for some minor disrespect and lack of faith?_ "  
  
For once Raphael turned his full attention towards the human female and used her prayer to trace her back to a specific location. It was in Australia and when he probed the immediate area he stiffened as he sensed what felt suspiciously like Simiel's presence.  
  
" _Please have mercy, Raphael, greatest of the archangels, and save us from Lucifer's emissary!_ "  
  
They needed to leave. Now.  
  
"Michael, Castiel," Raphael said urgently, turning his attention to his brothers.


	143. Chapter 142

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Campbell family argument over Dean and the Supernatural books continues.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
"You didn't read all of the books, Christian?" Samuel demanded, disappointed.  
  
"I skimmed some of them," Christian replied. "I couldn't bear to do more than that. Waste of time if you ask me."  
  
"Then how can you still be so critical of Dean if you read at least some parts of them?"  
  
Christian snorted. "How could I not you mean? Look, Samuel, I think we've already established that you can't help but find gold in whatever it is that your precious grandson does or says regardless of actual substance. Some of us aren't so willing to oversee or ignore his many faults."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"Like the fact that he's too arrogant for his own good and overestimates his own abilities."  
  
"Christi-" Gwen began.  
  
"No, I'm serious, I mean who in their right mind goes after a djinn on their own? Especially one as active as the one that Dean went after?" Christian demanded. "Of course it got the jump on him and would have killed him if it weren't for Sam here."  
  
The words hit Samuel harder than they should have. That particular book ( _What Is and What Should Never Be_  he believed) had been particularly hard for him to read as it had shown him irrevocably all that his baby girl had lost and all that she could have had. To read about her having all of it, even if filtered through her firstborn's eyes, had been a very real challenge and yet it was a book that he'd returned to more than once just to read about her, and Dean, being so happy. The djinn were the type of supernatural creatures he hated the most as they gave their victims the illusion of having all their dreams come true even as they killed them. Or rather used it to distract them so that they could kill them.  
  
"Shit, the djinn!" Sam exclaimed, paling as he dug for his cell phone.  
  
"What?" Gwen demanded before it hit her. "Oh my God, we forgot to warn Dean about them!"  
  
"Exactly!"  
  
"Wait, you hadn't texted him about the djinn before the meeting?" Bobby demanded, incredulous.  
  
"No, I'd thought it best to tell him in person."  
  
"Sam, you idjit!"  
  
"I know! It's just that first there was Cas and then there was Michael and then all that stuff about Lucifer and I-"  
  
"Just forgot?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
The look on Bobby's face was thunderous and Samuel felt bad for his youngest grandson but there was guilt in there as well. Sam hadn't been the only one who'd completely forgotten about the djinn and if anything happened to Dean as a result then he'd never forgive himself. He could only hope that one of the angels would be able to either protect or cure Dean of the toxin if it was already too late.  
  
For the first time in a  _very_  long time, Samuel actually felt the urge to pray, though not to God. He wasn't entirely sure that he wouldn't have done so if Sam's call to his brother hadn't gone through.  
  
"Dean?" Sam questioned. "Yeah, it's me. Look, we just realized that with everything that's going on we forgot to warn you. Remember that djinn we dealt with a few years ago? Well it had kids and they-"  
  
The way his grandson suddenly cut off made Samuel's heart leap into his throat and he wanted to grab the phone for himself. Didn't those things have a loudspeaker option? He could swear that Gwen had mentioned something like that once.  
  
"Oh, they already tried to get you?" Sam asked. "Both of them, right? 'Cause there were two of- Three? Really? And you're alright?"  
  
Three of them? Two had been bad enough, but three was even worse. Samuel was sure that he'd never heard of three of them hunting together before, related to each other or not. Briefly he wished for the good old days where the supernatural had made sense actually and played by the rules before he shoved the thought aside. Wishing for it wouldn't do a damn thing and he wasn't going to waste his time on that type of thing. Instead he shared a relieved look with Bobby, glad to have someone else around who he knew for certain cared for Dean as deeply as he did. He could only hope the other hunter had been sincere in his words to Sam earlier and that Bobby really was okay with his having read the books. Him doing so had only increased his admiration for the other hunter, especially in all that Bobby had done for his grandsons.  
  
"Good, that's really good, I'm glad to hear it," Sam said, looking relieved. "Anything else? No, no, not rea- Actually, yes, there is something else that you should know about."  
  
Samuel knew what was coming from the triumphant look Sam sent his way but there was absolutely nothing that he could do to prevent it.  
  
"Samuel and Gwen decided that it would be a good idea to buy and read Chuck's books about us."  
  
Even Samuel could hear his grandson's indignant response to that as it was so loud. He took some small pleasure in the fact that Sam must have gotten his ears hurt with that volume. It was the boy's own fault really.  
  
"Dean!" Sam complained. "But, yeah, that was my response exactly. They all seem to think that it was perfectly reasonable here, even Bobby."  
  
Okay, now Samuel was really getting pissed off with Sam. It was one thing to out what he'd done to Dean while he couldn't defend himself or explain his actions, but it was another thing entirely to bring Bobby into it when Dean and Bobby's relationship was still as fragile as it was just now.  
  
"Yeah, he did," Sam continued in response to whatever Dean had said to that. "Oh, something about it being research."  
  
Sam's tone left his opinion of that reasoning in no doubt and not for the first time Samuel felt like taking the boy across his knee for a good spanking. It was something his Deanna had never let him do with Mary even at her worst but he could personally attest to it having worked wonders for him at his most rebellious and it seemed like just the thing that Sam needed right now. The only problem was that the boy was far too good at self-defense for something like that to work now and he doubted that Sam would allow him to do it due to his seniority. The boy most definitely had a problem with authority figures if they didn't either agree with him or fawn all over him. He'd come to really sympathize with John Winchester at times while reading the flashbacks to his grandsons' childhoods in the books. Well, while he wasn't pissed at the man for how John had handled certain situations.  
  
"Oh, no, there are more books now," Sam stated before having to pull the phone away from his ear again. "Damnit, Dean, my ears! ... No, it's not my fault. I didn't even know about it until just now ... I'm not sure, they seem to have everything up until Michael and Lucifer's showdown here but Samuel did say that there are supposed to be like fifteen or twenty more books and Becky said Chuck was actively putting them out still ... Yeah, I went by Chuck's for some info recently and Becky was there."  
  
"Sam," Bobby warned, stepping closer.  
  
Samuel frowned, not quite understanding before he remembered what else they'd learned at the prophet's house and exactly how his youngest grandson had reacted to it.  
  
"Yeah well you were keeping us in the dark, what did you expect me to do?" Sam demanded. "What? No, it's nothing like that!"  
  
The sudden indignation in his grandson's voice made Samuel curious as to what Dean had said to his brother. A glance a Bobby showed that the man had relaxed and was hiding a smile so he assumed that Bobby had figured out what his firstborn grandson had said.  
  
"It's... it's... dude, you're the one who said that you're full frontal in the books, do you really want your grandfather reading about that?"  
  
Samuel's face flamed as he recalled one of those scenes and a muffled laugh beside him made him glare at Gwen.  
  
"Well he's got a point," Gwen whispered.  
  
"As if you didn't stumble into some of those scenes," Samuel replied.  
  
"Who said that I tried to avoid them?"  
  
His glare quickly morphed into a look of shock.  
  
"What?" Gwen shrugged. "Dean's hot."  
  
It was sad that Samuel knew only far too well just how many women shared that opinion. Or that angels did as well, apparently.  _That_  opened the doorway to thoughts that he'd done his best to avoid up until now. Even with that, though, he'd found himself paying  _very_  close attention to any mention of Castiel in the books in some kind of attempt to find out how this supposed romance had started. At first it had seemed ludicrous with the angel treating Dean as little more than a tool to be used in their war with Hell. At that point Castiel had come off as any of the countless arrogant supernatural creatures that he'd dealt with over his decades of hunting, but then even he'd been able to see that things had started to change. He'd have pegged it more as an evolving working relationship and then friendship rather than anything else, but Deanna had accused him of being emotionally challenged more than once so he supposed it was possible.  
  
But still!  
  
Castiel was an  _angel_  and not even human. Sure, he wasn't quite sure what angels were like physically in this 'true form' of theirs, but he doubted it could be even remotely humanoid given the various bits of information that had been revealed about them throughout the various books. Wings and animal faces and light and enough to destroy most humans at a single glance, it all sounded far more alien than he could even wrap his head around, let alone actually  _lying_  with one even if it was in a human vessel. All around it was better if he didn't think about it too much which was what he'd tried to do from the moment that he'd learned about it all. His only consolation was that Bobby was handling it far better than him so he hoped that it would become easier to accept- or at least understand- once he got to know Castiel better.  
  
So far almost all that Samuel knew of the angel in question was what he'd read in the books and what precious little he'd been able to observe and learn firsthand the two times that he'd met Castiel himself.  
  
"You do realize that they want to get the more recent books as well, right?" Sam demanded. "Which, by the way, seems to contain some things you haven't told us about yet if Becky is to be believed."  
  
"Sam!" Bobby exclaimed.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Leave your brother alone about that."  
  
"What? Why? I wanna know how it happened and since when he's gay!"  
  
Samuel wanted to add his own two cents but it was already too late.  
  
"What do you mean you're not gay?" Sam demanded. "You're sleeping with a guy! ... Okay, fine, bi then ... What? What do you mean always? I never saw anything ... So you've been hiding it then? Why? Was it Dad? Did he make you feel like you couldn't be honest ab- Hey! He hung up on me."  
  
"Of course he did, ya idjit," Bobby replied. "Did you really think that he'd just let you interrogate him about his relationship with Castiel and belittle John at the same time?"  
  
"He's finally started to see Dad for what he was."  
  
"There's a big difference between acknowledging that John had his faults as a father and listening to someone who owes John so much belittling everything the man ever did for the two of you. Now, if you want answers about his relationship with Castiel, then I suggest you ask them politely the next time you see either of them."  
  
"Or I could read the books when Samuel gets them," Sam muttered.  
  
Samuel would have replied to that except that he'd just noticed something else. "Where did Christian go?"  
  
"He left right after Sam told Dean about the djinn," Gwen replied. "I take it they handled the problem from what you said, Sam?"  
  
"Yeah, the djinn attacked Dean when he was on his own but he was able to call for Michael who basically smitted them."  
  
"Good, that's three less creatures we need to worry about," Bobby stated.  
  
"Especially ones out for us in particular," Gwen added.  
  
Footsteps in the hall drew Samuel's attention back to the far door just in time to see Christian return with his duffel slung over one shoulder.  
  
"You got us another hunt?" Samuel asked even as his gut told him it wasn't that.  
  
"No, I'm leaving," Christian responded.  
  
"Leaving?" Gwen repeated.  
  
"What? Why?" Sam demanded, stunned.  
  
"Because I've had enough of all of this Dean crap. It's clear that none of you are prepared to do what needs to be done so there's no point in me sticking around here anymore."  
  
"That's not true!" Sam protested. "We've just needed to ensure that Lucifer can't find out everything just by..."  
  
"By slipping you on like a prom dress? Yeah and whose fault is that exactly?"  
  
"Hey, I was trying to help!"  
  
"For all the good that did."  
  
"That's not fair," Gwen protested. "Sam couldn't have known what pulling Michael into the cage would do!"  
  
"Still doesn't change the fact that he's going to be the one the devil will use to betray us all if Lucifer finds him before we manage to get all of the taint off him. And that's assuming that we even can."  
  
"Christian-" Samuel began.  
  
"No, I've had it with you and your precious grandson, it's all that you seem to be able to think about. You're obsessed!"  
  
"Yes and if you'd given the books a fair trial then you'd see why."  
  
"I did give them a fair trial and all they did was prove that I was right."  
  
"Dean and one of his angels took care of those djinn that we couldn't get."  
  
"More likely the angel did that," Christian dismissed. "And the djinn was just one example out of many."  
  
"Like what?" Bobby challenged.  
  
"Like the hunt with the rawhead where Winchester managed to fatally electrocute himself and needed someone else to die in his stead. Or the incident with the shtriga where he would have gotten his charge killed if John hadn't come back in time to stop it. Or that incident in the apple orchard with the pagan scarecrow god. He'd have become a victim himself if it weren't for Sam. I could go on and on!"  
  
"Like you've never made a mistake before," Gwen retorted. "There are also plenty of examples of Dean succeeding in hunts and saving people in there.  
  
The way that Christian looked at Gwen made Samuel's heart clench and he knew that they'd lost him. The knowledge hurt, as it always did when he lost family in one way or another, but he wasn't going to give up Mary's boys in order to keep Christian. There was just no way.  
  
"Thank you for confirming what I already suspected," Christian stated evenly.  
  
"What?" Gwen demanded, confused.  
  
"That when it comes right down to it, you're on their side."  
  
"Christian-"  
  
"Oh, please, don't even try to deny it. You might be mad at Sam, but you're still with Samuel and his precious little Dean."  
  
"And what are you going to do, hunt alone?" Sam asked. "You know how dangerous that is just now."  
  
"It's a lot safer than hunting with you. After all, if you betrayed your own brother for a demon, then what the hell would you do to the rest of us?"  
  
"All right, that's enough!" Bobby thundered. "I've listed to you bitch and moan ever since I hooked up with you and I, for one, have had it. Either stop acting like a spoiled little brat or go and don't let the door hit you on the ass on the way out."  
  
Christian sneered at the older hunter and Samuel wondered if anyone had any respect for their elders anymore or if that had all vanished in the time since his death.  
  
"And what would you know about any of it anyway?" Christian demanded. "You're just the town's local drunk. Besides, it's not like you didn't drop Sam and Dean as soon as it was convenient for you anyway just so you could play house with your dead zombie wife. You're nothing but a hypocrite and a borderline drunk."  
  
"Christian!" Samuel exclaimed.  
  
"Save it. I'm out of here."  
  
With that Christian turned around and stormed out of the building, slamming the door loudly on his way out.


	144. Chapter 143

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Australia and Raphael's human.

**PAST**  
  
  
The moment that they arrived, Dean ducked behind his baby and pulled out the Jewel of Abel. He heard Simiel's scream of rage and frustration as he pulled it on, followed by human screams and bangs and crashes of various sorts. Of those the screams worried him the most and he wished that he knew more about the situation than merely that someone had prayed for help to Raphael and that Simiel was here. Not that it wasn't enough for him to agree to come, but he just liked to know a little more about what it was that they were walking- flying, whatever!- in on ahead of time.  
  
A quick peek over the hood of the Impala showed Simiel to be across the large hall they were in, flinging anything and everything she could at both Michael and the people huddled off to one side, desperately seeking shelter behind some overturned tables and chairs. Raphael was a bit closer to him, tearing away at a host of demons who stupidly thought that they could overwhelm the archangel through sheer numbers alone. Dean couldn't immediately spot his husband though he could feel him close by. The next instant Castiel appeared among the terrified people, grabbed as many of them as he could reach and flew off with them.  
  
The screams of horror and terror that came from the remaining people told Dean where he could be of the most use. Not that he couldn't, and wouldn't, help his two new bond brothers in the process of getting there. Opening the back door of the Impala, he reached into his baby and grabbed the fully loaded water gun that he'd left there knowing that there was absolutely no way that he could get into any kind of legal trouble for possessing or displaying it. With a deep breath to brace himself, he rose up and fired the Jewel of Abel in Simiel's general direction knowing that it mattered less whether or not he hit her than that he distracted her long enough for Michael to get close. Besides, given the angle he was at, his friend was in the way and he didn't have a whole lot of practice at using the Jewel of Abel and didn't want to risk hitting his new brother by accident.  
  
Dean then ran around the Impala in the opposite direction and fired a continuous burst of Holy water at the demons as he made his way to the trapped people. Some of them were still screaming or whimpering and as he slid behind the tables, they turned to him in fear. One brave soul stood up, holding out a knife.  
  
"Whoa, whoa, it's okay," Dean said, raising his hands. "I'm just here to help you, that's all."  
  
"How do we know that you're not just another of those... those black-eyed... things?" the man with the knife demanded.  
  
"Demons, they're demons and I'm not one of them, I'm here with the others who're fighting them. Just look for yourselves."  
  
Some of them took a glance back and saw Raphael and Michael engaged in their battles and one of them sucked in a deep breath.  
  
"They've... they've got wings, just like her!"  
  
 _That_  instantly drew Dean's attention and he realized that it had to be her. She had to be the one that Raphael had heard so he focused his attention on her.  
  
"That's because they're angels. You prayed to Raphael for help and he heard you so here we are. Now please just let us help you."  
  
"Raphael," she whispered, eyes snapping back to him. "How do you know about that? I- Raphael?"  
  
Even before her eyes had shifted to a spot over his shoulder and she'd spoken, Dean had sensed the arrival of his lo- husband. It freaked him out on some level how easily he was already accepting and incorporating what was essentially a new 'sense' but right now it was particularly useful as he knew he no longer had to watch his back until Castiel flew off again.  
  
"No, I am Castiel, one of Raphael's younger brothers," Castiel replied. "Come with me."  
  
"You've been kidnapping people, why should we trust you?" the man with the knife demanded, shifting his grip on the blade.  
  
"I have been taking them to safety and your small weapon will not hurt me."  
  
"I'll come," the girl said, stepping forwards.  
  
"Kelly," another man began.  
  
"It's okay, Reverend, he really is an angel, I can see his wings."  
  
"You said that the other one had wings as well," knife man stated.  
  
"Yes, but they know of my prayers and are fighting her and the demons."  
  
Between that and another incoming furniture missile, most people seemed convinced and a lot of them now crowded around Castiel and Dean was worried for a moment that his husband wouldn't be able to cope but it was a groundless fear and they vanished in a flutter of wings.  
  
"You're not an angel," the reverend stated, looking at him.  
  
Dean laughed. "Not even close."  
  
"So why are you here with them?"  
  
"Because I'm a hunter and I hunt demons and other supernatural creatures for a living," Dean replied.  
  
Part of him protested the idea of telling any civilian so much of the truth but Dean had long since accepted that with this renewed Apocalypse it would be extremely hard to keep things quiet. Besides, as a reverend, this man was someone other victims of the supernatural would turn to so it wasn't a bad thing for him to know more about what was really out there...  
  
"There are more things out there?" the reverend asked, aghast.  
  
"Yep. Vampires, werewolves, ghosts, ghouls, poltergeists, you name it, it's probably out there somewhere."  
  
"Dean!"  
  
Raphael's cry had Dean turning around and he caught sight of the woman creeping towards them. Given the archangel's warning he figured it probably wasn't a human anymore so he gave it a face full of Holy water. The resulting shriek confirmed his suspicions and he continued to spray it until it gave up and fled.  
  
"Holy Mother of God," the reverend was muttering when Dean dragged the female host behind their makeshift cover. "That's Wendy McIntyre!"  
  
"Demons can take almost anyone unless they're protected," Dean explained. "Check her for a pulse, would you?"  
  
The order clearly caught the reverend off-guard but the man did as requested and Dean felt something ease within himself when the reverend muttered a quiet thanks to God. He bit his own tongue and turned his attention towards Michael to see how his friend was doing. He was somewhat surprised that Simiel hadn't fled yet but she seemed pissed and rather than facing her elder brother head-on, she was trying to fight him from afar, flinging things at him with her Grace and only allowing the occasional clashing of their swords when they got close enough to do so.  
  
The man with the knife had calmed enough by the time Castiel had returned for his angel to fly the rest of them out of there. The only reason that Dean allowed himself to be taken along was because he knew that Raphael would be able to smite all of the demons at once if there were no humans left around and he wasn't sure if he could now handle seeing all angels' true forms or just that of his husband and he'd really hate to find out it was just Castiel's the hard way.  
  
The moment that they landed, his husband was kneeling beside Wendy McIntyre, examining her.  
  
"Will she be okay?" Dean asked.  
  
"Yes, there appears to be no physical damage and I do not believe that she was possessed for very long," Castiel replied.  
  
"Then why hasn't she woken up yet?" the reverend inquired.  
  
"She appears to have withdrawn deep into her mind in an effort to protect herself. Give her a little time to come back."  
  
"I say we take care of her now!"  
  
The statement was made by the man with the knife, which he was brandishing about wildly again and Dean knew that if he didn't take it away from him soon, someone would get hurt.  
  
"Ryan, that is enough," the reverend stated. "You heard the man, almost anyone can be taken."  
  
"Yeah and what would he know about it? He isn't an angel or even a holy man. He's-"  
  
"Chosen," Castiel declared with a finality to his voice that Dean didn't often hear. "Dean Winchester is the Righteous Man and he is correct, it was not Wendy McIntyre's fault that she was possessed."  
  
" _Cas!_ " Dean complained wordlessly. " _Will you cut it out with the Righteous Man crap all the time?_ "  
  
" _It is true._ "  
  
" _Yeah, but they don't all need to know that._ "  
  
" _They do not treat you with the proper respect otherwise._ "  
  
Okay, that there threw Dean for a loop. He'd never realized that his husband paid attention to things like that though he really should have he now realized. Of course Castiel would notice how others saw him and what they thought of him and, his angel being who he was, Castiel felt the need for everyone to see him as his husband did. It was kinda sweet, not that he cared about things like that.  
  
Not at all.  
  
Ah shit.  
  
He just wouldn't tell anyone.  
  
" _Your secret is safe with me, Beloved,_ " Castiel replied, clearly amused.  
  
" _Bite me, Cas._ "  
  
" _Mm, maybe later._ "  
  
Damnit, why had he taught his angel about the dubious pleasures of being a tease or extended foreplay?  
  
"But you said that there was something that we could do to protect ourselves?" the reverend asked, looking at him.  
  
"Yeah, there are hex bags you can make and wear or, if you're a little more serious about it, then there are tattoos like this which you can get," Dean replied, pulling his shirt collar down.  
  
The expression on the reverend's face was well worth the possibility of ruining his shirt for Dean. The man looked so torn, clearly not at all a fan of tattoos, but just as clearly wanting the additional protection they afforded.  
  
"They work better?"  
  
"Well you can't lose them and they can't be torn off of you. The only thing that can break them is for the skin to be broken."  
  
"I would advise on getting the tattoo," Castiel stated.  
  
Dean tried not to laugh at that, knowing that almost guaranteed that the reverend would get one. After all, if  _an angel_  told him to get it, then how was a holy man to refuse?  
  
Kelly's sudden sharp indrawn breath made Dean glance behind him to see that both Michael and Raphael had arrived. From the grim look on his older friend's face he knew that Simiel had gotten away again, not that he was all that surprised. There was no way that she'd have stuck around for as long as she had if she hadn't had an escape route in mind.  
  
"Hey, Raph," Dean called out without thinking, but then the sounds of shock behind him reminded him of his audience. "-ael. There's someone who'd like to meet you over here."  
  
"No!" Kelly squeaked, literally squeaked and Dean glanced back at her in surprise. "No, no! That's perfectly okay. I don't need to meet him. I mean I'm sure that he's got far more important things to do then meet little old me!"  
  
Dean frowned, sure he was detecting fear in her voice and posture and not all sure why. Surely if she'd taken the time to pray to Raphael then that meant that the archangel meant something to her.  
  
"Yes, Dean?" Raphael asked, suddenly right behind him.  
  
All of a sudden there was a hushed and reverent silence all around them and it angered Dean a little that they reacted like that to Raphael but not to Castiel.  
  
" _And you can't understand that I want them to treat you with the respect you deserve. How is this any different?_ " Castiel inquired softly into his mind.  
  
Dean stuck out his mental tongue, sure that he could transmit the sentiment if he tried. The amused affection he got back proved that he was right even if it hadn't achieved the desired results.  
  
"Just in case you wanted to put a face with her voice, this is Kelly, the one who's been praying to you," Dean said.  
  
"Kelly, it is nice to finally meet you," Raphael stated, though he didn't move from where he stood.  
  
The line was so unlike what he'd expected the archangel to say that it took Dean a moment to recognize it from a movie his friend had once caught him watching once and questioned him about.  
  
"Uh, hi," Kelly squeaked once more. "Look, I'm really, really,  _really_  sorry about some of the stuff that I said. I didn't think it was getting through to anyone, honest!"  
  
"What did you say?" Castiel inquired.  
  
"Uh."  
  
"She sounded remarkably like Dean at times," Raphael explained, completely blind to Kelly's discomfort.  
  
"Ah, I see," Castiel replied. "Sarcasm, caustic and disbelieving."  
  
"Yes, precisely," Raphael confirmed.  
  
"Hey!" Dean protested.  
  
"Kelly!" the reverend admonished.  
  
"I didn't know!" Kelly defended. "And how was I too? It's not like we had any proof that they could hear us or even that they were there! I mean what were we supposed to do, take it all on blind faith and attribute all of the good to God and all of the bad to ourselves? That's just a load of bull!"  
  
"I can see how she would remind you of Dean," Michael stated, adding his two cents.  
  
Dean just muttered darkly under his breath before focusing on Kelly who was starting to look a little unsure and frightened again. "Don't let the fact that they're angels intimidate you, Kelly, even angels need to be reminded of what's right and what's wrong sometimes. Besides, I doubt if Raphael got even half of what you said if you used sarcasm and wit."  
  
By now Dean was expecting the swat that earned him from one of Raphael's wings and he just watched how Kelly observed it with wide eyes even as she slowly started to relax.  
  
"I'm still sorry that I said some of that, I shouldn't have," Kelly stated sincerely.  
  
"You are forgiven," Raphael replied. "And not all that you said was wrong. You should know that your Bible is a human creation and therefore not an accurate or faithful representation of Father's Will and Word. Therefore it is normal for you to find fault with some of its passages."  
  
And there went half of the reverend's world Dean saw. He'd have to make sure that Castiel spoke to the man before they left so that the poor guy knew where things stood.  
  
"No, Kelly, you're doing it all wrong," Dean said, trying to veer the conversation away from its current topic. "That's not the right way to manage your archangel. You're supposed to-"  
  
Pretty much as expected, he was caught up in a set of wings and swept around to face his husband.  
  
"Manage?" Castiel inquired darkly with a single raised eyebrow.  
  
"Yeah, you know I've got your wrapped around my little finger," Dean replied easily, wriggling one of his pinkies back and forth.  
  
He felt a light nudge at the back of his mind, just like what it felt like when Michael was with him and his friend dug around for an explanation or information and then there was fake annoyance coming down the bond along with his husband's narrowed eyes.  
  
"You do not," Castiel disagreed.  
  
"Yeah, I totally do." Dean twisted around to tell Kelly exactly what he wanted her to do when fingers dug into his side with expert precision and he ended up laughing instead. "Cas!" Dean protested, attempting to squirm away.  
  
An inescapable arm wrapped around his waist and his husband turned to look at their astounded audience. "Forgive me, but this one requires a lesson in proper manners."  
  
"A lesso-" Dean began, indignant, but was cut off when his angel took flight.  
  
When they landed, Dean was shoved up against a wall and there were hands at his belt before he could even sort everything out. "Cas!" he protested again as his jeans and boxers were shoved down and he looked about frantically.  
  
"There is no one here, I checked."  
  
"You checked? Did you seriously whisk me away for a quickie in some dark alley?"  
  
"No, I whisked you away so that Michael and Raphael can figure out what happened in peace. The sex is merely to make you look pliant and suitably cowed when we go back."  
  
"Hey!" Dean protested but the rest of his words turned into a strangled moan as his husband dropped to his knees and swallowed him down completely in one smooth move.  
  
"Yes?" Castiel questioned, pulling back. "Is something wrong?"  
  
Unable to form any coherent words after being deep throated so expertly, Dean made good use of their new bond to directly inform his husband of  _exactly_  how he felt. What he got back was amusement, self-satisfaction and, to his immense relief, no small amount of lust and arousal.  
  
"Cas!" Dean finally managed. "Come on, you can't leave me like this!"  
  
"Perhaps," Castiel replied, blowing lightly on his cock, making Dean mewl. "But I thought you were an expert at managing archangels."  
  
Dean glared down at his new bond mate husband. "I'll never groom your wings again if you don't finish what you started right now."  
  
Castiel, the bastard, merely laughed at him before leaning forward to lick a stripe up his cock. "Mm, I'm sure I could convince you otherwise."  
  
"Caaaas!" Dean whined, throwing his head back.  
  
The pain that caused, skull against brick, gave him a little more control but that fled when Castiel chose that exact moment to deep throat him once more. It had become instinct by now to dig one hand into his angel's nearest wing as well as his hair whenever Castiel went down on him. Not only was it something that he knew his husband loved, but it also tended to minimize any teasing as it worked Castiel up as much as it did him. Though that might no longer be necessary with the bond. It was something he'd need to test at some point.  
  
Then Castiel swallowed around the head of his cock and all coherent thought fled. With no restraining hands on his hips, Dean began thrusting down Castiel's throat, his rhythm faltering frequently whenever his husband swallowed and soon he'd lost any and all coordination. It was all just pleasure, heat, wetness and suction. Wonderful, wonderful suction accompanied by his husband's throat muscles constricting around his cock and that was it, he was gone.  
  
Dean would have slid down the wall, boneless, if it wasn't for Castiel's wings holding him upright against it as his angel cleaned him off, stopping just before he became too sensitive. Then Castiel was on his feet again and both of his hands shifted to his new bond mate husband's wings.  
  
"Dean," Castiel breathed, nuzzling the side of his face.  
  
"This is where teasing someone with a blowjob gets you into trouble," Dean replied languidly. "See, I'm all satisfied now."  
  
Castiel growled in his ear and the next thing Dean knew their positions were reversed and there was pressure on his shoulders, gently but firmly forcing his down. He laughed as he went, obligingly opening his angel's pants and pulling him free. Then, however, he just blew teasingly on Castiel's cock, more than ready to return the favor.  
  
There was a shift of something along their bond and then Dean gasped as a crushing, desperate  _need_  washed over him.  
  
Oh that just wasn't fair! Dean was physically sated and he could  _feel_  that he was, but now he was also caught in that desperate high and the need at the peak of sexual arousal at the same time.  
  
"Cheater," Dean muttered before he swallowed Castiel down.


	145. Chapter 144

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gateways, Virtues and vessels (oh my!).

**PAST**  
  
  
"Wait a minute, you're saying that Kelly Goodwin, the girl whose prayers Raph couldn't ignore, had the key to the Devil's Pool gateway to Hell as a family heirloom?" Dean demanded incredulously.  
  
"Yes, that is correct," Michael confirmed.  
  
"And Simiel knew this?"  
  
"No, it would appear that she or one of the demons with her had tracked it down to that area over two centuries ago and assumed that it had been hidden away by people who knew what it was that they possessed."  
  
"So she what? Figured that if she started hurting and threatening enough people that those in the know would simply hand it over?"  
  
"It would appear so."  
  
"You must recall that Simiel does not have a very good understanding of humans," Castiel stated.  
  
"I don't know, a lot of people would give something like that up for a loved one," Dean replied.  
  
"But surely they'd know it would only result in an even greater threat to that loved one along with everyone else."  
  
"Only if they fully understood or believed what it was that they had. After a few generations that information or the importance of it could be lost or take on the appearance of being nothing but a family legend no one actually believes anymore. Put that up against an immediate threat to someone they love and well, you know."  
  
"It is strange to think of information being lost like that," Raphael commented.  
  
Dean shrugged. "Humans grow old, forget things and die or accidents happen and stuff that should have been passed on isn't."  
  
The arm around his waist tightened and Dean was pulled back more firmly against his husband's chest. Part of him still protested the position but Castiel's wings made the opposite position impossible, plus it allowed his angel to rest his chin on his shoulder.  
  
"You won't," Michael stated.  
  
"I won't what?" Dean questioned.  
  
"Grow old."  
  
"What? Why?"  
  
"Castiel will not allow it," Raphael replied, amused.  
  
Dean twisted around to face his husband. "Cas?"  
  
"Aging seems painful and damaging. Plus as my vessel, Jimmy's body will not age and I have observed human disapproval of large age differences between mates."  
  
"There is that," Dean agreed, a little stunned.  
  
He'd no longer age? If Dean were honest, he'd never really thought of growing old as he'd always been convinced that he never would, instead getting killed on a hunt somewhere before he could. Having seen how age had slowed both his father and Bobby down hadn't been pleasant and taken together with his own experience not all that long ago with Patrick the he-witch, he was suddenly very relieved that he'd never have to worry about it ever again.  
  
"Unless, of course, you wish to age?" Castiel inquired.  
  
"No! No ageing is a good thing," Dean hastened to reply.  
  
Castiel's expression grew sly. "Good. I would dislike to see you become less flexible."  
  
"Hey! No sex talk in front of your brothers!"  
  
"That was sex talk?" Raphael asked, genuinely confused.  
  
Dean blinked, having temporarily forgotten the naivety of angels in all things sexual, or at least on a human level. He could see why true form angel sex wouldn't rely on flexibility of any sort. And he really needed to think of something else now, though Castiel's amusement told him his angel had already noticed the way the direction of his thoughts were affecting him physically. He gave his bond mate a mental slap on the wrist. They'd already had their quickie today. And he seriously couldn't believe that  _he_  was the one curtailing any further sexual activities just now. When had he become the semi-responsible one when it came to anything relating to sex?  
  
"Honestly, I'm grateful to never have to have another heart attack again," Dean admitted.  
  
It was a very revealing statement for him as Dean realized what that meant about his expectations for the future. He'd clearly come to terms with the fact that death was only a physical end and that after that he'd continue on as a soul which could recreate the illusion of physicality in both Heaven and Hell. Plus, he realized with a start, he'd come to assume that it would be Heaven instead of Hell as he'd always used to assume. Huh, apparently repeating something often enough did get it through his thick skull. Castiel and Michael would be proud and happy.  
  
Now if only he could come to see Heaven as somewhere desirable to be instead of just the better alternative to Hell. Dean knew his first reaction was based on a bad prior experience and that his husband had done his best to improve things so he wanted to be able to give it another chance. If for nothing else than because he believed in Castiel.  
  
Worry and dismay washed over him and it took Dean a moment to realize the emotions came from his angel.  
  
"Heart attack?" Castiel repeated, reaching up to touch his chest.  
  
"Hey, it's okay," Dean said, catching his husband's hand. "Mike already took care of it and you've been making me eat better."  
  
Instead Castiel pulled him close, both physically and spiritually, and Dean allowed it, scowling at the amusement on both Michael and Raphael's faces.  
  
"What are the odds that Lucifer will try and blow open the Devil's Pool gateway like he did the Devil's Island one?" Dean asked.  
  
"I believe it to be unlikely," Michael replied. "It is the one advantage of Simiel having found a way to reverse the Rite of Contressa. It will leave Lucifer weak for a short while so he won't do anything too strenuous beforehand in an attempt to build up his power ahead of time."  
  
"Too bad we can't take advantage of that, the weakness afterwards I mean."  
  
"Indeed, it is unfortunate," Raphael agreed. "And I believe it would be a good idea to examine our options now."  
  
"What options? As far as I can see we can't do anything but try and fight or prevent any of Lucy's attacks and look for a way to stop him," Dean stated, frustrated.  
  
"We need to consider the possibility of Lucifer gaining a vessel."  
  
"Sam won't say yes again!"  
  
"I did not say that he would."  
  
"Raphael is right, Dean," Castiel said. "Even if Sam and the rest of your immediate family refuse to give in, it is possible that Lucifer will find another, far more distant member of the Campbell family to use as a temporary vessel."  
  
Dean scowled, not liking the thought at all. "Well at least then he'll have to be really careful how he uses his powers. But what else do you want us to do? If you've got any ideas then I'm all ears."  
  
"Raphael did not mean it in a negative way, Little One," Michael soothed. "We are simply unused to not knowing what to do next, especially when a situation has progressed as far as this one has."  
  
The words took the wind right out of his sails and Dean deflated into his husband's touch as Castiel reached up to massage the now tense muscles of his back. "Sorry, this is getting to me too. We've been at this so long and while we scored some victories they've all just been about delaying things instead of actually stopping them. Hell, beyond Simiel and Lucifer's obvious desire to open the gateways, we don't actually know what they're even planning to do once Lucy gets a vessel. I mean I doubt he'll come right after you Mike, right?"  
  
"Not now that he knows that you've said yes to me," Michael confirmed. "He'll be far more careful now, especially once he realizes that he's lost his own true vessel."  
  
"That discovery is very likely to alter what he decides to do," Raphael added. "Whereas before he would probably still have wished to face Michael on even ground, the fact that he will be in an inferior vessel and Michael won't be will probably make him resort to far more underhanded tactics. Especially now that he's been locked into his cage for a second time after having gotten out."  
  
"It will have tempered his arrogance," Castiel agreed.  
  
"So we've just turned him into a more dangerous opponent," Dean concluded. "Great. I need a drink, anyone else want one?"  
  
His words caused a reaction in his angel that wasn't entirely pleasant, but Dean was happy to note that while Castiel clearly recalled his earlier trouble with alcohol, his husband trusted him not to go too far now. That alone would be enough to never make him drink like he had before, even if the desire to do so had still been present. The fact that it wasn't only made things easier and he hadn't had anything other than beer in months. These days whiskey was actually associated more with negativity and the potential to cause disappointment than anything else.  
  
Not unexpectedly, no one seemed inclined to join him so Dean only grabbed the one beer from the fridge. "So does anyone actually have anything better to suggest than merely looking at more books or is this just a general bitch session to work off pent-up frustration?"  
  
"I believe the demons were more effective for that," Raphael stated wryly and Dean snorted.  
  
"Now that I can well imagine."  
  
"We can go find some or some other evil creature if you wish for some stress relief yourself," Castiel offered.  
  
"Thanks but I think it would be better if I actually did some more research, much as I'd love to avoid it. I should probably also contact Crowley and see if he's got anything for us."  
  
"I dislike working with a demon," Michael growled.  
  
"You and me both, Mike, but we can't exactly afford to be picky right now. Not when he can provide us with information we just couldn't get ourselves."  
  
"You won't go to see him without letting us know, right?" Castiel asked.  
  
"He can hardly stand to touch me anymore these days, remember? And that was before our bonding," Dean replied. "But, yeah, I'll let someone know."  
  
The ringing of his phone interrupted them and Dean fished it out of his pocket, wondering who it could be. He'd managed to slip Kelly his number when his archangels weren't looking, but he doubted that she'd be calling so soon already.  
  
The name that was flashing across the screen made Dean frown. It was Bobby calling him and after their meeting earlier in the day he knew his old friend was not calling for any of the reasons that Bobby had before and he wasn't sure if he wanted to deal with this now. Unsure, he looked up at his husband.  
  
"Xarael has just requested my presence, but I can drop you off at Bobby's current location if you wish," Castiel offered.  
  
The phone rang again before Dean decided to bite the bullet and answered it.  
  
"What do you want, Bobby?"  
  


* * *

  
  
The sheer number of ripples and disturbances in the energy of life and the movement of the heavens that the Virtues were reporting lately was nearly enough to give Castiel a headache even as an angel. There were simply more critical decisions being made than almost ever before. Apparently things had not been this bad since the Rebellion and, just like then, they were rapidly approaching a nexus beyond which the Virtues couldn't see, leaving them all completely blind as to what was to come. All that was visible now were the multitude of different paths leading into the nexus, all of which was still far too much in flux to gain anything concrete from.  
  
Strangely, while Dean was clearly still a central figure, his strand was currently calm and stable. Oh it was still stronger and pulsing in a way no one else's ever had, but ever since their bonding it had been pulsing slow and steady. Though mystified, Castiel thought it might be for the best as their bonding had caused an uproar within the energy of life, dramatically shifting things in some indefinable way that none of the Virtues could understand just yet, but now it was far quieter.  
  
Castiel could only assume that was because at present his bond mate was focused upon his research and not making any big decisions. How long that would last was anyone's guess, but the Virtues could say that they lost track of Dean's thread long before it reached the nexus, where it passed through an irregularity they occasionally ran across and which they couldn't penetrate despite all of their best efforts. The only reason he didn't panic was the fact that they assured him that while usually rare, Dean's thread had passed through this more than once before, as had his own.  
  
What was causing the Virtues far more difficulties were the rest of Dean's family and Bobby Singer. They were apparently creating a whole host of ripples and waves in the energy of life at present, all of which had the potential for far more disruptive decisions and consequences in the near future and Castiel didn't need the Virtues to know why. Sam's status as Lucifer's vessel would have been enough for him to be a central figure for the Virtues even if his newest bond brother hadn't said yes to Lucifer and was thus an open vessel if found.  
  
He dealt with all of the issues the Virtues raised, wishing not for the first time that he could pass this task on to someone else. Castiel understood the importance of it, but now that he was assured of Michael and Raphael's sincerity, he was tempted to let them take control of Heaven. This had never been his intended job and even with his status promotion he sometimes felt ill-suited for the position. Michael, and even Raphael, seemed far more natural with all of it and he had already taken advantage of that and assigned them some of his old tasks.  
  
"I sometimes wonder if these meetings are even helpful anymore," Xarael said as they left the room.  
  
"It is not something we can afford to ignore," Castiel replied.  
  
"Yes, but with the nexus they can't see past does it matter what path we take if they all lead there anyway?"  
  
"It does if one path costs us countless human or angelic lives and another doesn't."  
  
"Do you think that there is a future beyond the nexus, Brother?"  
  
That stopped Castiel dead in his tracks and he turned to face his sister. "Of course I do. There was one beyond the last nexus."  
  
"Yet why is it there at all?"  
  
"Perhaps the possible futures are simply too divergent for all of them to be visible or perhaps it is because what is to come is far too important for us to disregard that point in time itself and focus on what comes beyond it."  
  
"It is strange to not know what comes next."  
  
"It is how humans always live."  
  
That seemed to give Xarael pause and Castiel watched her curiously.  
  
"Do you think that might be why Father does it, Castiel? To make us experience it as humans would?"  
  
It was an idea that Castiel had never considered before but which now caused him to wonder. It  _would_  be something that would force them to have to deal with the situation in a far more human fashion and Father had always wanted them to admire and love humanity more. Could it be that He thought experiencing things in a more human fashion would teach them to do so? It was a possibility but the fact that humanity was also on the brink of destruction if Lucifer should have his way still bothered him. Was Father really willing to risk everything on that kind of lesson?  
  
"I don't know," Castiel finally replied before flying off.  
  
When he landed in the apartment, he was surprised to find his bond mate asleep on top of his research. The tomes that Dean was reading really had to be boring for his hunter to be asleep at this time as it was only just early evening. Knowing that the angle would bother Dean's neck later, he stepped forwards to lay a hand on his human's back. He frowned at the tension he felt there and let himself sink into Dean's dream. The moment he recognized the battle going on around him, he pulled out and woke his bond mate.  
  
Dean had a brief moment of disorientation, but Castiel had been expecting it, knowing it always happened whenever his bond mate relived one of Michael's memories of the Rebellion. He still disliked that this transference had taken place and wished that he knew how it had happened as neither Michael or Dean seemed to know.  
  
"Cas?" Dean blinked up at him. "What happened?"  
  
"You fell asleep and were dreaming of Lucifer's fall."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Come, you need a break."  
  
"Can't, we need to find a way to deal with Lucifer before he breaks the Rite of Contressa."  
  
"It will do us no good if you are too tired or bored to take in what you're reading."  
  
The disgruntled sound Dean made was one Castiel had the misfortune of understanding from his own time of being nearly fallen. Being prevented from doing what you wished due to a limitation you couldn't help was frustrating at best. Luckily he had found that his bond mate sometimes only needed a little break in order to be able to focus properly once more. Given Dean's current mood he doubted a true break would be welcomed, so that left something helpful but different.  
  
Xarael's words of humans not knowing what was to come had reminded Castiel of something he'd intended to do but had put off for later. It was something he wasn't sure how to handle and knew he'd need his bond mate's help with. He'd been putting it off and knew that wasn't fair to either Amelia or Claire Novak and his own cowardice was starting to bother him as he normally never shied away from a confrontation. It was just that he couldn't help but be able to understand what he was about to do to them and Amelia in particular, not with Dean being a vessel himself.  
  
"So what do you suggest then?" Dean questioned.  
  
"I... There is something which I have been meaning to do for a while now, but require your assistance with," Castiel replied.  
  
"Yeah? What is it?"  
  
"I wish to inform Amelia and Claire Novak of what happened to Jimmy."  
  
Dean flinched at his words and for a moment Castiel was worried that he had said something wrong, but then his bond mate seemed to recover and he could only detect surprise and some dread through their bond.  
  
"You sure you wanna do that?" Dean asked.  
  
"Yes. They deserve to know what happened to him and the sacrifice he made for all of humanity."  
  
"Okay, so long as you're aware that this isn't going to be pretty."  
  
"Of that I'm aware."  
  
"You know where they are now?"  
  
"They live in southern Oregon, close to where Amelia grew up as a child."  
  
Dean took a deep breath and glanced down at himself before stepping close. "Alright, let's do this then before we chicken out."  
  
"You don't have to come with me if you don't want to."  
  
"And let you face this on your own? No way. Besides, you're right, they deserve this. It's the least that we can do for Jimmy, so let's do it now before something else comes up."  
  
Castiel felt another deep swell of affection and love for his bond mate. He'd never thought for a moment that Dean would leave him to do this alone, but he'd felt it important to offer the opportunity to his hunter nonetheless. And Dean was right about Jimmy as well. His former vessel deserved this from them and as soon as he was done with this, he would go visit Jimmy and let him know how his family was doing and what his sacrifice had accomplished.


	146. Chapter 145

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel and Dean go to talk with Amelia and Claire Novak.

**PAST**  
  
  
"This is not a nice neighborhood," Castiel observed as he watched two men with tainted souls enter a house across the street.  
  
"It's not all that bad," Dean replied, toying with his cell phone.  
  
His bond mate had said that it was so that Dean didn't appear to just be talking to thin air, but Castiel had yet to observe anyone paying his hunter enough attention to notice. At his bond mate's request, he had cloaked himself from human eyes as Dean thought it would be better if Amelia didn't see him right away upon returning home. He'd been pleasantly surprised to learn that his bond mate could still see him even after he'd cloaked himself. It meant that he could now wrap half his wings around Dean as they sat on the top step and waited for Amelia and Claire in the rapidly fading light.  
  
"It is not the same as their old neighborhood," Castiel stated.  
  
"Yeah, well, I bet Jimmy was the main breadwinner, so that's not too surprising," Dean replied.  
  
"Jimmy was a sales provider for AM radio, he did not 'win' bread."  
  
His bond mate laughed. "It's a figure of speech, Cas. It means that he was the one earning the most money, or all of it if Amelia didn't work. Either way it meant that Amelia and Claire were left with less financially after he said yes to you."  
  
"Oh."  
  
Castiel didn't like this new information at all. It was something that he'd never even considered before and now he felt even worse about the disruption he'd caused the Novak family. Was this something which he should have known about and taken care of as part of his promise to look after Jimmy's family? He wasn't sure how if it was as he had no means of earning money and the only other way that he'd seen people obtain it was through fraudulent means as Dean and Sam had done for most of their life. It had been necessary then though he had been incredibly grateful when the Vatican had provided his mate with an alternative means of income.  
  
"Hey," Dean said, bumping their shoulders together and looking at him with a frown. "Look, Cas, while I'm really happy that you're giving all of this some serious thought, you have to remember that, in the end, Jimmy made his own choice. He agreed to this."  
  
"He didn't know what he was signing up for," Castiel replied bitterly.  
  
"Oh? So you're saying that you lied to him?"  
  
"Not intentionally."  
  
Dean snorted. "Not at all more like."  
  
"How would you know? You weren't there, Dean."  
  
"No, but I know you, Cas. Both now and what you were like back then."  
  
"I told him that it was what Heaven needed and that he'd be serving Father's Will."  
  
"Yeah, which is exactly what you've done."  
  
"I got Jimmy killed standing up to an archangel."  
  
"An archangel who was perverting prophecy for his own ends, Cas. You got resurrected, remember? That clearly means that your Old Man agreed with what you were doing regardless of what else He's done. Or not done as the case may be. Point is that you were the only one doing what was right and therefore everything you told Jimmy and promised him, about why you needed him and what you'd do was all truthful."  
  
"He would not have known that at the time of his death."  
  
"No, perhaps not. Maybe he did curse you then, but Cas, I'm sure that he's learned the truth since then if you've made all of the changes to Heaven that you say you have. He said yes because he believed in God and Heaven and you of all angels validated that faith by doing what you did and you couldn't have done any of it without him. Or well, you could have, but he'd have done anything to keep Claire from having to do it."  
  
Those last words struck Castiel like he supposed bullets did a human's flesh. Though he knew that his bond mate hadn't intended them to wound, that was exactly what they did as he could recall the sheer desperation and terror in Jimmy's eyes and soul only all too well as his first vessel begged him to leave his daughter and take him once more. It was a set of emotions that he'd utterly failed to comprehend at the time, but not anymore. He didn't think that he'd ever be able to forget his own experience being able to do nothing but stand back and allow Dean to give himself over to Michael that first time.  
  
"Yes, as we got ample proof when I was required to briefly take Claire," Castiel finally replied.  
  
"Damnit, Cas! What I'm trying to say is that Jimmy chose this after you told him what you needed of him. You didn't force him, didn't lie to him and damn well didn't let him down even if things didn't go quite the way that either of you thought that they would."  
  
"How can you say that I didn't let him down? Jimmy is dead, his wife and daughter alone, never to see him again in this life."  
  
"Because I can guarantee that Jimmy would infinitely prefer this to the alternative. Just imagine if both he and Claire had said no, if you'd not been able to find yourself a vessel. What would have happened then? It would have been Uriel who'd have come to me, wouldn't it?"  
  
"That is most likely what would have occurred."  
  
"Great, now just think about how well  _that_  would have gone down."  
  
Castiel grimaced at the mere thought. Dean and Uriel had already been extremely volatile with each other and they'd hardly interacted as it was. He could only imagine what it would have been like if they'd been required to work together more closely. Parts of it he could picture clearly; his bond mate digging in his heels and refusing to budge, Uriel's Grace swelling with cold Heavenly fury, the resulting clash of personalities, both too stubborn to give an inch and each just goading on the other to remain unflinchingly firm in their resolve. Suffice it to say that things would not have ended well. He feared to even think about what his brother would have done in his anger to try and 'convince' the mud monkey to cooperate. His wings tightened involuntarily around Dean at the mere thought.  
  
"Things would surely have ended a hell of a lot worse than they have if you hadn't been there, Cas," Dean stated confidently. "In saying yes to you, Jimmy helped allow everything that happened to, well, happen."  
  
"That... that does not make me feel any better," Castiel admitted after a pause.  
  
Dean laughed without any real humor. "Yeah, tell me about it. It's still the truth, though, and you need to try and stop beating yourself up over it."  
  
The sheer irony of hearing his bond mate saying those words to him startled a laugh out of Castiel before he gave Dean a significant look, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm trying okay?" Dean shot back.  
  
"I know, I have seen it."  
  
And it was true. Castiel had seen his hunter slowly trying to change how he viewed himself. He didn't think that Dean would ever be able to see truly how special he was, but he'd quite happily settle for his bond mate not automatically putting himself down or believing that he deserved every bad thing that happened to him. He could live with that, secure in the knowledge that there would be those around who'd gladly indulge and spoil Dean whenever his human didn't do it for himself. As it was, he knew from Michael that Raphael was trying to decide if he owed Dean a late birthday present for having not given one at the time. He figured that by the time his brother worked it out, it would probably be close enough to Christmas for his bond mate to think it was an early Christmas gift. Still, he would like to see what Raphael considered a fitting gift for his new bond brother.  
  
That thought made Castiel smile as he wondered what he himself would have chosen once. He had no doubt whatever he'd have selected would have been wildly inappropriate and a part of him was almost glad that he hadn't figured out that particular human custom back then. His eyes dropped to Dean's wrist and the bracelet his bond mate only ever removed if a hunt promised to be messy in a way that could damage it and he felt some pride at his choice. Though he had overheard a man trying to insult his hunter by drawing attention to the, apparently, feminine jewellery, he knew for certain that Dean treasured the gift greatly.  
  
"Showtime," Dean muttered, snapping his cell phone shut and rising to his feet.  
  
All it took was a glance up for Castiel to see that his bond mate was right. A car was pulling up into the drive with Amelia at the wheel and Claire sitting beside her. From the conflicted expression on Amelia's face, Castiel knew that she'd already caught sight of Dean and he was suddenly really glad that his hunter had told him to cloak himself. It gave him the opportunity now to concentrate on both Amelia and Claire without needing to worry about what emotions his own face might be expressing. It also allowed him some time to regroup himself, though he sincerely doubted that it would be nearly enough. He didn't think that all of the time in the universe would be enough to prepare him for this and he knew now why he'd been able to put this off for so long. Indeed, if it hadn't been so clear that his bond mate needed a break, then he was sure that he'd have put it off even now. But the fact was that Dean had needed a distraction and as it had already been a week since the confrontation in the desert with Sam, Bobby and the Campbells, his hunter was slowly working himself up about needing to find  _something_  with all of their research.  
  
"Dean Winchester," Amelia said as she got out of the car, voice strangely flat.  
  
"Amelia, Claire," Dean greeted. "Can I please speak with you?"  
  
For a moment Castiel thought that Amelia would refuse Dean's request, would order them to go and never come back, but then she paused and looked around before sharing a look with Claire. "Sure, come on inside."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
Okay, this wasn't starting out too badly, Castiel mused. Dean had said that getting in the door might be one of the hardest things to accomplish as there'd been a good chance that Amelia would have been far too furious to speak to them. Well, his bond mate hadn't used the word furious, but he'd known what Dean had meant nonetheless. It bemused him that his hunter seemed to want to shield him from the repercussions of his own actions here. He would have thought that after everything which had happened before with Dean, Michael and Zachariah, that his bond mate would be far less sympathetic to his plight in this case.  
  
A feeling of comfort, warmth and a promise of companionship washed over Castiel and he turned to smile at Dean, sending back a wave of gratitude before he braced himself and followed his bond mate inside. Dean closed the door behind him so he wouldn't have to fly inside, but the action wasn't missed by Amelia who eyed the space where he stood.  
  
"What's going on?" Amelia demanded.  
  
"I'm not here alone," Dean admitted. "I came because Castiel would like to speak with you."  
  
"Castiel?"  
  
His name was uttered in reflex, shock and disbelief coloring it in a not entirely pleasant way and his wings gave an aborted snap even as he tried to control his reaction to it.  
  
"Yes," Dean confirmed.  
  
"Mom," Claire said, speaking for the first time. "Please."  
  
Amelia looked from Dean towards the empty space where she'd correctly deduced that he stood and then to her daughter. The two of them shared a long look and though part of Castiel wanted to reach out and interpret it, he refrained from doing so. He'd already caused this family enough harm and he refused to intrude on their privacy now as well no matter how much he wanted to know precisely what they were thinking right now. Instead he coiled his Grace tightly himself and his bond with Dean, knowing his mate would help steady him. He was not disappointed.  
  
"Okay, yes."  
  
The strain in Amelia's voice was obvious and Castiel took care not to more than uncloak himself, letting her and Claire make the next move on their own time. A sob broke free from Amelia and her eyes watered as she brought a hand up to her mouth. Her pain was clear and he wished desperately to be able to soothe it but instead he flapped his wings once, twice, before bringing those closest to Dean to rest up against his bond mate in an effort to help ground himself.  
  
"Oh G-" Amelia began, a tear running down her face. "Ji- Is-"  
  
"Daddy?" Claire questioned, stepping forwards. "Is he- Can we talk to him, Castiel? Please?"  
  
And there it was, the one question that Castiel had been dreading ever since his first visit to Amelia and Claire after Jimmy's death. It was the reason that he'd stayed away from them as long as he had. He glanced quickly to Dean, the sympathy and support flowing in over their bond doing more for him than he could possibly say. The knowledge that his hunter was more than willing to step in and take care of this was, somehow, all he needed to push on with it himself. It shouldn't have to be his bond mate's burden to bear.  
  
"I'm sorry, Claire, Amelia, but Jimmy is dead."  
  
"No!"  
  
Amelia's sharp cry of denial struck him like a physical blow and Castiel took half a step back as the pain both she and Claire felt reached him despite how heavily shielded he currently was. The shock and sudden grief appeared to be too much for Amelia and she staggered backwards and might have fallen if Dean hadn't reacted instantly, reaching out to catch her.  
  
"No!" Amelia cried out once more, twisting and lashing out at Dean.  
  
The sight of someone striking his bond mate caused an instant surge of protectiveness within him, but Castiel stilled the impulse, clearly able to tell from the way that Dean only pulled her closer to cry against him that there was little real force behind the blows.  
  
"Is... is he in Heaven now?" Claire asked, voice cracking.  
  
"Yes," Castiel replied immediately, turning to focus on her. "He is at peace now, I promise you."  
  
Claire nodded once, tears welling in her eyes, though she kept his gaze. "How did he die?"  
  
"It happened the day Lucifer first rose," Dean said, voice soft but firm. "Cas-tiel was helping us to try and prevent it and both him and Jimmy were killed in the process."  
  
"Both of them?" Amelia questioned, pulling back slightly. "Castiel is still alive."  
  
"By the will of my Father," Castiel explained.  
  
"God brought you back and not Jimmy?"  
  
It was a question that had often bothered Castiel and for which he had no real answer but one. "Much has happened since then, most of it unpleasant and nothing you would wish for Jimmy to have experienced. By not bringing him back, Father ensured that Jimmy did not have to suffer this."  
  
"How did it happen?"  
  
"Amelia," Dean interrupted, voice heavy with meaning as he looked at Claire.  
  
"Claire, honey, give me a moment with Castiel."  
  
"But, Mom!"  
  
"Now, Claire."  
  
The expression that crossed Claire's face was different from any that he'd ever seen on Sam or Dean's faces, but the sentiment behind it was not and Castiel wondered if she'd be as stubborn as the Winchesters.  
  
"Come, Claire, I'll go with you," Dean offered.  
  
That seemed to make Claire waver and she looked between the two of them. There was a flicker of something that Castiel couldn't quite identify though the way her soul reacted to Dean's proximity was not altogether unfamiliar to him and he couldn't help but wonder if she or any other human ever realized just how drawn they were to his bond mate's bright and righteous soul. Based on all of his experiences he sincerely doubted it and figured that they probably wrote it off as charisma, charm or pure physical attraction.  
  
"How did it happen?" Amelia demanded the moment that the two were in the next room.  
  
"Are you sure that you wish to know?" Castiel asked gently.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"It was an archangel. Jimmy and I were smited. It- is an extremely messy way to go."  
  
As Castiel had expected, Amelia paled alarmingly at this but he checked the impulse to step closer to comfort her. He was sure that it was probably the last thing that she wanted of him right now and he disliked how useless he was in the face of her pain. She closed her eyes momentarily before opening them and turning to look into the other room where Claire and Dean were.  
  
"You're different," Amelia finally stated bluntly when she turned to look at him again. "Less cold, more... human."  
  
"Yes, I am."  
  
"How? What happened?"  
  
"Dean."  
  
"Dean?"  
  
Castiel nodded, glancing briefly towards his mate before refocusing on Amelia Novak. "He is a very special person, his soul unique amongst all humans that I or any of my brothers and sisters have ever encountered before. He has fought with everything that he has, refusing to accept anything other than what is right and just. He has taught me much about humanity and what it was that Father saw in you and deemed so precious and deserving of salvation."  
  
That had clearly startled Amelia and he could only hope it was in a good way.  
  
"He did all of that?" Amelia asked, pointing back at Dean. "I was sure he didn't even believe in God after the last time I met him."  
  
"Yes," Castiel smiled. "One of the most important lessons that I have learned from Dean is that things are not always what they appear to be. Not even among angelic ranks."  
  
"I see."  
  
"I know that it may not be enough, but I would like to apologize for my behavior the last time we met. I was rude to you and treated you without the proper respect and consideration that both you and Claire deserved."  
  
"You helped save our lives."  
  
"That is not sufficient to excuse the way I acted."  
  
There was a brief pause during which Amelia studied him. "You really have changed, haven't you?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And Dean Winchester did all of that?"  
  
"He is the most stubborn and determined being that I have ever met."  
  
"Obviously."  
  
"I have seen him stand up to archangels and all but spit in their faces. Though he would deny it, he has done more to unite Heaven in this war and oppose Lucifer than anyone else."  
  
"And somehow he still found the time to teach you to be more human?"  
  
"Yes," Castiel confirmed and hesitated briefly. "He is a vessel as well."  
  
"What? Whose?"  
  
"Michael's."  
  
Amelia's eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped open. "Michael's? As in the archangel Michael?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"But, then why isn't he Michael right now?"  
  
"He has been and will undoubtedly be so again, but for now he is needed as himself while we seek to find a way to deal with Lucifer."  
  
"Deal with him? Can't you just kill him?"  
  
"Not without a battle that would kill millions of innocents and destroy half the planet. Archangels are extremely fierce and powerful beings, Michael and Lucifer most of all. Though Michael would probably win, you would not like the consequences of that particular battle."  
  
"Oh."  
  
Castiel wasn't sure if he should say anything else as Amelia stepped aside, moving towards the window. He doubted that she was actually seeing anything outside as he had observed Dean doing the same thing when he needed to think. Not wanting to intrude, he glanced into the next room at where Dean and Claire were sitting on a sofa. With his angelic hearing, he was able to listen as Dean told her about being Michael's vessel, using it to relate to her own experience as his vessel, however briefly it had been. Of course his bond mate would have helped any child that he could, but he was still incredibly grateful to Dean for taking the time to help her deal with what had happened.  
  
"It was because of him, wasn't it?" Amelia demanded.  
  
"Excuse me?" Castiel replied, turning back to her to find her watching him.  
  
"It was because of Dean being a vessel that you came to realize what it was like for us and Jimmy."  
  
"Yes. Before that I had no real concept of the sacrifices involved, either for Jimmy or those close to him."  
  
"And it's helped this war against Lucifer? The fact that Jimmy said yes?"  
  
"Without a doubt."  
  
"Then make it worth even more. Make Lucifer pay for making Jimmy's sacrifice necessary in the first place."  
  
It was on the tip of Castiel's tongue to say that it wasn't solely Lucifer's fault, that others had been responsible as well, but he caught himself at the last minute. Dean had said that it wouldn't be helpful and would only serve to shatter what little faith Amelia had left and he didn't want that to happen. Michael and Raphael were repentant and would do all that they could to ensure that Lucifer was stopped so there was no need to make Amelia and Claire suffer any more for his brothers' mistakes.  
  
"I will, I promise."


	147. Chapter 146

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's conversation with Claire.

**PAST**  
  
  
As Dean followed Claire into the living room, he silently hoped that Amelia wouldn't be too harsh on Castiel. So far she'd taken things far better than he'd thought that she would, but then he supposed that she  _had_  had a few years to get used to the idea after discovering that her husband really hadn't been crazy after all. And seeing how she'd come through that particular ordeal with her faith intact (as evidence by the little golden crucifix that she wore), he figured that she wouldn't totally lose it now. If only because to do so would mean that she'd spent her entire life worshipping, and lost her husband to, a false God.  
  
"Will you get him?" Claire asked.  
  
"Sorry, what?" Dean replied, moving to sit next to Claire on the couch so that he wouldn't tower over her.  
  
"The one who killed my father, will you get him?"  
  
Ah, crap. "Oh, eh, we kinda already did."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yeah. Do you remember that massive power failure along the entire eastern seaboard last year?"  
  
"That was you?"  
  
"No, that was the archangel that killed your father. The dic- bad angels are kinda flashy like that."  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"In addition to what he'd done to Cas and Jimmy, this angel had information that we needed so Cas and I tricked him into a ring of Holy oil which I then put on fire."  
  
"Is that bad?"  
  
"No angel can cross Holy fire."  
  
"Oh, okay. Why... Why do they need vessels? Why can't they just be amongst us as they are?" Claire questioned after a moment of silence.  
  
"You don't know?"  
  
"No. When I gave Castiel permission to take me, I was already tied up and trapped. I didn't take the time to question him once he said that he could save Mom and me."  
  
"Okay. Well the reason is because only a few special people can stand to see or hear an angel's true form and voice. The rest of us would go blind or deaf and them die if exposed to it for too long."  
  
Claire's eyes went wide. "Really? Are you one of them, those special people?"  
  
"Me, nah. When Cas was first on Earth after he saved me, he tried to talk to me twice, but all he succeeded in doing was to shatter all of the glass in the room and make my ears bleed."  
  
"So he needed to come get Dad."  
  
Dean winced, having never quite thought of it like that. "Yeah, I guess. Sorry."  
  
Claire looked at him thoughtfully for a moment before turning to observe Castiel in the next room and Dean couldn't help but wonder at how oddly she was handling all of this. He'd pegged her as a teenager now but she definitely wasn't acting like one. Was this due to his husband's influence? Of having been a vessel? Or had Claire simply always been far more mature than her age?  
  
Dean desperately hoped that it was the latter. "Hey, are you alright?" he inquired gently.  
  
"I- I want to be mad at him, I really do."  
  
"But?"  
  
"But I can't."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"I- It- Castiel was only with me for a little while, not even half an hour Mom says, and yet it feels like it was so much longer. I don't know how to describe it."  
  
"That's okay, you don't have to. You remember it then?"  
  
"No, not most of it, no, but I do remember some of it and he genuinely didn't want to take Dad back if Dad didn't want him."  
  
"But your father would never leave you like that."  
  
"I know. I- Did, I get Dad killed, Dean?"  
  
The question startled and shocked Dean. "What? No!"  
  
"Are you sure? If it had been me and Castiel instead of Dad-"  
  
"Then it would be you that's dead now instead of him. It wouldn't have made any difference, trust me."  
  
There were tears in her eyes now and Dean felt his heart break for her. "Oh, sweetheart, I'm sorry," he said, pulling her close.  
  
Claire's hands fisted in his shirt as she cried into his chest. Dean made nonsensical little sounds as he held her close and stroked one hand up and down her back.  
  
"Sorry," Claire mumbled, embarrassed as short while later when she pulled back.  
  
"Don't be," Dean responded. "You've got every reason to cry. I cried when I lost my Dad."  
  
"You did?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"It's all just so much. Sometimes I think of that night and..."  
  
"And what?"  
  
"I don't know, I can't explain it. Mom's tried to get me to talk about it, but I can't."  
  
"Do you mean when Cas took you as his vessel?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Then it's probably because you've never been aware of yourself as a soul before."  
  
"What?"  
  
"When Cas took you, it felt like you were being pushed down into yourself, right? And his Grace came to wrap around you when you lost contact with your mea- body."  
  
"That was his Grace?"  
  
"Yep."  
  
The idea awed her, Dean could tell when she turned to look at Castiel once more. For some reason the thought stirred up some jealousy within him. It was totally irrational, he knew, but it was there nonetheless. She'd experienced his husband in a way he'd rather no one else ever did. He tried to shove it aside, knowing that it wasn't even an experience she'd enjoyed, much less cherished.  
  
"Oh," Claire said. "How do you know about all of that?"  
  
"Because I'm a vessel too."  
  
"You are? For who?"  
  
"Michael."  
  
Claire's eyes went wide in shock once more but Dean was glad to see that there was no disbelief there.  
  
"Michael? The archangel? The fighter of demons, holy force against evil, the-"  
  
"Yes," Dean interrupted. "Yes,  _that_  Michael."  
  
"And he's been with you?"  
  
"More than once."  
  
"Then where is he now?"  
  
"He's probably in Heaven at the moment. And before you ask, the whole situation's pretty complicated, but do you understand what I meant earlier? About the soul?"  
  
"Not really."  
  
"When an angel takes you as their vessel, your soul is separated from your body and they keep it safe within their Grace. That's probably why you were having such a hard time putting the experience into words. See, you've never known your soul before, at least not separately from your body anyway.  _That's_  what you were experiencing when Cas took you."  
  
"My soul?"  
  
The awe from his Michael revelation had morphed into a different kind of awe and Dean was glad for it. Let her bask in the fact that she was one of a really small group of people alive today who'd actually experienced their own soul.  
  
"So you've touched Michael's Grace?" Claire asked. "I mean feeling Castiel's was already too much for me and I just..."  
  
"Went under? As for Michael, well as both an archangel and one of the most powerful of them, Mike's even more overwhelming than a seraph."  
  
"Wow, he must have pushed you under pretty quickly then."  
  
"The first time he did," Dean agreed. "Since then though I've managed to stay awake."  
  
"Really? So you're just stuck watching?"  
  
"No, see both Michael and Lucifer are strong enough to be able to interact with their vessels, so Mike and I talk."  
  
Dean hadn't been quite sure how Claire would take that information, more than a little worried that she might get upset or angry that her father hadn't been able to experience the same thing, but not wanting to lie to her either. Despite all of that, what he totally hadn't been expecting was for horror and dismay to flood her face.  
  
"You're aware of him like that the whole time?" Claire demanded urgently.  
  
"Yeah, Claire's what's wrong?"  
  
Claire frowned at his calm reaction. "Wait, you're aware the whole time and that's fine with you?"  
  
"Sure, it means that I know what's happening. Why? Wouldn't you want to be awake and aware?"  
  
"No! I don't want to be rude or anything, but I don't think that I could have handled being that close to Castiel. At least not without going insane."  
  
"Really? Huh," Dean replied, looking over to his husband.  
  
Personally he couldn't imagine  _not_  wanting to be as close as he was to his angel now, and that was a damn site closer than what Claire was talking about. In a way it pleased him as it meant others wouldn't try and steal Castiel away, futile an endeavor as it would be. The rest of him, though, couldn't help but wonder if this was yet another way in which he differed from normal people, or rather from normal vessels. It just figured that he'd be the exception to the exception.  
  
Dean briefly wondered if this had anything to do with Sam acting the way that he was, but then he put the thought aside for later consideration. It wasn't something he wanted to rush and Claire deserved his full and complete attention at the moment.  
  
"No, I can't say that it was anything like that for me," Dean stated.  
  
"Then you're lucky. Castiel was... was  _foreign_  but I could tell there was this immense drive to protect and serve," Claire frowned. "And that sounds like some bad cop flick tagline, but what I meant is that there was this drive and determination along with anger, all like nothing that I've ever even come close to feeling before."  
  
The strength and foreign nature of it were off a bit, but Dean was pretty sure that he knew what Claire meant. It had just never seemed all that overwhelmingly strong to him. So was it Claire who couldn't relate due to her personality or him that was somehow skewed in the angel direction from normal?  
  
The interaction between Castiel and Amelia had changed and Dean was pretty sure that they were finishing things up so he shifted gears as there was one more thing that he wanted to do.  
  
"Sorry but that's not how it seemed to me," Dean said with a shrug. "Now, before I forget, do you have a cell phone, Claire?"  
  
"Sure, why?"  
  
"How about I give you our numbers? Just in case you want to talk or something comes up?"  
  
"Castiel has a cell phone?"  
  
"Yeah, he was always flying off all of the time and Sam and I needed a way to contact him.  
  


* * *

  
  
"What on Earth happened to you?"  
  
The unexpected voice in the otherwise deathly silent room made Dean jump in his chair, knocking it down and making him flounder for balance.  
  
"Very elegant, cupcake," Crowley applauded. "With such agility and grace, it's no wonder angels are lusting after you."  
  
"Crowley," Dean growled, tugging at the bond to ensure that his husband heard it as well. He had promised Castiel that he wouldn't meet the demon alone. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"Why, answering your multiple- and increasingly profane I might add- calls on my voicemail," Crowley replied easily.  
  
"So you just show up here?"  
  
"What can I say? I missed our conversations."  
  
"Bite me, Crowley."  
  
"I doubt your angel would approve, cupcake."  
  
"Touch him and die, Crowley," Castiel stated, suddenly appearing in-between them.  
  
Dean had to choke back a laugh at the words. He really did love his husband, but there were times where he could hardly believe the things that came out of Castiel's mouth. And the worst part was that his angel wasn't even trying to be clichéd or anything as he was pretty sure that his husband had never even seen a movie or TV show that used that line.  
  
The expected reply from Crowley never came and when Dean glanced over at the demon, it was to find that Crowley was staring at Castiel in shock. Shit! He'd totally forgotten that Crowley wasn't aware of his husband's promotion to archangel. Not that it really mattered as Lucifer and Simiel were already aware of it, but he was just more annoyed with himself for not having thought of it.  
  
"Well this is an unpleasant surprise," Crowley finally stated. "This have anything to do with your changes, Deano?"  
  
"My changes?" Dean questioned.  
  
"I'm not blind, cupcake. Or is this your doing, Castiel? Did you feel the need to mark up your little pet? Perhaps to warn the other angels that he's now officially off limits?"  
  
"Hey! I-"  
  
" _The bond,_ " Castiel whispered straight into his mind.  
  
"-object to that statement," Dean finished instead. "I'm not a pet!"  
  
Crowley snorted. "To something this powerful you could hardly be anything else. Just be thankful you're not a disposable plaything."  
  
"Demons tend not to fare all that well either," Castiel deadpanned.  
  
"I've been helping you out, twinkle toes."  
  
"Which is the only reason that you're still alive right now."  
  
As threats went it wasn't terribly original, but Dean could tell that it was effective nonetheless. When you had as much power as his husband did now, it didn't take much. Well, at least as long as you didn't run into someone as stubborn and foolhardy as himself anyway. But that hardly mattered now because while Crowley might well be the former, he most definitely wasn't the latter. No, the crossroads demon had far too good of a survival instinct for that and was therefore keenly aware of how outclassed he suddenly was.  
  
"Good, now that's been established, how about you answer my question, Crowley?" Dean stated.  
  
"I already did."  
  
"Why not just call me back?"  
  
"Because I prefer face to face, lets me check in on my investments."  
  
"Dean is not some soul that's been bartered to you," Castiel stated.  
  
"No, but I've put my lot in with you two so I want to check on how things are going. It's my ass on the line here too and its far too fine of one for me to risk it carelessly."  
  
"How the hell did you even find me here?" Dean demanded.  
  
It wasn't like he'd ever been here before and he'd driven quite a distance from the apartment. Father Mancini had called to tell him that they'd heard of a catholic in Arizona who possessed a large private collection of religious texts and he'd driven right over. The chance to get out of the apartment after several weeks of nonstop research had been exactly what he'd needed, especially since it meant that he wasn't actually slacking off even if it would have been faster to ask for a lift via Angel Air.  
  
"I took the time to get your license plate number the last time we met," Crowley explained.  
  
"You what?" Dean thundered. "Never mind, how'd you get my location from that?"  
  
"I put out an APB on your car as a person of interest."  
  
"You drew legal attention my way?"  
  
The next thing that Dean knew, Castiel had Crowley by the lapels up against one of the walls. "You endangered Dean?"  
  
"No! No, of course not," Crowley replied instantly. "That'd be like shooting myself in the foot. I need your little pet, Castiel. Like I said, I made it out like he was a person of interest, a witness, and I only used a contact of mine to do so. It was nothing more."  
  
In a way it was awesome to see the demon so rattled and Dean was tempted to let Castiel keep him on the edge like that. It would probably do Crowley wonders, though he knew any hope for the improvements to be permanent were nothing but a pipe dream. Still, it was a nice thought and one he wanted to savor, but they had neither the time nor the opportunity at present. The only way he'd gotten access to this private collection was by using his Vatican ID and claiming that he was here on official church business. Not only could the guy return at any time, but he still had a ton of books to look through as well.  
  
He really hated this Apocalypse.  
  
"Next time you want to meet, you call me, got it, Crowley?" Dean demanded.  
  
For a moment it looked like the demon might protest, but then Castiel's wings rose threateningly, essentially cutting Crowley off from everything else and Dean heard the demon sigh.  
  
"Alright, alright, no more dropping in unannounced with your pet," Crowley stated.  
  
Apparently appeased for now, Castiel released Crowley and stepped back. Dean relaxed slightly at that, glad that he didn't need to intervene. It was the last thing that he wanted to do, but he was afraid of being caught with the two of them and needing to come up with some explanation for how they'd gotten into the secure and environmentally controlled room with only one entrance which was computer monitored.  
  
"So do you actually have anything for us?" Dean asked shortly, fingers itching for a salt round filled shotgun.  
  
Just one shot would make him feel really good right about now. Just one. Honest.  
  
"Nothing concrete. There are a lot of rumors flying around that something big is coming and to be ready," Crowley replied.  
  
"And you came here to tell me that?"  
  
"If you'd let me finish, cupcake, then you'd know that there's a little more."  
  
"Yeah? What?"  
  
"Something about some farmer down South somewhere. I'm not entirely sure why this person is of such interest, but there's apparently been some pretty high-level interest in him."  
  
"A potential vessel you think?" Dean questioned, looking at his angel.  
  
"It is a distinct possibility," Castiel replied. "I do not know of anyone from the Campbell line in the part of the country, but I shall have Xarael look into it."  
  
"I'll see if I can't learn anything else about them or get a more specific location," Crowley stated.  
  
"How are you doing on the other front?" Dean asked. "Any luck stirring up a rebellion?"  
  
Crowley's face twisted into a sneer. "Do you have any idea how dangerous a process that is? One misstep and I've got a one-way ticket right back to Hell if I'm lucky. If not, it's Lucifer's personal attention."  
  
"My heart bleeds for you."  
  
Dean was sure that Crowley had a few choice words for him in response to that, but a quick glance towards Castiel clearly was enough to change the demon's mind. He'd have to keep this in mind for the next time that they met. He could have a lot of fun with this. How far could he push before Crowley snapped, archangel nearby or not? It would be informative, he told himself. They had to know their demonic alley, after all. Right?  
  
"Just find something to use against Lucifer," Crowley snapped before he vanished.  
  
"Well that went well, don't you think, Cas?"  
  
"He brought you to the attention of the police once more," Castiel replied.  
  
"Yeah, I'm not thrilled with that either, but at least we don't need to worry about anyone connecting it with the FBI's old files."  
  
"I still do not like Crowley."  
  
"Me neither, but look on the bright side."  
  
"What bright side?"  
  
"If we get through this and stop Lucifer, then we both know Crowley will be more than willing to give us the excuse you need to smite him."  
  
The thought definitely pleased his husband and Dean smiled as he turned his attention back to the medieval text that he'd been reading.


	148. Chapter 147

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobby and Sam have a quiet, early morning talk.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
Rain pattering softly against the window was the first sound that greeted Bobby when he woke. It roused him quickly as it wasn't accompanied by the sounds of water ricocheting off metal that he always heard at home when it was raining. It took him a few seconds to remember that he was still at the Campbell compound and by then he was fully awake.  
  
A quick glance at the clock made Bobby wince but it wasn't the earliest that he'd ever woken lately. In fact it wasn't too early to get up and head downstairs for some coffee and breakfast. Not only would it allow him to use the kitchen in peace without battling off Sam's family but it would let him do some more reading. He had to admit that curiosity had gotten the better of him at times and that he'd snuck a peek at the books that Samuel had bought, just to learn exactly  _how_  the boys had gotten themselves into some of the messes that they had over the years. Especially the ones that he'd always suspected that they hadn't been fully truthful with him about.  
  
Turned out that he'd been right, though after reading what had actually transpired Bobby could understand why they hadn't told him. As it was he still had to laugh at some of it. That Gabriel might have been an ass, but he had to admit that the archangel had some style. He'd pay good money to have seen the boys act out some of those scenarios, he really would.  
  
Amusement aside, though, that wasn't the kind of reading that Bobby intended to do now. No, once he'd learned about the library the Campbells had as well as the electronic catalogue, he'd started combing through them for anything that could be of use to them now. Not only did it make him feel useful while they were stuck here, but it also gave him an excuse to call Dean to ensure that he didn't duplicate any work that the boy and his angels had already done. A good thing too as the number of books that they'd already covered was staggering and covered huge swaths of the Campbell libraries, both physical and electronic.  
  
Bobby snorted as he thought about it while getting dressed. He'd always known that Dean could buckle down and go into research mode when necessary but this was something else entirely. From the breadth and depth of the books covered by team angel, he was beginning to wonder if the boy hadn't read more than him lately. The most amazing thing though was that Dean had done all of that and still considered himself happier now than ever before. Castiel really had to be doing something right for that to be the case.  
  
The thought inevitably brought back memories of Karen and the things that he'd happily done to please her that he otherwise never would have and sadness filled him. It wasn't often that Bobby allowed himself to think of his wife as it all hurt too much but now the memory was more bittersweet than anything else. Regardless of the circumstances, he was happy for Dean as Dean deserved it more than anyone else that he knew. And while it was still no guarantee, having an angel as a significant other was far less likely to end in tragedy than if it were a human, not to mention that Castiel, in particular, seemed especially indestructible. He just hoped for Dean's sake that the angel's good luck streak continued.  
  
"Sam," Bobby said in surprise as he entered the dark kitchen only to find the boy sitting at the table like a ghost.  
  
"Bobby," Sam replied, not looking up from the scarred tabletop.  
  
"What are you doing just sitting here in the dark?"  
  
Sam shrugged. "I couldn't sleep."  
  
"So you came to the kitchen which is filled with things you can't eat or drink?"  
  
"It seemed like a good idea at the time."  
  
Bobby frowned and joined the boy at the table, ignoring his own caffeine craving, knowing that it wouldn't be fair to Sam. "What's really bothering you?"  
  
"What makes you think that something's wrong?"  
  
"Don't be an idjit, boy. When something's on Dean's mind, he stomps around in a snit or goes and bangs up some of my junkers in the pretense of working on them. When something's bothering you, you go find yourself a dark corner and brood or you get prissy."  
  
"I don't get prissy!"  
  
"Or you do both at once." That caused Sam's mouth to snap shut and Bobby considered himself the victor of the first round. Good, now to discover what was actually bothering the boy. "So you gonna tell me or just sit here and mope some more?"  
  
"We've probably got the final cleansing spell today."  
  
"And? Surely you're happy about that. The sooner that we get that done, the sooner you can make your meatsuit a no-fly zone for Lucifer once more and once that happens you can get out of here. And don't even try and tell me that you haven't been going stir crazy since Dean called to say that the Rite of Contressa failed."  
  
"No, it's not that. Believe me, Bobby, nobody will be more ecstatic at revoking Lucifer's go pass than me, nobody."  
  
"So?"  
  
"I was just thinking about the spell itself. You said that Dean will need to be here for a few days for it."  
  
"It seemed like the best solution given that it requires multiple steps at various different times over the course of several days. Plus I figured that it would be a good idea for Gwen and Samuel to get to know Dean better if we're all going to be working together."  
  
"No, no, I totally agree, it's just... I don't know Bobby."  
  
"I can't help you if you don't even know what's wrong, ya idjit."  
  
"It's just... Dean, I guess."  
  
Wariness settled in the pit of his stomach, but Bobby forced his voice to come out level, at least until he knew more. "What about Dean?"  
  
"He's just so different now, it's almost as if I don't know him anymore. If I ever did."  
  
"Now you're just being stupid, of course you knew your brother, Sam."  
  
"Did I really? I mean he says he's been bi forever and yet I didn't know."  
  
"Neither did I, it's just something that Dean kept to himself. Hell, at this point I'm not even sure that John knew about it. From what I've gathered, though, your brother treated his male partners the same as his female ones, well at least until Castiel."  
  
Sam pulled a face at that and Bobby could understand the sentiment. While he had no problem with Dean and Castiel being together and could honestly say that he was glad for them based on how happy the idjit boy was, he couldn't understand it. It was  _Castiel_  after all. Although he'd never actually thought of the angel as a sexual being before, he knew that he'd probably sooner have pegged the angel as asexual rather than anything else. Guess that proved how much he knew. The only thing about the whole situation that didn't surprise him was that given that it had happened, that it was with Dean. The angel had always seemed almost unnaturally drawn to the boy. And, dammit, but he still wanted to know exactly what it was about the boy that drew angels to him like it did.  
  
"Didn't you say that Dean had kept some other relationship from you once? Something with a female reporter?" Bobby continued.  
  
"What? Oh, you mean Cassie."  
  
"Her name was Cassie?"  
  
Sam laughed. "Yeah, kinda freaky isn't it? But I think I see your point. For all that Dean seemed to talk about his hook-ups, he only did it in certain ways. Which has had me thinking."  
  
"About?"  
  
"About how many of those were guys. I mean he used to mention names like Alex, Charlie or Billy and I always just assumed that they were, you know."  
  
"Female?" Bobby offered. "Yeah, that sounds like Dean, give us the truth knowing that we'd never see it for what it was. Your daddy really did teach him far too well."  
  
That drew a fond smile from Sam. "He did always take to anything and everything relating to hunting or hustling very well. It was like he only needed to see it once sometimes."  
  
"That definitely makes more sense now," Bobby stated, looking around pointedly. "It was, quite literally, in his blood."  
  
"Mine too, though you'd never know it."  
  
"Oh I don't think so at all. You forget, I witnessed firsthand how much you resisted your father's efforts to teach you and yet you became a damn good hunter. That wouldn't have happened without some innate ability of your own."  
  
"I guess."  
  
A silence fell between them and for the first time in a long while it was a comfortable one. All it took was one glance for Bobby to see that there was more troubling Sam, but he knew better than to try and force the issue any further because if the boy didn't want to talk about it then Sam really would get prissy. No, it was far better to let the boy get to it on his own time. Things had already gotten far better lately and had only improved with Christian's departure. He was under no illusions that the cousin had been the root of the problems, but Christian had definitely not helped matters any by encouraging Sam's wayward behavior for as long as he had. He just wished that he knew more what had happened to Sam in the first place.  
  
That question inevitably made guilt rise to the surface for Bobby as he hadn't noticed anything for so long. While it was true that he hadn't seen much of the boy during that time, he still felt that he should have noticed something, especially whenever Sam had been talking about Dean. He had always written it off as the boy not being used to not having his older brother around after so long and the fact that Dean now had with Lisa and Ben what Sam had always wanted. Or at least that had been what they'd thought at the time anyway. He shoved it all aside, not willing to entertain such excuses when it wouldn't help matters any.  
  
The growling of his stomach interrupted the silence and Sam laughed even as his own stomach echoed the sentiment.  
  
"Go on, make breakfast and eat before the others get down here," Sam said.  
  
"You sure?"  
  
"Yeah, no need for both of us to starve when there's no need for it. Besides, I can always go somewhere else if the smell gets to be too much for me."  
  
Let it never be said that Bobby needed to be told twice when it came to things like this, so he just got up and started preparing himself some bacon and eggs. He'd probably had them too often as of late, but damn if the local farmer didn't provide them fresh. He hadn't even known that bacon and eggs could taste this good! As soon as he got those going, he filled the coffee machine and set it going as well.  
  
"On the bright side, today should be the last time you need to fast," Bobby offered.  
  
"Yeah, if that new spell of Dean's doesn't require it."  
  
"Dean hasn't mentioned anything, though I suppose that it's still possible."  
  
"It's actually not so bad anymore. I guess that I got used to it."  
  
"You got used to not eating?"  
  
Sam shrugged. "I guess. I think that I'm starting to see why so many religious orders have fasting as part of their common practices."  
  
"You're feeling spiritually empowered?" Bobby demanded in disbelief. "If so you're even more of an idjit then I thought."  
  
"Hey!"  
  
"You're being cleansed of Hell and demon taint, Sam, not being ascended to some higher plane of existence or any such nonsense."  
  
"I know that! It's just... I feel so light in a way."  
  
"It's what you used to feel like, before Ruby."  
  
Sam seemed to hunch in on himself at those words and Bobby felt a little bad for saying them, but only a little. If this was what it took to really make Sam see that what he'd done was wrong instead of just regretting how things had turned out, then so be it. It was the one thing that he still couldn't understand- just  _how_  Sam had started drinking the demon blood- and he'd been infinitely disappointed to discover that it was one thing that hadn't been covered in the books. In fact nothing from that four-month gap between Dean's death at the hellhound's claws and his subsequent resurrection at the hands of Castiel was and he couldn't help but wonder at why. The most immediate answer was that neither Sam nor himself had been the focus of the prophet's attention beyond how their actions affected Dean but he wasn't sure if that was true or not. It seemed very likely since the books had also followed Dean when he was sent to the past and to the alternate future, not to mention showing only his point of view during the djinn fiasco, but he was loath to take such things at face value without some further proof or confirmation.  
  
"I suppose," Sam sighed, going back to examining the scarred tabletop.  
  
Bobby figured that it was probably best to leave the boy to his thoughts for a while, so he finished preparing his breakfast in silence. Despite some lingering guilt, he took a seat at the table and started eating while he flipped through the paper that Sam had already brought in. Though they didn't do much normal hunting anymore, not since Dean's call about the Rite of Contressa having failed, he still liked to keep an eye on what was happening in the world, both so that he could send other hunters to where they were needed and to see if he could spot anything that looked like it might be caused by Lucifer for one of his demons.  
  
"Bobby," Sam finally said softly, almost as if he wasn't sure that he really wanted to speak.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Samuel, he has made a few comments lately comparing me to Dad. Do you think he's right?"  
  
Ouch, now there was a touchy subject if ever there was one and Bobby wasn't sure what the best way to approach it was so he went with what he usually did. Direct and without any form of sugarcoating. "Yeah, in a lot of ways he is."  
  
Sam flinched. "But- How?"  
  
"You've been driven, Sam, much like your father was and when that happens all kinds of other things go right out the window, including things that really shouldn't be so readily dismissed."  
  
"Like Dean."  
  
"For one."  
  
"But Dad and I always clashed."  
  
"Precisely because you were too much alike. Neither of you could compromise or admit that you were wrong so, as a result, you clashed big time."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"I thought you'd come to understand your father and what he did more."  
  
"There's a big difference between that and being told that you're a lot like him."  
  
"I suppose. So what are you planning to do about it?"  
  
"I don't know. You got any suggestions?"  
  
"Well, since you're asking, I'd say you need to seriously reconsider some of what you think you know. I'm sure you noticed how stubborn your daddy could get when he got an idea into his head even if it seemed crazy to everyone else."  
  
"You think I've got something like that now?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Let me guess, it's about Dean."  
  
"I didn't say it."  
  
"You didn't have to, at least not now. You and Samuel, and now even Gwen, have been quite vocal in your opinions on the issue."  
  
"And perhaps that should be your first clue that you might not be right about this."  
  
"But Christian-"  
  
"Do you really want to be bringing him into this right now?" Bobby interrupted. "After the way he treated you at the end there?"  
  
"No, I guess not."  
  
"Just give it some thought, Sam, and consider what happened the last time you were convinced that you were right and everyone else was wrong."  
  
 _That_  caused the boy to flinch as if electrocuted, but Bobby felt he had been justified in making the point. It wasn't often that Sam was this open with him even despite the boy's constant preaching to Dean that his brother needed to open up more and talk about his feelings, so he was going to milk the opportunity for all that it was worth. He really wanted to believe that this was the start of a real, deeper change, but he also wasn't willing to take the risk that this wasn't just a mellowness created by spending a hungry night alone in a cold, dark kitchen. Either way he'd now made his most important point and it was up to Sam to take it or leave it as the boy saw fit.  
  
Bobby just hoped that it would make some kind of impact though he doubted a series of cleansing spells had really gotten rid of the problem. Since when were things ever that simple or easy for them?  
  



	149. Chapter 148

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael awakens Dean late at night with bad news.

**PAST**  
  
  
It said a lot for how much that things had changed that Dean didn't jump when, upon waking to his name being called, he opened one eye only to find Michael's face scant inches from his own. Instead he gave a muffled curse and turned his face the other way. The sensation of being watched didn't fade though and upon opening his other eye he found his lover watching him with amusement. Groaning, he put his face straight into the pillow and tried willing the two angels away. It really couldn't be time to get up yet as it felt like he'd only just closed his eyes.  
  
"That is not conducive to breathing, Little One," Michael stated seriously.  
  
Unable to help himself, Dean snorted and laughed into the pillow. One of Castiel's hands came up to rub his back and he gave an appreciative sound before giving in and turning over so he could sit up and lean back against the headboard.  
  
"Okay, I'm up," Dean said, yawning and rubbing his face. "Give me the bad news."  
  
"Lucifer has broken the Rite of Contressa."  
  
"What? Are you sure?"  
  
"Yes, I can feel it."  
  
"Crap."  
  
Even though he'd known that it was coming, Dean had hoped that they'd have more time than this. His hatred for Simiel increased and he really wanted to be able to gank the bitch already before she could cause any more damage. Her toll was already far too high for his liking. And if he could do it then none of his angels would have to feel bad for having killed a sibling, bad as she might have become.  
  
"I'll let Bobby know once it's a decent hour so that they keep Sam indoors away from anyone who might recognize him and tell Lucy where he is," Dean said.  
  
"Can't you call him now?" Michael asked.  
  
"It is only just past two in the morning," Castiel stated. "Both Bobby and Sam will still be asleep at this time."  
  
"Two?" Dean demanded. "No wonder I'm so tired!"  
  
Or at least he had been anyway. The news of Simiel's success in her plan had woken Dean right up and now he found himself wide awake and ready for action that probably wouldn't come. Great.  
  
"I thought you would wish to know as soon as possible," Michael explained apologetically.  
  
"No, no, it's okay, I do," Dean replied. If he weren't naked under the sheets, Dean would have gotten up and started pacing the room to work off some of his nervous energy. Damn adrenaline. "They can't have that many more cleansing spells to go, now can they?"  
  
"Not if they've been performing them continuously," Castiel replied. "You think we should commence gathering the ingredients for Raziel's spell?"  
  
"It can't hurt. Well, unless any of them can go bad?"  
  
"No, they should all keep for a while," Michael said. "And it would be best for us to be ready as soon as your brother is."  
  
"Which does raise a question," Castiel stated. "As the spell takes several days to complete, will you want to travel back and forth each time or remain there, Dean?"  
  
The question made Dean blink. It was something that he totally hadn't thought about at all. So far he'd only ever had short visits with the others, well except for the occasionally longer ones with Bobby when the older hunter had been somewhere alone. It had been as much to not cause a stir as because it was all that he felt he could handle at present with everything else that was going on, but it was also taking the easy way out.  
  
Dean  _knew_  that any further confrontation with Sam would be both difficult and painful and he'd been putting it off, hoping that the cleansing process would help things but he knew that they could only do so much. While it was true that things between him and his brother had gotten far worse since Ruby and her poisonous blood, the friction and problems definitely hadn't started with her. Besides, he had to get some kind of feel for Gwen before she started helping them out or who knew what could happen? It would also be good to see if what he remembered about his grandfather from before was also all still accurate.  
  
"I suppose it would be best for me to stay there and get everything sorted," Dean replied warily.  
  
"All you need to do is call if you require one of us," Michael stated.  
  
"Yeah, I know."  
  
The words made Dean smile as he thought of Raphael's last visit to the Campbell compound. After that all of his family was going to be wary of his angels and he definitely wouldn't put it past Michael and Raphael to use that to their advantage and drop in unannounced from time to time for the sole purpose of stirring things up a bit. It was what he'd have done once if it had been Sam walking into this kind of situation in the past. The thought warmed him and still managed to fill him with awe. He had big brothers now! He had a husband and sisters and brothers and... yeah, he totally still wasn't ready to touch that one. But he had a whole new family of his own now! One that really wanted him. Or well most of them, those that mattered anyway.  
  
"Always," Castiel promised, pulling him close.  
  
"I wasn't doubting that," Dean responded, closing his eyes and savoring the touch.  
  
"I know, I'm just reiterating it."  
  
"It takes a while for it to really sink in with you," Michael teased. "Your thick skull and all."  
  
Dean opened one eye to glare at his bond brother, but he now knew better than to think that he could win this particular fight.  
  
"You were right, Castiel, he  _can_  learn."  
  
"Oh, bite me, Mickey," Dean retorted halfheartedly.  
  
Michael, the bastard, merely laughed. "I'll leave that to your bond mate and go collect the first ingredients with Raphael."  
  
With a flutter of wings Michael was gone and Dean gave half a thought to going back to sleep before he dismissed it, knowing that it wouldn't work now, not with how awake and ready for action that he was.  
  
"Do we need to head out as well?" Dean asked.  
  
"No," Castiel replied, his hands wandering. "Do you wish to sleep some more?"  
  
"Nah, can't just now."  
  
"Good."  
  
With that Castiel had him on his back once more and Dean really  _loved_  the way his husband's mind worked when his angel followed him down. It was as his bond mate went from kissing him to nuzzling at his neck that he remembered his recent purchase.  
  
"Wait, wait," Dean said, already breathless.  
  
"Beloved?" Castiel inquired with a frown, pulling back.  
  
"I got us something new to try. You're gonna love it."  
  
Curiosity filled his husband's eyes and Dean just smiled as he got out of bed. He shivered once before the air warmed and he tugged at the bond in appreciation. The closer link allowed him to feel  _exactly_  where Castiel's thoughts went when he opened the closet and bent over to pick up the bag with what he'd bought. He laughed and made sure to let his bond mate know how much he approved.  
  
"You'll have to get up," Dean said as he turned back around. "And pull the sheets and blanket off the bed, would you?"  
  
There was no way that Dean was risking the sheets. Once his husband had learned of the difference thread count could make to bedding, his angel had gotten a few sets with what had to be a million count at least, they were so sinfully soft. They'd never compare to Castiel's wings, of course, but  _damn_  were they the second best thing he'd ever slept on by far!  
  
Dean could feel Castiel's curiosity but his angel did as he asked, and helped him put the black plastic sheet over the mattress.  
  
"What is this?" Castiel asked, joining him on the bed once more.  
  
"Patience," Dean smiled, pulling out the first bottle of chocolate sauce and dropping the rest of the bag onto the floor. "Warm this up for me, would you?"  
  
"Chocolate sauce?"  
  
His husband sounded so confused that Dean couldn't help but laugh even as his half hard dick twitched in anticipation.  
  
"Mm," Dean replied, twisting to face Castiel. "You'll see."  
  
With that he took the warm bottle back and tilted his head to pour some into his mouth. Then he put the bottle aside and pulled his bond mate close for a kiss. Castiel came eagerly and he could feel his bond mate's surprise and approval once Castiel got a taste. Never let it be said that his angel was slow because soon his husband was licking into his mouth, chasing the taste of chocolate.  
  
Dean shifted closer so he could rock their hips gently for some friction, not wanting to rush things just yet. When he finally had to pull back for air, he pushed at Castiel's shoulders, urging his angel to lie down on the bed. He then grabbed the chocolate sauce and poured a strategic path along his husband's chest right down to his cock.  
  
"Dean," Castiel moaned, hands coming up to rest on his hips.  
  
"That was nothing compared with what's coming," Dean promised with a wicked smile. "Absolutely nothing."  
  
With that Dean leaned down and began licking up the sauce around Castiel's left nipple. He kept his licks light and kittenish at first, causing his husband to writhe and moan before shifting to begging.  
  
"Dean! Dean, please!"  
  
It was the emotions flowing over their bond though that convinced Dean to firm his licks as he started to follow the chocolate trail to Castiel's other nipple and then down his chest. He had to pause at his bond mate's navel, just to be sure that he got all of the sauce. His angel's hands at his shoulder made him smile and he allowed them to guide him down to where his husband really wanted him. Just before he got to Castiel's cock, though, he detoured quickly to get the dribble that had run down his bond mate's thigh.  
  
"Dean!" Castiel protested.  
  
"Patience is a virtue," Dean teased, laughing as it earned him a growl.  
  
Pleased with himself, Dean licked a line of chocolate off Castiel's cock, making his husband moan loudly in appreciation. He began to slowly suck it all down, taking his time so that he could get all of the chocolate with his tongue, when he caught the edge of a thought from Castiel through the bond. It was more a desire than anything else, but once he focused on it he was able to make it out much more clearly. While Castiel really enjoyed what was happening his angel wanted something more. He frowned for a moment before he realized that it was the chocolate and that he wasn't quite going about this the right way. His husband, after all, was the one who'd never done this before so really he should be letting Castiel be the one to lick off the chocolate. But at the same time he didn't want to relinquish his prize either.  
  
The answer when it came to Dean was so obvious that he couldn't understand why he hadn't thought of it before. It would mean introducing his bond mate to two new things in one day, but he couldn't really see any problem with that.  
  
"Dean, no, I didn't mean-" Castiel began hastily as he pulled off.  
  
"Shh, it's okay, there's a simple solution," Dean reassured.  
  
He grabbed the bottle and opened it once more. First he poured more chocolate sauce over Castiel for himself before he poured some onto himself, taking a moment to just feel it running down his aching erection. When he looked up it was to see his angel licking his lips as Castiel looked at his chocolate covered cock.  
  
"We're going to sixty-nine, Cas," Dean stated.  
  
"Sixty-nine?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
Instead of explaining, Dean just turned around and settled into position, knowing his husband would catch onto the idea easily enough. He was right and it only took a moment for Castiel to start reciprocating his blowjob. He hummed in appreciation causing his bond mate to jerk his hips a little and moan in response. Between the position and the bond they had a real feedback loop going on and never one to let such an opportunity pass by unappreciated, he made the most of it. As a result, it wasn't long at all before they were both coming; chocolate, cum and saliva mixing together as one.  
  
With his post-orgasmic bliss came drowsiness and Dean expended just as much energy as was necessary to turn himself around once more before dropping bonelessly next to his husband.  
  
"I don't suppose that you could just mojo the sheet away?" Dean asked, not wanting to get up to do it.  
  
"Already?" Castiel asked, more than a little forlornly.  
  
A glance at his bond mate showed Castiel ready and eager for more, leaning over him with the bottle of chocolate sauce. Dean laughed but it turned to a scowl when his angel poured a little sauce onto his nose and then proceeded to lick it off.  
  
"Dude!" The rest of his protest was cut off as wings came up through the mattress and sheet to cradle him in their awesome softness. "Fine, knock yourself out, but I'm going to sleep and I'm not cleaning chocolate sauce out of your feathers tomorrow."  
  
The answer seemed to please Castiel well enough as his husband proceeded to pour sauce onto his arm and lick it off as he settled down to sleep.  _Of course_  his angel would take this to the nonsexual level. Chocolate and him, two of Castiel's absolute favorite things, combined. He was drifting off to the thought with a smile on his face when the sugary mixture, thick and sticky, was poured into his ear and he jerked away even before his bond mate's tongue could chase it.  
  
"Cas!" Dean complained, reaching up to rub it away. "That's my ear!" The sauce vanished before he could get at it and Dean looked at his husband in disbelief. "Really, my ear?"  
  
"I like all parts of you," Castiel replied simply.  
  
It was a sentiment that Dean had heard before and while he knew that his angel meant it, he still didn't quite get it. Most people had areas or body parts that they didn't like as much, let alone would ever even consider for things like this, but Castiel just didn't get that.  
  
"Okay, ground rules, no chocolate sauce- or  _any_  sauce- in my ears," Dean said, quickly running over the rest of his body and making his toes curl instinctively as he thought of another one. "Or on my feet. Those two areas are off limits, alright?"  
  
"Okay," Castiel responded, apologizing wordlessly over the bond.  
  
Dean accepted it and turned over to go back to sleep when he felt a burst of delight over the bond before sauce was being poured onto his shoulder. He opened one eye to confirm that, yes, his husband  _had_  just covered his handprint scar in sauce before he couldn't help but laugh.  
  
"Cas, you'd totally cover the bond in chocolate and lick it off if you could, wouldn't you?" Dean questioned.  
  
"Mm, yes, of course."  
  



	150. Chapter 149

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean receives a call from Bobby to say that the last cleansing spell has been performed.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
Normally the call would have come in during the middle of the night and woken Dean, but luckily for him it wasn't a normal day. Some of the demons had been acting up in eastern Asia and they'd gone to help the locals sort them out and check that it wasn't something more. It hadn't been but by the time they were done it was already so late it was technically early and he'd made a derogatory comment about the French as he'd been dealing with a demon who'd chosen the single most obnoxious Frenchman that it could find as his host and he'd had to put up with it for far too long.  
  
Castiel had pretended affront and claimed that he had to show him how wrong he was about the French though Dean suspected that was nothing but a ruse to take him out for breakfast in Paris because the stupid French didn't realize that it was the middle of the night and that they should all be in bed like good little Frenchmen. No, they had to insist that it was actually morning and breakfast time.  
  
They did have amazing croissants, though, Dean was forced to admit as he took his first bite. No, he took that back, they were downright Heavenly croissants. Smug satisfaction rippled about the bond from Castiel and he flicked a crumb at his husband.  
  
"Wait until you try the pain au chocolat," Castiel replied evenly, pronouncing it all correctly and authentically.  
  
Dean cursed him in fluid Italian.  
  
"That is not anatomically possible."  
  
The ringing of his phone saved Dean from responding, which was good as he was far too surprised that it worked here to come up with anything.  
  
"Morning, Bobby," Dean greeted.  
  
"You sound far too cheerful to be natural at this time of night."  
  
"Well I can assure you it is, Cas is right here if you want that verified."  
  
"No, that's okay," Bobby replied before he paused. "Is that people I hear talking?"  
  
"Yeah, why?"  
  
"I really didn't wake you, did I?"  
  
"Nope," Dean replied, a little unsure before the penny dropped. "You wanted to pay me back for that phone call last week, didn't you?"  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about," Bobby replied gruffly but it didn't fool him.  
  
"Oh you really did. You should be grateful, Bobby, I could have called you as soon as Michael brought me the news, instead I waited for a more reasonable time."  
  
"Reasonable time he says," Bobby muttered. "Where the hell are you anyway? That doesn't sound like a bar."  
  
"Paris, France," Dean replied gleefully, taking a bite of his croissant.  
  
"France?!"  
  
"Yeah, you know, the country in Europe with the awesome food?"  
  
"I know where France is, ya idjit. What are you doing there?"  
  
"Having breakfast."  
  
"Having breakfast?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"'Cause Cas wanted to prove a point and I was hungry as we fought demons in China all of last evening and into the early hours of today."  
  
"You fought demons in China?"  
  
Oops, Dean could detect an edge of something not quite sane in Bobby's voice and he realized that he might have overdone it a little. "Yeah, we've kinda gone global this past year, Bobby."  
  
"You, gone global?"  
  
"Angel Air beats airplanes any day of the week, especially with archangels at the helm."  
  
"That's in the cockpit, not at the helm, idjit," Bobby admonished. "And what do you mean exactly when you say gone global? Where else have you been?"  
  
"Well, let's see now, there's been Mexico, Australia, the Vatican, Belgium, eh..."  
  
"French Guiana," Castiel added.  
  
"Yeah, French Guiana."  
  
"All of that on top of South Africa?" Bobby demanded.  
  
"Yep. Hey, hang on a minute, how'd you know about South Africa?" Dean asked. "No, wait, let me guess. Becky."  
  
"She mentioned something about it and you and Raphael getting injured there."  
  
Dean winced at the memory, though he smiled when his husband's wings reached out to touch him. "Yeah, there was an incident there."  
  
"Sounded more than just a mere incident from what she said, though I got the impression she's prone to exaggeration."  
  
"Oh, trust me, she definitely is. In this case, however, not so much unfortunately."  
  
"That bad, huh?"  
  
"You have no idea, Bobby, you have no idea. Think of the worst that you've seen of angel fights and then multiply it by ten to get some vague idea of what it's like when archangels go at it."  
  
"Christ."  
  
"Don't blaspheme."  
  
The words were out of Dean's mouth before he even realized what it was that he was going to say and by the time that he did it was already too late. There were a few moments of stunned silence, not only from him but from both Bobby and Castiel as well. He'd managed to catch everyone off-guard at once, himself included. A quick glance up at his husband showed a surprised but pleased look on Castiel's face and he returned the smile automatically before taking a sip of his coffee to help him clear the dryness he suddenly felt in his throat.  
  
"Well, that wasn't something I'd ever expected to hear coming out of your mouth," Bobby finally stated.  
  
"Yeah, me neither," Dean admitted, rubbing his face.  
  
"It's a good thing that I know where it's coming from or I'd have to test you the next time I saw you."  
  
"Ha ha, very funny Bobby."  
  
"You did just hear yourself, didn't you, boy?"  
  
"What can I say? You hang around with three archangels, sooner or later something's gonna rub off on you."  
  
"A hell of a thing for you to pick up though."  
  
Dean laughed. "It was a gradual process, trust me. It started with me not saying any of that crap anymore."  
  
"What? You, Dean Winchester, don't swear anymore?"  
  
"Hey!" Dean protested, glaring as Castiel laughed at the disbelief in the older hunter's voice. "And I didn't say that I don't swear anymore, just that I don't blaspheme."  
  
"Same difference with you, boy."  
  
"Bite me, Bobby. Now was there a point to this call or shall I just hang up on you now?"  
  
"You got somewhere to be?"  
  
"Actually there's this amazing croissant here just waiting for me to eat it and then there's a Heavenly pain au chocolat and coffee better than anything that you've probably ever tasted, though it's not as good as that Colombian stuff Cas gets for me straight from the source."  
  
"Laying it on a little thick, aren't ya?"  
  
"No such thing when it comes to the French and their pastries. Mm."  
  
"You're gonna be the size of walrus if you're not careful."  
  
"That's what I told Cas but he pointed out that we've got this perfect workout regimen. See, what we do is-"  
  
"No!" Bobby interrupted. "Don't you dare! I don't want any details, Becky already mentioned far more than I ever wanted to know about your sex life!"  
  
Unfortunately for Dean he'd just been taking another sip of his coffee and now choked on it. "Becky did  _what_?"  
  
"Said some stuff I don't think I'm ever going to be able to unhear, no matter how hard I try."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"Like wings and wing oil."  
  
Dean blinked for a moment before he threw his head back and laughed. His husband's wings and all of the little extras they brought to sex had been so totally incorporated into their relationship that he honestly no longer thought of any of it as being weird or different. So to hear Bobby talking about it as being something so foreign and alien as to be considered kinky or fall under 'too much information' was hilarious.  
  
"Dude, seriously?" Dean questioned. "You think  _that's_  bad?"  
  
"No! Dean, I am warning you, boy, don't you dare mention anything else."  
  
"Aw, but Bobby, there was this one thing that I was just dying to tell you about. It-"  
  
"I'll tell your brother and grandfather about that incident at my house when you were twelve."  
  
The threat was enough to make Dean's mouth snap shut with an audible click and his face flushed as he thought about that particular incident. He'd done his utmost best to not ever think about it in the hopes that it would simply fade away as if it had never been, but all it took was one little reminder and the scene flashed before his eyes once more in full Technicolor detail. Castiel's head titled as his husband looked at him inquiringly but he shook his head firmly. They were  _not_  going to talk about it. Ever.  
  
"You wouldn't dare," Dean tried.  
  
"Try me."  
  
"I swear, Bobby."  
  
"Hey, if you don't say anything then neither will I, it's that simple."  
  
"You drive a hard bargain, Singer."  
  
"An old man's gotta keep his sanity somehow around you two Winchesters."  
  
"So you admit that you're old?"  
  
"Not as old as you. You're what? Nearing seventy-five now?"  
  
"And yet I'll never look a day over thirty-one. Ever."  
  
There was a pause before Bobby spoke again, all levity gone from his voice. "What did you do now, ya idjit?"  
  
"Whoa, relax, Bobby! It's not my doing, it's Cas'," Dean said and got a disgruntled look from his angel for it. "Turns out he likes me just the way I am."  
  
"He's freezing your ageing?"  
  
"Yep."  
  
"You sound happy with that."  
  
"Are you kidding me? No ageing means no worries about slowing down or any of that crap that happens as your body comes down from its peak. I know you know what I'm talking about here, old man."  
  
"You better watch yourself, boy. And it may sound like fun now, but what about when you can't stay in one place because people will start to notice that something's not right?"  
  
"Like we ever stick around anywhere long enough for that to happen. Besides, Cas is an angel, remember? He can make it look like I'm ageing even when I'm not."  
  
"Castiel's more than a mere angel these days, I hear."  
  
"Huh, what?" Dean asked before he recalled that they hadn't ever told them about his bond mate's promotion. "Oh for! Just how much did Becky tell you guys?"  
  
"Far too much in some areas and not nearly enough in others."  
  
"That's not the way I'm hearing it."  
  
"We can discuss the exact details later," Bobby stated. "Now the reason that I called is because we're done with the cleansing spells."  
  
"What? You are?"  
  
"Yeah, we performed the last one last night and have been doing every last check we can think of since then. You brother's passed all of them even if the most powerful ones still bother him a little."  
  
"That's to be expected," Castiel said, raising his voice enough that it would carry over the phone and Dean shifted so it would work more easily.  
  
"You heard that, Bobby?" Dean demanded.  
  
"Yeah. That because of how long ago Azazel first gave Sam demon blood?"  
  
"Yes," Castiel confirmed. "That and I believe that Sam has an inherent darkness within him that makes him more susceptible to it than most humans and thus it'll cling more readily to him that it would to others without an extreme effort on his part."  
  
"But he'll be okay, right?" Dean inquired.  
  
"Yes, your brother will be fine. This will also not interfere with Raziel's spell."  
  
"Excellent," Bobby stated. "So, when do you want to start?"  
  
"The sooner the better," Dean replied. "I need to check the lunar calendar as it was important and we'll also need to contact Mike and Raph to make sure that they have everything, not to mention that those of us who are human need at least some sleep. So how about we come by this afternoon, would that work?"  
  
"That won't be a problem. Samuel's already got a room set up for you and there's a spot out front for your damn car."  
  
Dean laughed. "Thanks, Bobby. See you soon."  
  
"Just get back here in one piece, ya idjit."  
  


* * *

  
  
Despite the fact that Dean had packed up and moved nearly as often as some people changed their socks, there was something very hard about packing his duffle now. He couldn't quite put his finger on it but it clung to him from the moment he'd first pulled his duffle out and started putting clothes into it. And the worst thing was that he wasn't even moving out, just packing some things for a trip of about a week. It also wasn't until now that he'd realized just how much junk he'd accumulated since Castiel had been injured and he'd gotten the apartment. It seemed that now that he had a place to store it, he'd been picking up things here and there that he otherwise never would have.  
  
Dean paused as he looked at their kalsika. Part of him was tempted to take it along with him, but the rest of him knew that if he did someone else was bound to touch it and the thought elicited an instantaneous negative reaction within him. The kalsika was  _theirs_ \- his and Cas'- and it wasn't for anyone else to touch. Therefore it would have to remain here as there was absolutely no way that it would go unnoticed if he took it with him, not with how it still glowed with the multicolored light it had gained during its initiation.  
  
With a soft flutter of wings, Castiel arrived back in their bedroom. "Are you ready to go?"  
  
"Yeah, I think so," Dean replied, closing his duffle.  
  
It had been a long time since he'd had so much trouble deciding what to pack but Dean knew the actual problem wasn't that he was indecisive so much as he was trying to put off the inevitable. This wasn't just a quick visit with Sam and his mother's family, but rather an extended stay that was one hundred percent guaranteed to be fraught with both tension and ugly arguments, not to mention a less than pleasant spell that they'd need to perform. He'd read over Raziel's writing again and it made it quite clear that the magic would hurt the one that it was performed on and while he and Sam were currently estranged to put it gently, he still felt that instinctive and gut-deep reaction to protect his little brother from harm. Even that of the self-inflicted variety.  
  
"You don't have to remain there if you do not wish to," Castiel said, stepping close. "One of us would be more than happy to bring you back and forth each time."  
  
"Thanks, Cas, but I really shouldn't do that. It's time to bite the bullet." Castiel tilted his head at the expression, feathers rippling and Dean had to smile. "It means that it's time to face the music."  
  
Dean could have gone on, listing a whole host of other, similar expressions but his husband shut him up in the most effective and pleasant way possible; by kissing him. There was fond exasperation coming through the bond and he pelted back his own amusement and the fact that he found his angel's confusion and inability to work out the expressions adorable. And it was official, Castiel had turned him into a chick, otherwise he'd never have used that word to describe anything about a partner.  
  
"I assume that you want me to take the Impala with us," Castiel said when he pulled back.  
  
"Yeah, of course. That way I've got an out if need to get out of there for a short while and think."  
  
"You could always call me."  
  
"Trust me, in those cases you probably wouldn't want me to."  
  
"I'd be able to lift your mood far faster than a drive could."  
  
Dean laughed. "Of that I have absolutely no doubt. You'd also shut my ability to think coherently down pretty damn fast as well though and while that's awesome, it would probably defeat the purpose in at least some of those cases."  
  
"Thinking is overrated."  
  
He would have laughed again except that his husband kissed him once more and Dean moaned instead. "We're never going to get anywhere at this rate," he warned.  
  
Normally Dean wouldn't care, but today was the last night before the new moon and Raziel's spell had to be started at the end of the lunar cycle during the waning crescent. So if they didn't do the first part tonight, then they'd have to wait most of another month and that was simply something they couldn't afford to do at the moment, much as he wished to finish what his bond mate was starting here.  
  
"I know," Castiel replied, pulling back though he sent a pulse of love through the bond.  
  
Dean returned it, feeling far better, before he nodded. "Alright, let's go."  
  
"Do you have everything you require?"  
  
"Yeah, I've already put some of the books in the car, so it's just me and the duffle from in here."  
  
His husband reached up and brushed two fingers to his forehead and then Dean was standing outside beside his baby. Before them was what he assumed to be the Campbell family compound though he'd never seen it from the outside before. Immediately some dogs started to bark somewhere round back and he had the brief thought that they'd probably just circumvented about half of his grandfather's protections though he made a mental note to have his own look around and make sure that everything was up to snuff. No way was he letting anything happen because he got complacent now, not that he didn't trust Bobby to have done so already, but he knew far more now than either of the older hunters did when it came to their current enemies.  
  
"You coming in with me, Cas, or do you gotta be somewhere?" Dean asked.  
  
"I can come in for a short while if you think it best."  
  
"You don't?"  
  
"I do not believe your grandfather and cousin will be at ease in my presence after what happened with Raphael's last visit."  
  
The memory made Dean smile though he had to concede the point. "Okay, fine, I'll see you later then."  
  
"Just call when you're ready to start the spell."


	151. Chapter 150

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's arrival at the Campbell family compound.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
The irony that the thing making him pause now was the same thing which used to drive him so relentlessly wasn't lost on Dean and it only served to drive home once more just how much things had changed in the last year.  
  
 _Family_.  
  
It had been the source of so much emotion over the years. Love, grief, hope, terror, comfort, panic, relief, anger, safety and, of course, unimaginable pain. For someone who'd always abhorred chick flick moments as much as he had, it was almost a surprise to Dean that he'd always clung to his family the way that he had.  
  
Of course there were different definitions of family, Dean now understood. There was the one that he'd had before- his father and Sam- the kind of family which you didn't choose; the kind that just was, bound by blood. For the longest time that had been the only kind of family that he'd known. A child didn't think of the fact that this bond didn't exist between their parents after all and even when Bobby had slowly joined their family unit in his mind it hadn't altered anything as Dad had been the one to bring the other hunter in.  
  
Over the past few months that had all changed though. It had taken far longer than it really should have, but eventually it had dawned on Dean that there was another kind of family. The family that you chose and made for yourself; the kind that wasn't just decided for you by fate or the decisions of your parents. It was the kind of family that he'd come to care about most and to which he now clung. Sure, Michael and Raphael or any of Castiel's countless other siblings and relations weren't something that he could choose, and there were definitely ones in there who he'd far rather not be related to even if just by bonding. The important connection, though-  _his husband_ \- had been entirely his choice and that was what was important.  
  
The realization that Castiel and he were a family in their own right, along with his two new friends, had been a revelation and one of which the awe still hadn't quite faded. Nor would whatever happened here over the course of the next week impact that family any.  
  
That thought fortified Dean enough to shoulder his duffel and approach the house. The gravel crunched oddly beneath his feet and when he looked down he saw large chunks of rock salt mixed in with the small stones. The discovery made him smile and eased more of the tension. If this was the kind of work his mom's family did then he could definitely see them getting along with each other. Well, at least now that Christian was gone anyway. Though the guy had never been more than an annoying and obnoxious ass to his face, the mere fact that Bobby had been as glad as he was when Christian had left was more than enough for him as it told him all that he needed to know.  
  
"Dean."  
  
The voice made him look up and Dean smiled when he saw his grandfather standing in the now opened doorway. "Samuel."  
  
"Please, call me grandpa or grandfather or any other variation thereof."  
  
"Pops?" Dean tried to cover the sudden little frisson of unease that he felt.  
  
"If that strikes your fancy," Samuel replied, pulling him close into a hug when he got within arm's reach of the man. "I'm glad that you're finally here."  
  
"Uh, thanks."  
  
Awkwardly, Dean returned the hug, pulling back as soon as he could politely do so. He couldn't quite remember the man being so touchy-feely before, though, to be fair, Samuel hadn't known who he was the first time that they'd met. Hell, he'd be cautious about any new hunter who suddenly turned up, especially if he had a daughter and the guy was spending time with her.  
  
"Dean, there you are, I was beginning to think that you weren't going to show up," Bobby said as he stepped into the hall from a side room.  
  
"What, and leave you guys hanging?" Dean asked.  
  
"Well you never know what might have come up in Egypt or Azerbaijan."  
  
"Azerba what?"  
  
"Azerbaijan, it's a little country in Eurasia, formerly part of the Soviet Union."  
  
"Nope, sorry, not been there yet."  
  
"Yet he says," Samuel laughed, closing the front door. "Come on, Gulliver, I'll show you where to put your stuff."  
  
"Not seen any tiny people yet either."  
  
"I sense a but in there," Bobby commented, following them down the hall towards the staircase.  
  
"Well there was this pixie infestation a few months back."  
  
"Pixie?" Samuel demanded, turning to look at him in disbelief.  
  
"Yeah," Dean confirmed. "And before you ask, no, I didn't actually see them as Michael smote them all before I could."  
  
"Welcome to the Winchester world," Bobby told Samuel. "You still sure you want in?"  
  
"It'll keep me from getting bored if nothing else," Samuel replied though Dean didn't fail to notice the quick glance his grandfather shot his way.  
  
"So how's Sam doing?" Dean asked as they reached the second floor. "Is he ready for tonight?"  
  
"Yes, he's sleeping just now as the last few spells took a lot out of him," Bobby stated. "But he's ready. He really wants Lucifer's all-access backstage pass revoked so he can get out of the house."  
  
"Yes, your brother has been going a bit stir crazy," Samuel added.  
  
Dean couldn't help but snort at that. He'd seen his brother confined indoors before and it was never pretty. For all that Sam could spend hours in front of a computer screen or looking through a book, the moment that his little brother wasn't allowed out, Sam couldn't focus worth a damn. He strongly suspected that it had to do with his brother's innate inability to take being told what to do. The best way to ensure that Sam would do something was to tell him that he wasn't allowed to do it.  
  
It didn't pass Dean by that they were leading him straight past several empty bedrooms for the one at the very end of the hall, well away from the ones that had clothes or unmade beds in them. Were they expecting him to have Castiel over at night or was this just an attempt to give him some space and privacy? His thoughts leaned towards the former option when they entered the room and he saw that it had a double bed.  
  
"Here you go," Samuel said. "This should have everything you need and there's a bathroom you can use next door."  
  
"It's great, thanks," Dean replied, dropping his duffel onto the bed. "So, where's the kitchen?"  
  
Bobby laughed and looked at Samuel as they left the room. "If you thought that Sam ate a ton, wait until you see what Dean can pack away."  
  
"Hey!"  
  
"You can't be serious," Samuel replied.  
  
"Oh, I am, it's a miracle that he isn't a lot heavier."  
  
"Standing right here," Dean stated, scowling.  
  
"What, are you really gonna try and claim that you don't enjoy eating?" Bobby questioned.  
  
"I have a healthy appetite."  
  
"That sounds like a justification to me," Samuel commented.  
  
"If you wanna talk about obscene portions then you should have seen Sam's during his growth spurt. He went from below average to freak in no time flat."  
  
"I remember that," Bobby chuckled. "The idjit couldn't take a step without stumbling over his own two feet."  
  
"I wasn't quite that bad," a sleep-roughed voice protested.  
  
"Hello, Sam," Dean greeted, turning to face his brother where Sam stood in a doorway that had been closed before. "Sorry if we woke you."  
  
Sam shrugged. "S'okay. I probably shouldn't sleep any longer if I want to get any tonight. Do you have everything that we need?"  
  
"No, Mike and Raph are going to bring it all over tonight."  
  
"Are you sure that they'll show?"  
  
"Yes, Sam, of course I'm sure," Dean replied firmly, bristling slightly at the implication. "They're on our side and want this as much as we do."  
  
His brother looked like he wanted to protest that statement, but Bobby must have made a gesture behind his back as Sam subsided ungracefully. Dean forced himself to let it go and instead followed his grandfather and Bobby back downstairs. He was given a brief tour of the rest of the compound and he made sure to ask about defenses and made a mental note to check both the armoury and the library later though he knew that Bobby was already making his way through the latter.  
  
"Hello, Dean," Gwen greeted when they got to the back porch to find her sitting there, sharpening a wide assortment of blades with a whetstone. "It's good to see you again."  
  
"And you," Dean replied. "Nice machete."  
  
"Thanks, it's my favorite. Bagged my first vampire with it."  
  
The response made Dean smile and he thought that he could definitely get to like her if this was any indication of what she was like.  
  


* * *

  
  
It took all of the control that Samuel had to keep his hands to himself and to remain where he was. He wasn't sure what it was, but something about having his oldest grandson nearby made him want to reach out and touch Dean. Almost as if he didn't quite believe that this was real and that the boy would vanish if he wasn't careful, like some ephemeral ghost in those cheesy movies that Deanna used to love so much before she learned the truth of what was really out there.  
  
As it was, Samuel was able to restrain himself but only just and that mostly because he was pretty sure that he'd already partially weirded Mary's firstborn out earlier with his overly familiar behavior. The problem was that the boy looked so much like his mother and he kept seeing his precious Mary in him. More than once he'd found himself noticing something about Dean out of the corner of his eye that was so achingly like his daughter that it hurt and yet he couldn't help himself from looking for more. The way that Dean laughed was just like Mary's laugh and he couldn't help but wonder if watching his son grow up hadn't been the worst form of torture for John, always seeing his dead wife while also having the proof that she lived on in their sons.  
  
Samuel knew that he really should be getting to the kitchen as it was his turn to make dinner, but he couldn't seem to pull himself away either. They'd all convened in the dining room to go over the notes that Dean had on the spell and he'd use that as his excuse if anyone asked why he hadn't gotten started yet. After all this was far more important than food and they still had enough bread left for sandwiches if it came to that.  
  
"I don't get why we need hemlock in the potion to be administered on the fourth day," Gwen said, frowning at the page of notes she was studying. "Won't that kill Sam?"  
  
"No, don't worry, I already asked the same question," Dean replied. "It's apparently necessary to help stabilize the Abramelin oil and the demon tears as they would normally form a very unstable concoction."  
  
"Did you just say demon  _tears_?" Bobby demanded.  
  
"Yep. Michael looked far too gleeful at the thought of collecting that particular ingredient for it to be anything other than what it sounds like."  
  
"Did you ask him how he intended to go about collecting them?" Gwen asked.  
  
"Nope."  
  
"Pity 'cause I'd really like to know that particular trick."  
  
Dean laughed and Samuel found his eyes once again drawn back to the boy. Or not boy, really, but he couldn't help but think of both Dean and Sam in that way. To him they were boys;  _Mary's_  boys. He wondered what she would think of them if she could see them both now. He knew that she wouldn't be happy that John had raised them as hunters but given the circumstances he really didn't think that she could fault her husband all that much. John had been right in thinking that Azazel had further plans for Sam and would one day be back. If the man hadn't raised the boys as hunters then they'd have been sitting ducks and would probably both be dead now. Or worse.  
  
The thought made Samuel shudder, thinking back on everything that the books had mentioned about the other children, what had happened to them and what that yellow-eyed son of a bitch had intended for his youngest grandson. He almost regretted the fact that Dean had killed Azazel as he really would have liked to have done it himself. He'd had his chance though and had failed and that was something that he'd have to live with, knowing that he could have stopped it all before Mary had ever been forced to make a deal to save her boyfriend's life.  
  
"Well you can always ask him when he comes by later," Dean said, drawing Samuel's attention back to the others once more.  
  
"That's an awful lot of hemlock, though," Sam stated. "You sure it won't just kill me?"  
  
"Relax, the crushed bezoar will neutralize the toxic effects of the hemlock."  
  
"Crushed bezoar?" Bobby repeated. "You mean that's real?"  
  
"Are you really still surprised at anything having a basis in reality anymore? After everything that we've seen?" Dean questioned.  
  
"What, you gonna tell me you believe in the tooth fairy now too?"  
  
"Honestly? I wouldn't be astonished to learn that there's something in there. Some grain of truth."  
  
"We can hardly believe what we do know at this point," Samuel pointed out. "So why not things that even us hunters used to think were nothing but pure myth or legend?"  
  
The ringing of Dean's cell phone should have been the perfect excuse for Samuel to leave the room and get started on dinner, but he ignored that and focused on his grandson's notes while trying not think about whether Dean's handwriting was similar to Mary's or not.  
  
"Hello," Dean greeted, not that Samuel was listening or anything. "Padre Mancini, come sta?"  
  
Samuel's head jerked up to stare at his eldest grandson the moment that the foreign words registered. Was that Spanish? No, though his Spanish was rusty at best, he knew enough to know that while padre could definitely be Spanish, the rest wasn't. So what on Earth was it? He hadn't realized that Dean could speak another language. Turning to look at Sam, intending to ask his other grandson, he discovered that whatever language Dean was speaking, it was a newly acquired skill as the look of pure astonishment on Sam's face clearly said that the boy hadn't known that his brother could speak it. A quick glance at Bobby further confirmed his suspicions and he wondered when Dean had possibly found the time to learn a new language with everything else that the boy had been dealing with in the last year. Because know it Dean did as the words were rolling off his grandson's tongue far too quickly and fluently to signify anything other than extreme proficiency.  
  
"Is that Italian?" Gwen asked in a whisper.  
  
"It definitely sounds like it," Bobby said.  
  
"Since when does Dean speak Italian?" Sam demanded.  
  
Samuel raised an eyebrow. "If you don't know then how do you expect any of us to?"  
  
Sam threw him an annoyed look and Samuel felt his shoulders stiffen. Unusual circumstances or not, he was still the boy's grandfather and deserved a certain level of respect.  
  
"Non si preoccupi, mi prenderò cura di lui," Dean said, then paused before continuing. "Anche lei. Arrivederci, Padre Mancini."  
  
"What the hell was that?" Sam demanded the moment Dean closed his cell phone.  
  
"Huh?" Dean questioned, turning back around to face them.  
  
"Since when do you speak Italian?"  
  
"Oh, uh, since Michael downloaded it into my brain."  
  
"Since Michael-" Sam cut off, clearly too stunned to speak.  
  
"They can do that?" Gwen inquired. "Download a language, just like that?"  
  
"It's a little more complicated and painful than it sounds, but essentially, yes," Dean confirmed.  
  
"Why didn't Cas ever mention this before?" Sam asked. "You know, like when we were going through tomes and tomes of archaic Latin lore?"  
  
"I don't know, you'd have to ask him. Maybe he didn't think it was necessary."  
  
"Forget about necessary, he had to have known that I'd love that!"  
  
"Why did you need to know Italian?" Bobby asked.  
  
It wasn't until the other hunter spoke, his voice far quieter, that Samuel realized just how much Sam had raised his voice. Dean's had escalated in response, probably an automatic reaction to having his... his lover criticized and he hadn't realized how loud they'd gotten until now. Despite the lack of volume, Bobby's question instantly captured his attention due to its nature. Just why had Dean needed to know Italian anyway? It wasn't like Latin which any real hunter needed in order to survive these days, let alone excel and as far as global languages were concerned Italian was hardly even a blip on the radar. The fact that the question seemed to make Dean wince only served to intrigue him even more.  
  
"Because it was the only language that everyone present at the Vatican that day knew well enough to be able to follow the conversation, so it was easier for me to learn Italian than for them to translate everything that Mike or I said," Dean replied.  
  
Wait, did his grandson really just say what Samuel thought that Dean had said?  
  
"Did you just say the Vatican?" Samuel demanded in stunned disbelief.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"The Vatican? As in the head of the Roman Catholic Church?" Sam questioned, a hint of what sounded suspiciously like hysteria in his voice. " _You_  went to the Vatican?"  
  
"More than once actually," Dean replied.  
  
" _Why_?"  
  
"Because we needed something that they had and once they realized what was going on, they offered to help us in any way that they could."  
  
"You're working with the Vatican?" Bobby demanded. "You?"  
  
Dean snorted. "Yeah, who'd have thought, right? But what can I say, they've got amazing resources. Wait until I show you some of the books that they lent us."  
  
"You have books from the Vatican?" Sam questioned and Samuel thought the boy sounded close to fainting. "From their archives?"  
  
"No, Sammy, from their kitchen. Of course the books come from their archives."  
  
"We're just a little surprised, Dean," Gwen stated. "This is... huge, I mean come on, the Vatican?"  
  
"Okay, sorry, you're right. It is a big deal, I've just gotten used to it by now I guess."  
  
"You've gotten used to being able to waltz right into the Vatican and receive their help?" Samuel asked, shaking his head. Only his grandson. He was starting to see what Bobby had been trying to warn him about when it came to the Winchesters. "Wait, are they providing any kind of financial aid? Rumor is that they're wealthy on a rather un-Christian like scale."  
  
"Well I can't say anything about what they might have, but yeah, they've given me a credit card that supposedly doesn't have a limit on it," Dean replied.  
  
"Supposedly?"  
  
"It's not like I've gone out and tested it or anything."  
  
"You haven't?" Sam asked, the surprise and disbelief in his voice making something ugly twist in Samuel's gut. "I'd have thought that you'd have gone on a bender or two with it, perhaps rack up reams of porn and erotica charges."  
  
The emotions that flashed across Dean's face came too hard and fast for Samuel to catch them all but he was pretty sure that there was pain and anger in there before the slate was wiped clean and Mary's firstborn stared at his brother with cold eyes. The result was so unnerving that he couldn't help but wonder if this was what Dean had been like in Hell during the last decade of his time there. Was that the face that the souls that Dean had tortured had seen? He shoved the thought aside ruthlessly, not wanting to think about either it or of Dean being in Hell at all. The mere thought of what had been done to his grandson was enough to make him physically ill if he let it.  
  
"No, Sam," Dean replied, voice as emotionless as his face. "I would not jeopardize such a powerful connection for something so stupid. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to pass on a message."  
  
With that Dean stepped away from the dining room table and moved towards the window. It was only a few feet away so when his grandson started speaking again, Samuel had absolutely no trouble hearing the words.  
  
"Hey, Mike, the next time you ask someone to do something for you that requires them letting you know when it's ready, you actually have to give them your phone number. Otherwise they're not gonna be able to, you know, get back to you about it. They can't just magically pull your number out of a hat and it's not exactly listed anywhere. Anyway, Father Mancini just called to say that they have that halcyon thingy we need and you can pick it up whenever you want."  
  
"Uh, Dean?" Gwen inquired when his grandson rejoined them.  
  
"There's a special bond between an angel and their vessel," Dean explained. "If I call to Mike then he can hear me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Padre Mancini, come sta? - Father Mancini, how are you?  
> Non si preoccupi, mi prenderò cura di lui - Don't worry, I'll take care of him.  
> Anche lei. Arrivederci, Padre Mancini - You too. Goodbye, Father Mancini.


	152. Chapter 151

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts on the first family dinner and the arrival of Michael and Raphael at the Campbell compound.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
Gwen couldn't help but subtly stare even as she helped Samuel clear up the dishes from dinner. Part of her was still in shock about what she'd learned earlier and that didn't help her redirect her attention any towards more constructive or appropriate tasks. Besides, she was already helping out, wasn't she?  
  
The problem was that it was all far too fascinating and Gwen just couldn't help herself. She'd always been a sucker for the more girly and romantic books and movies and this was far better than some fictional plot could ever be. Human sells soul to save brother and goes to Hell. Angel saves human from certain demonification. Human and angel work together to stop the Apocalypse and fall in love. If it wasn't all real and also full of pain, death and grief, she'd almost say that it was all too sugary sweet.  
  
"I can't believe that we finished all of that sushi," Samuel stated, cleaning away the cartons the food had been in. "There was so much of it!"  
  
Gwen laughed. "Come on, you've got two young guys here, you can't really be all that surprised."  
  
"Christian wasn't all that much older than Dean and he didn't eat nearly so much."  
  
"Christian also isn't as built. Dean probably works out far more and burns the excess energy that way."  
  
Despite that Gwen had to admit that she'd been surprised at just how much her cousin had packed away. Not that she could blame him or even point fingers as she'd eaten far more than normal herself. It had been impossible not to, though. After all, how often did she get the chance to have fresh sushi straight from Japan? And she still couldn't quite believe that Castiel had actually flown all the way around the world just to get them dinner.  
  
Apparently Bobby hadn't been trying to pull their legs when he'd said that Dean had been in France having breakfast just this morning. Gwen shook her head as she carried the stack of dishes to the kitchen. World travel, international take-out, new languages and Vatican cooperation, she wasn't sure how Dean could be so calm and blasé about it all. Many people would kill for those kinds of opportunities. She paused in loading the machine as she thought about that for a moment. From what she'd read, Dean hadn't been one of those people, so perhaps that had to do with how her cousin was handling things now?  
  
"Every last scrap, gone," Samuel muttered to himself as he flattened the boxes.  
  
Gwen chuckled. "Oh come on, didn't your mother ever despair over your seemingly bottomless pit growing up?"  
  
"I didn't eat  _that_  much."  
  
"I find that people tend to underestimate how much they actually eat."  
  
"Mary never ate that much."  
  
"Mary was a girl, so of course she didn't eat as much. Sam and Dean are guys and guys eat more than girls."  
  
"Don't worry," Bobby said, entering the kitchen. "Tonight was impressive, even for Dean."  
  
"Really?" Gwen questioned.  
  
"Oh, yeah."  
  
And to think that at first it hadn't even looked like Dean would like it given the face he'd pulled upon seeing what his angel had brought them. Gwen had to hand it to Castiel though, the angel had known exactly what her cousin would like, placing a specific box before him that Dean had scarfed down as soon as he'd had his first taste. The selection for the rest of them had been far more varied and exotic and they'd all found something they'd loved. Even Samuel who'd been the other one in their group not to be particularly thrilled with the idea of eating sushi.  
  
"I'd never have thought seaweed could taste so good," Samuel admitted.  
  
"This stuff came straight from the seaweed specialists," Bobby pointed out. "It doesn't taste nearly as good if you get the American stuff."  
  
"Instantaneous world travel, time travel, how the hell are we even supposed to fight Lucifer if Castiel can already do all of that?"  
  
Within an instant that question managed to completely change the atmosphere from stunned and somewhat light-hearted to sober and grim. It was a valid question though and one that Gwen had no answer to. Despite having grown up as a hunter, she was a rookie when it came to angels and almost all of her knowledge was purely academic rather than practical, not a particularly good position to be in. Angels and the Apocalypse were so far above her usual pay grade that it wasn't even funny and she'd tried not to think about it too much for precisely this very reason. It was far too easy to get overwhelmed by it all.  
  
It had made Gwen wonder how Sam, and now apparently Dean, could be so damn casual about it all. Was all of that purely down to how long they'd been dealing with all of this? She also knew that they hadn't had it all thrown at them at once like they had so it was a distinct possibility but somehow she just couldn't picture herself ever being that calm or level headed about dealing with  _the Apocalypse_.  
  
"Believe it or not but it's possible," Bobby finally stated. "Though only with a little divine intervention perhaps. And don't forget, this time we've not only got an angel on our side, but three, and all of them archangels no less."  
  
"There is that," Samuel admitted. "But do they actually have a plan?"  
  
"Not that I've been told."  
  
That right there was probably the most worrying part of it all for Gwen. She wasn't someone who needed to be in command or even the one making the big decisions- she actually rather preferred not to be, truth be told- but she did want there to be a plan. Just something that she could look at, think about and help improve if necessary. Something that let her know what she had to do when and how it fit into the grander scheme of things so that she knew that she'd done her part.  
  
"I can handle the rest here," Samuel said. "Why don't you two get back to the dining room before Sam is done getting changed?"  
  
"Good idea," Gwen agreed.  
  
Bobby muttered something under his breath as he followed and Gwen had to smile even if she didn't catch the actual words. She'd grown rather fond of the no-nonsense hunter and would forever cherish the memory of him telling Christian off. It had been long overdue even if she missed her cousin. Losing Christian like that so soon after Mark's death had been hard, but no one had forced Christian to go and she hoped that he might see reason and return though she considered it highly unlikely.  
  
At the threshold of the dining room, Gwen stopped short and Bobby only just managed to avoid walking into her. She would have apologized to him, but her eyes and attention were still glued to the two figures in the room. Although Dean and Castiel weren't kissing or anything else like that, there was still something remarkably intimate about the scene nonetheless and she practically felt like she was intruding by just seeing it.  
  
"Well I'll be damned," Bobby whispered.  
  
"What?" Gwen inquired, hardly able to hear herself.  
  
"That. Them."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"I never thought that I'd see Dean like that. Sure, I know that he was with Castiel, but this is the first time that I've seen them so... so..."  
  
"Intimate?"  
  
"Yeah, that."  
  


* * *

  
  
The first thing that Michael did upon arriving was to assess both his brother and his vessel to see how stressful things were. What he found reassured him for while neither was as relaxed as he would wish them to be, they weren't visibly worried or angry either.  
  
"Heya, Mike, Raph," Dean greeted. "Is everything ready?"  
  
"Yes," Michael replied. "We have cleared a space in the nearby woods in preparation for tonight's part of the spell."  
  
"Good. Sam's gone up to put on something more appropriate."  
  
"You are one of the cousins?" Raphael asked, glancing at the door to the room where the other two humans stood.  
  
"Yes," Castiel confirmed, stepping forward. "Michael, Raphael, meet Gwen Campbell and Bobby Singer. Gwen and Bobby, two of my older brothers."  
  
"A pleasure," Gwen stated though Michael could tell that she was a little unsure.  
  
"We've met," Bobby replied darkly.  
  
It was a sentiment that Michael could empathize with. The one and only time that he'd met the human- a close acquaintance of Dean's- prior to their meeting in the desert was during that fateful meeting with Lucifer in Stull Cemetery. Though he hadn't been there to witness it, Castiel had told him that Lucifer had killed the human when Singer had dared to shoot Lucifer in defense of Dean. A stupid endeavour, but one that he could respect now that he'd gotten to know his vessel properly. Human determination and what they'd do for those that they cared about- and Castiel was sure that the bond between Singer and Dean was as close to parental as it could be for those who weren't actually related- was something he could now admire even if part of him still saw it as foolhardy.  
  
"Okay, everything's taken care of in the kitchen. Where are we her- oh," Samuel said as he entered the room.  
  
"Samuel Campbell," Michael stated, turning his attention to the older human. "You are the one who was pulled from Heaven."  
  
"That's me."  
  
"And you have no desire to return there?"  
  
"And leave my grandsons to deal with this Apocalypse alone? Not a chance!"  
  
"But it is not a dislike of Heaven that makes you remain here?"  
  
"No, what I can remember was fine."  
  
"Why are you asking? He's going back there eventually, right?" Gwen questioned.  
  
"Unless he dramatically alters his lifestyle Samuel has nothing to worry about."  
  
"Why do you ask? About Heaven?" Samuel asked.  
  
"That would be my fault," Dean said. "Mike knows I couldn't stand Heaven."  
  
"Oh, right, your little trip up there."  
  
"You told them about that?" Raphael inquired, surprised.  
  
Dean snorted. "No, they read the books."  
  
"Books?" Michael asked, confused.  
  
"Chuck Shurley," Castiel explained. "The Winchester Gospels."  
  
"Ah, I see."  
  
"I need chocolate," Gwen stated. "Anyone else want some?"  
  
"I'll have some," Dean responded.  
  
"You'll always have some if it's desert, Little One," Michael commented, amused.  
  
"Hey!"  
  
"He is right," Castiel said.  
  
Dean scowled. "Like either of you can talk with your sweet tooths, teeth, whatever."  
  
"Shall I just bring out all of the chocolate?" Gwen offered.  
  
"I'm not so sure that's a good idea," Samuel stated. "Not if how fast the sushi went is any indication."  
  
"I was hungry!" Dean protested, soul sparking. "So sue me."  
  
Footsteps on the stairs preceded the appearance of Dean's brother and Michael tuned out the conversation around him to focus on Sam Winchester's soul. Gone was the worst of the taint left behind from Lucifer and the demon blood Winchester had, mostly voluntarily, ingested. That both events had transpired was still clearly visible and always would be as neither event was of the kind that could do anything other than leave a mark on the soul in question, but it shouldn't interfere with Raziel's spell anymore either, not like this anyway.  
  
The train of thought made Michael glance back at his own mark. Just like allowing Lucifer in had irrevocably left its mark on Sam's soul, so too had his first claiming of Dean on his vessel's soul. It was a mark he looked on with pride and no little satisfaction, but he never forgot what it had taken to earn that right or Dean's free will. It was probably the biggest difference between himself and Lucifer at present and why he was determined to win this fight. If for his human if for nothing else.  
  
"Michael, Raphael," Sam said emotionlessly as he studied them warily.  
  
It was a cautious and suspicious approach and one of which Michael approved. Perhaps Sam Winchester had finally learned his lesson. He hoped for Dean's sake that it was true as it was his precious hunter who would be hurt the most if Winchester damned himself forever.  
  
"Are you ready to begin, Sam Winchester?" Raphael demanded, giving the hunter a penetrating stare and Michael had to hide his amusement.  
  
Castiel had told the both of them how that type of behavior made humans uncomfortable so for Raphael to be using it now like this had to be deliberate.  
  
" _Raphael,_ " Michael admonished halfheartedly.  
  
" _Dean may not be able to express his displeasure with his brother at present, but there is no reason for us not to do it for him,_ " Raphael replied. " _Let me take him to the forest._ "  
  
Dean wouldn't approve, at least not verbally, but Michael had slowly come to learn that sometimes one had to simply do certain things for the hunter as Dean would never be able to ask for them himself.  
  
"I'm ready if you are," Sam replied, voice not nearly as confident as Michael was that sure the boy had wanted for it to be.  
  
"Good, let us go then," Raphael stated, stepping closer to Sam, more than invading his personal space.  
  
Michael saw Dean frown and he wondered if his vessel would protest but then Dean merely turned to face his cousin.  
  
"Gwen," Dean said, holding out his hand.  
  
"What's it like, angel flight?" Gwen inquired, stepping closer so that Castiel could take them both.  
  
"For us? Instantaneous and, if it's an archangel, completely flawless."  
  
As Castiel took off with Dean and Gwen, Michael turned to face his vessel's grandfather and father figure. "Samuel, Bobby, I shall take you if you will permit me."  
  
"If you must," Bobby replied with no little reluctance.  
  
With a final glance at Raphael, Michael stretched his wings and flew, being extra careful of his precious passengers. Though he may not understand the type of bond that allowed a human to see another as a parental figure when there was no familial connection, he was not going to upset Dean by not respecting it. His human had more than enough to worry about at present for him to needlessly aggravate the situation. Besides, he found himself strangely desirous of making a good impression on both humans he now carried, it was quite odd.  
  
Because Raphael had taken off slightly after him, Michael was able to watch his brother's landing and thus caught the way that Sam Winchester stumbled and looked ready to be physically ill. The moment his brother's vessel had overcome the need to be sick, Winchester sent a dark glare at Raphael.  
  
"Completely flawless my ass!" Sam growled, still somewhat unsteady on his feet.  
  
"Oops, my bad," Raphael replied, his expression one of total innocence.  
  
Dean threw Raphael a knowing look but didn't say anything and Michael could detect a hint of amusement and affection in the way his vessel's soul reacted and it made him smile. Unexpectedly, Castiel and Dean's bonding had affected how easily  _he_  could read his human. Perhaps it was that their bonding simply enhanced all aspects of Dean or perhaps it was that the additional Grace strengthened their own bond as well as that between Dean and Castiel, but either way he was finding it easier to read his precious vessel and he liked that. It made him feel even closer to his new bond brother and made the instinctual need to claim Dean lessen and thus become easier to ignore. The strength of their bond more than spoke for itself and he had absolutely no desire to come between that even if some instinctual part of him still felt the need to possess such a precious soul.  
  
Without meaning to, Michael had reached out to touch their connection and it wasn't until Dean's focus suddenly shifted to him- clearly startled- that he realized what he'd done. Once he did, surprise and shock blossomed within him. That his vessel had felt that was unheard of. While not actively a vessel, Dean should not be able to feel their connection. No, only the angel should be constantly aware of the bond with his vessel. Given the number of other angelic traits that his hunter had already displayed this one really shouldn't shock him as much as it did, but he couldn't help it. Not without knowing just what it was that it all meant.  
  
" _Sorry,_ " Michael tried, testing just how far his vessel's awareness of their bond went.  
  
From the way that Dean blinked, Michael knew that his hunter had heard it even before the tentative " _Mike?_ " came back across the bond to him.  
  
" _Later,_ " Michael replied, including Castiel in the response as he'd noticed the way his brother had turned to focus sharply on his bond mate, clearly sensing that something unexpected had taken place.  
  
"I could take care of it," Raphael was offering Sam Winchester when Michael turned his attention back to the others, noticing the odd glance he got from Bobby Singer.  
  
The man was clearly not someone to be underestimated as Singer paid attention to his surroundings and knew that something was going on between the three of them. Whether that was just because the hunter was always like that or because this particular incident involved Dean, Michael didn't know for sure, but he approved of it either way.  
  
"Don't you dare touch me again!" Sam exclaimed, backing away rapidly.  
  
"Suit yourself," Raphael replied with an odd movement of his shoulders.  
  
It took Michael a moment to ascertain that his brother was attempting to replicate the shrugging motion that Dean often made in similar circumstances. He wondered if the humans would figure that out or merely chalk it up to strange angelic behavior. He strongly suspected that it would be the latter even for Singer and Winchester who would be most familiar with Dean's own mannerisms.  
  
"This isn't everything," Bobby stated from where he'd gone to inspect the ingredients that he and Raphael had laid out.  
  
"No," Michael confirmed. "We thought it best to only bring that which was necessary today. Some of the ingredients are rather difficult to obtain and we did not wish to risk them until they were required."  
  
"Okay, let's do this," Dean said, moving forward. "Samuel, Bobby, would you mind giving Cas a hand preparing the libation and the incense mixture needed to purify the air? Sam, step into the middle of the clearing, you'll need to kneel there while Gwen and I create the necessary sigils on the ground around you in salt and iron shavings."  
  
Michael moved to stand next to Raphael as he watched his hunter take charge of the situation and got everyone involved. They didn't really need so many people present, but Dean had felt it best if they were all given a role. His vessel was right that it would start to give them a feel for how everyone interacted and how willing they were to listen to them. As a result he and Raphael would not need to do anything until everything was ready as this part of Raziel's spell required two archangels and Castiel had not yet learned what it was that they needed to perform here today.  
  
"Nice imitation of human behavior, Brother," Michael said with no little sense of irony.  
  
"Thank you," Raphael replied.  
  
The words threw Michael for a moment and he glanced over at his brother to see if Raphael was being serious. Oddly enough he ascertained that yes, his brother was. It took him a few seconds to work out that he'd just utilized that sarcasm Dean was so fond of and which he had never quite understood before. Needlessly to say, without the human experience that he'd had, Raphael had absolutely no point of reference for what he'd just done and had therefore had taken his words at face value as he had so often done in the past with Dean's words.  
  
Huh, apparently his precious human was rubbing off on him. How unexpected, though the thought warmed Michael in an unfamiliar way.


	153. Chapter 152

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam doesn't trust any of Dean's three archangels.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
It was with a growing sense of disconnect and trepidation that Sam watched his brother pour rock salt onto the ground, slowly creating an intricate pattern all around him. It was mesmerizing in a way, the way the stark white sigil appeared in sharp contrast to the dark soil, almost like chalk on pavement. Bizarrely, for one ephemeral moment, he could see Dean as he had once been as a child, crouched over the worn tarmac of a local basketball court, diligently drawing an equally complex protection charm around him so that he'd be safe within it while Dad and Dean summoned the spirit haunting the local YMCA center.  
  
The memory hit Sam hard, far harder than he'd ever have expected it to. Despite how much he'd hated his life growing up, now he was filled with nothing but nostalgia for the time long since past. Or no, it was more that he felt nostalgic for the memory of his brother as Dean had been back then. No, how  _they_  had been back then. Oh sure, superficially it seemed like nothing had changed, but that deception was merely skin deep as it were. While his big brother was still drawing protection sigils around him, everything else had changed.  
  
 _Radically_.  
  
Sam swallowed hard as he tried to take in just how radically it might be. From the moment that he'd first peered into Lisa Braeden's home and had seen another man all but snuggling up with her he'd known, deep down, that things had changed. He'd just never had any idea of exactly how drastically that was true. In fact each meeting with Dean since then had been part of a slow revelation, all leading him towards one horrific and terrifying conclusion that he'd tried his damnest to avoid having to face. He snorted, it was ironic in a way that he'd turned towards such a Dean-like coping method instead of his own more head-on approach of dealing with problems, no matter how distasteful they might be. He'd just never seen the point in delaying the inevitable or refusing to admit to it.  
  
Dean had changed.  
  
It was only marginally becoming easier for Sam to say the words silently to himself and not without having to stave off a panic attack. His brother had changed, and not just in small, insignificant ways either. In fact the sheer magnitude of the alterations was some of what worried him the most. Sure, he could see how people could change in small ways during the course of a year, but not such major ones, not Dean, at least not naturally.  
  
It was this last which worried Sam the most. Not only because the vast majority of the supernatural was evil or wrong, but also because  _Dean just didn't seem to see it_. That bugged him greatly. Dean had often been the more intuitive of them when it came to sensing what was and wasn't normal or human, as the case may be. It was a trait that had always driven him nuts as  _he'd_  been the one to spend his time and energy pouring over books of creatures and lore, so for his brother to do what he studied hard for naturally and made it look so effortless, well it had always annoyed him greatly. All of which made his brother's inability to either notice or care that he had been supernaturally influenced huge. So huge that even he himself still shied away from fully confronting the thought though he tried his damnest to right now. He refused, however, to let his cowardice put him off from doing so any longer.  
  
Was Dean even still fully human?  
  
Sam gritted his teeth and clenched his fists as his mind plunged straight for the worst possible scenario now that he allowed it to ponder the issue. He wanted to dismiss the thought right out of hand, he really wanted to, but he wasn't going to let emotion get the best of him. No, he was the brother who stopped to think things through instead of barging straight in, halfcocked, guns blazing and shooting first before  _maybe_  asking questions later. Luckily for him logic backed his instinctual urge. Despite all else that he was currently thinking about Castiel and his douche brothers, he knew that as angels they would immediately know if something had happened to Dean that no longer made him fully human. And, what was more, he knew that they had a vested interest in keeping his brother human. Ergo, Dean still had to be human.  
  
First hurdle overcome satisfactorily, Sam took a deep breath, relaxing slightly. Dean had moved out of his line of sight by now, shifting to complete the salt sigil behind him, but Gwen had come into view. She was drawing an equally complex sigil, but she had to stop every now and then to consult the paper that Dean had given her. Also, instead of using salt, she had the iron shavings. The gray on black wasn't nearly as striking as the white on black, but altogether they formed an almost beautiful design. Or did he merely find it thus because he knew what its intended purpose was and that it would help him? He wasn't entirely sure.  
  
The thought only held Sam's interest for so long before his mind shifted back to the question he'd been pondering before it. Merely determining that his brother was still fully human was only part of an answer unfortunately. There were still many possible causes of the changes in Dean, none of them particularly pleasant. The worst thing was that the most likely causes involved the three archangels currently in the clearing with them. His eyes moved first to glance at Castiel where the angel stood mixing together the libation with Bobby's help while Samuel worked on what looked like the incense needed for tonight's ritual. He hated to think that Castiel could be involved as he'd come to think of the angel as a friend as well as an ally, but he'd learned the hard way that appearances could be deceiving when it came to the supernatural, especially with those who claimed to be working with them.  
  
Besides, Castiel had always had an unhealthy interest in Dean and Sam just couldn't help but wonder if the angel had done anything to get his brother into bed. It was an ugly thought but one that had been circling around in the back of his mind ever since Becky had first mentioned Destiel to them. Sure, Dean claimed to always have been bisexual, but he just wasn't certain that he bought that. Surely he would have seen  _something_  at some point along the way if that were true. It wasn't like he was unobservant or anything. Sure, looking back on things now Dean had mentioned some gender neutral names, but did that mean that they'd been guys or was that merely wishful thinking on his part?  
  
If his fears were true then Sam knew that Castiel wouldn't have had any qualms about doing other things to change Dean as the angel saw fit to. After all, after something like that, then what was a little more? And there were many ways to achieve smaller changes in people from basic personality traits right down to how they saw things or reacted to common situations. The sheer length of the list of options almost exhausted him as without some clue as to what had been done, he'd have to try and counter each and every one of them. All of which assumed that it had been Castiel who was responsible for the unnatural changes in his brother.  
  
Unfortunately for Sam, that wasn't even a given. He turned his head slightly to look at the two other archangels standing off to one side of the clearing, speaking quietly with each other and watching the rest of them. Although he had never met Raphael before that fateful meeting in the desert, he had met Michael before and his eyes narrowed as he recalled that particular meeting as well as Dean's account of his own first meeting with the archangel. Sure, technically he owed Michael his life from when Anna had fatally injured him, but he knew that the archangel hadn't done that for him, but rather as a means with which to manipulate Dean as well as to ensure that Lucifer had his proper vessel for their desired showdown.  
  
Even that much of a reminder of the devil was too much and Sam shuddered as he recalled it involuntarily. How could his brother stand to voluntarily being that close to Michael? Having had Lucifer in his meat suit,  _touching_ his very soul, there were simply no words to describe it, absolutely none. It made his experience in Hell itself seem like nothing in comparison. The sheer  _Evil_  and malice that made up the fallen archangel were incomprehensible and it was a wonder to him that Lucifer had ever been anything other than the devil. To think that Lucifer had once been considered the best of all of the angels, well he couldn't believe it. The lore on angels had gotten so much else wrong, he was sure that this was merely just another example of that.  
  
So, yeah, his faith had been shattered in a way that Sam was pretty sure that it would never recover from. True, it had already been on shaky ground before he'd experienced Lucifer so intimately, but it hadn't been broken, at least not yet. So for anyone to try and say that being a vessel could be anything else than horrific, much less a wondrous or fantastic experience, was ridiculous and yet that was exactly what Becky had claimed it was for Dean.  
  
Sam turned his head slightly so that he could watch his brother some more. He'd tried to see what Bobby had said that it was that he did in regards to Dean, but he just couldn't see it. Sure, the others were all saying that he was wrong about his brother, but how arrogant was that of a statement? Dean was  _his_  brother, not theirs.  _He_  was the one who'd spent years with Dean, growing up with Dean, not them. Even Bobby didn't have nearly the amount of experience that he did with his brother, so how could they possibly claim to know Dean better than him? They couldn't, it was as simple as that.  
  
The close observation had allowed him to see all of the subtle interactions that had taken place between his brother and two older archangels and Sam hadn't liked what he'd seen. Not at all. Although their interaction back in the compound hadn't been too bad, what he'd seen here after he'd recovered from the flight from hell (which he was  _positive_  had been done deliberately, the bastard) had been enough to set off all of his alarm bells. Something had passed between Dean and Michael, he was absolutely sure of it. He might have missed his brother's initial reaction to the stunt that Raphael had pulled on him, but he'd caught Michael's amusement before the archangel had turned all of his attention towards Dean.  
  
He still wasn't quite sure how to describe what he'd seen next, but Sam didn't like it in the least. It was almost as if his brother had reacted to some unknown stimulus and when it involved the supernatural that just never boded well for them. The fact that Castiel had also appeared to notice that something was going on and hadn't done anything about it merely served to confirm his fears that his former friend wasn't entirely on the level anymore and couldn't be fully trusted. The problem with that was getting Dean to see it. He knew enough about his brother to know that once Dean let someone in, let alone as thoroughly as his brother appeared to have done with the angel, it all but required an act of God to get Dean to turn against them and he somehow doubted Castiel would be so stupid as to provide him with that kind of opportunity. At least not until it was far too late.  
  
Combined with Raphael's attitude towards him, Sam really didn't want to let any of the three archangels anywhere near him, unfortunately he didn't exactly have a choice in the matter so he gritted his teeth instead. In the past he might have said a quick prayer but now he knew better than to do so. Even if none of the archangels present overheard it he now knew better than to think that anyone who actually cared or even gave a damn heard it. Despite all of that he made sure to keep a close eye on the two, Raphael in particular. Just because he had to accept the situation didn't mean that he had to let his guard down.  
  
The moment that Michael and Raphael stepped forwards and started chanting, Sam felt the hair on his arms and the back of his neck rise on end. The air was starting to fairly crackle with power and he had a bad moment when he was hit with a memory of what it had felt like when Lucifer had first allowed his full power to flow through him. He cringed at the thought of all of that taint and darkness touching his soul but managed to resign himself. The absolute last thing that he wanted was for this spell not to work and for him to thereby still be open to being taken by Lucifer at any point. The thought that he was only a few sigils away from being the devil's vessel once more right now was horrible enough for him, let alone the thought of remaining so permanently. No, with the Winchester luck Lucifer would find him sooner rather than later if that happened.  
  
Things went quickly from there and Sam found it harder and harder to concentrate. Between the need to fight off the memories that threatened to rush in and overwhelm him, the heady smell of the thick incense that clouded the air and power that was rising up all around him, he wasn't able to focus on anything else but his own meat suit and what felt like a slowly building pressure deep within him. It grew and grew and grew even as everything else reached a crescendo all around him.  
  
Sam had the chance to wonder if Michael and Raphael really intended to kill him and make it look like a botched spell work before darkness rose up all around him and swallowed him whole.  
  


* * *

  
  
"The smurfs have the dragon's eggs!" Sam wailed desperately, looking around frantically for the others.  
  
Where on Earth had everyone else gotten to? He could have sworn that they were here just a moment ago. They'd followed him out of the canyon and into the tropical rainforest and he was sure that they'd all been with him in Bobby's panic room the next instant. He  _knew_  that he'd not come in through the door by himself. No, they'd been right there beside him. Just over th-  
  
Sam frowned as he turned around to look and found only an empty corner. What was more, the door through which he'd entered seemed to have vanished and was nothing more than a blank wall now with an equally empty cot shoved up against it. A pair of cuffs dangled from one end of the cot and he had a flash of putting them there when they'd needed to secure Dean to the cot and keep him from trying to run off to find Michael once more. He felt a flare of panic at the thought. Where was Dean? Where had his brother gotten to? Had he gotten out, managed to free himself from the cuffs?  
  
The thought sent Sam into a panic and the next thing he knew he was upstairs in the main room of Bobby's house. "Bobby?" he called out, frantic. "Bobby! Dean's gone, I think he's gone to try and find Michael again. We need to find him and stop him! Bobby? Bobby!"  
  
He ran through every room in the house trying to find the older hunter but there was no sign of Bobby. Sam tried to steady his racing heart and calm his breathing before he began to hyperventilate, but it didn't seem to be working. He had to find his brother! He had to find Dean before he gave himself to Michael. If his brother did, then all would be lost. This was  _Michael_  they were talking about here, the one who'd orchestrated this whole damn Apocalypse to begin with and who must have ensured that Dean stayed in Hell long enough to break before being rescued. The one who'd come down on his own brother like a hellhound on its prey without so much as trying to lift a hand to  _help_.  
  
The one who'd coldly betrayed a supposedly beloved little brother because it was what was required of him.  
  
The panic rose within Sam and he rushed towards the stairs. If Bobby wasn't here to help him, then he'd just have to find Dean on his own. No way was he leaving his brother to the archangel's nonexistent mercies. Just what the hell was Dean thinking anyway, trusting that bastard? As if Michael would honor any deal that his brother tried to make with him before saying yes. The no good, lying, backstabbing bastard would probably take great pleasure in doing exactly the opposite of all that he'd told Dean that he would and make his brother watch as it was done, with his own hands no less.  
  
The world had been starting to spin around him for so long that Sam hardly even noticed it anymore until it suddenly sped up right as he was dashing down the stairs and the next thing he knew, he was falling. Falling, falling, falling, head over heels, seeing floor, then ceiling, then floor, then ceiling-  
  
Sam woke with start, hands splayed wide on the bed and braced just as he would have hit the floor in his dream. His breath was coming hard and fast while his heart pounded madly in his chest as he tried to work out what was happening to him and where he was. He stared dully at the ceiling for a few long moments before realizing that he was in his bed at the Campbell compound. With that everything else slowly started to return to him and he sat up with a start as he recalled the ritual in the clearing last night. At least he assumed that it was last night. He didn't think that he'd been out all that long, but the angle at which the sun was entering his room told a different story. It definitely wasn't morning anymore, that was for sure.  
  
It was as he was assessing himself for any changes that Sam noticed  _it_  and he froze in disbelief. There, standing on the nightstand beside his bed was a mug of what smelled suspiciously like tomato rice soup. He felt a strange quivering deep inside of him as he realized that, yes, it was actually there and he wasn't just imagining things.  
  
 _Dean_.  
  
His brother had been in here with him. Sam's head whipped around to scan the room and, sure enough, he found a chair with a blanket pulled up close to his bed. He wasn't quite sure what to make of it. Part of him just seemed to want to melt at this sign that Dean-  _his Dean_ \- was still in there somewhere despite what the archangels had done to his brother, but another part of him was wary of why exactly Dean wasn't in here with him now. The brother he'd known would never have left him alone, not until he'd woken and Dean could be sure that he was fine. Even after that it had often been a struggle to get his brother to leave him alone long enough to get some peace and quiet so that he could actually recover.  
  
A single touch to the blanket told Sam that whatever had happened was recent as there was still some residual body heat warming the fabric. He grabbed the knife that he'd started keeping under his pillow before he got to his feet and padded softly towards the door to his room. There was a sense of dread within him and he wasn't sure if that was due to the lingering remnants of the rapidly fading nightmare or because of something else, but he wasn't going to take any chances. He opened the door slowly and peered out.  
  
What Sam saw caused his heart to stop in his chest for a moment, dread and disbelief choking it off. There, just a bit further down the hall, stood Dean and Michael, close enough that if he didn't know any better he'd think that they were involved instead of Dean and Castiel. What was more, Michael had a hand up, cupping his brother's face almost tenderly.  
  
The rush of emotions that crashed through Sam at the sight was far too tumultuous for him to pick apart or even try to analyze at the moment but it left him furious, terrified and horrified all at once. Almost as if sensing his presence, Michael turned to look his way and his brother copied the movement, smiling slightly when Dean caught sight of him. The moment was ruined though when Michael's hand shifted to touch his brother's shoulder lightly as the archangel said something to Dean, voice far too soft for him to be able to overhear it. Whatever it was, Dean nodded once and gave the archangel a bigger smile before Michael was just suddenly gone.  
  
Dean acted as if nothing unusual had just transpired and started walking back towards him. "Finally awake I see," Dean said, glancing him over.  
  
"What the hell was that?" Sam demanded harshly, exploding forwards in a rush of agitated movement.  
  
"Huh? What was what?"  
  
" _That_! Him touching your face like that, like he has any right to?"  
  
"Sam, calm down, Mike's just always been like that. It's harmless."  
  
"Harmless, yeah right. You really can't see it, can you?"  
  
Dean actually had the gall to frown at him for that and Sam damn near saw red. It took all of the willpower that he had not to grab his brother and try to shake some sense into his thick skull even though he knew it probably wouldn't work. Why couldn't Dean just see how wrong all of this was?  
  
"Look, I know that this is hard for you, Sam, but you need to realize that Mike and Raph really are on our side here."  
  
"No, I really don't. Can't you see what they're doing here? They've got you so wrapped up around their little fingers and Castiel that you can't see straight anymore. Did you even notice that stunt Raphael pulled yesterday?"  
  
"Stunt? What, you mean the fact that he didn't properly cushion you during the flight to the forest? Come on, Sam, that's hardly a stunt, just a harmless little prank."  
  
"There, see, that's exactly what I'm talking about! That's an  _archangel_  you're talking about, Dean, not some estranged brother who you've gotten to know. Heaven's most terrifying weapons and all that, remember? They don't do pranks, just destruction and chaos."  
  
"Maybe that's how you see it and I'm sorry for what you went through with Lucifer, but you need to remember that you chose to do that. Hell, you practically begged me to let you do it! So don't go painting all the rest of them with the same brush just because of your bad experience with one of them. Raph was just poking fun like-"  
  
"What? A brother would? Give me a break! Are you even hearing yourself?"  
  
"Are you?"  
  
"What's going on here?" Bobby demanded, appearing at the end of the hall.  
  
"Dean's being too stubborn to see reason," Sam explained calmly.  
  
"Whatever," Dean retorted. "I'm out of here."  
  
Sam stared at his brother in disbelief as Dean actually turned around and walked away. "Yeah, that's right, just run away like you always do!"


	154. Chapter 153

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean copes with the fallout of his argument with Sam with a little help from his husband.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
Sam's parting words made Dean see red and the urge to turn around and just deck his brother rose within him but instead he gritted his teeth and ignored it, storming off as he'd intended to before his brother had uttered them. He resolutely walked right past Bobby, thundering down the stairs and walking out the front door straight past his grandfather and Gwen, not so much as acknowledging their questions or worried looks. Sam had raised his voice enough for them to know exactly what was going on and he had absolutely no desire to talk to any of them right now. He just couldn't deal with them as well as all of the pain, anger and betrayal he felt ripping through him.  
  
Apparently his brother could still hurt him better than he thought Sam could.  
  
The revelation wasn't a pleasant one and Dean made a beeline for the Impala and gunned her engine as soon as he was inside his baby, tearing away from the Campbell compound in a spray of gravel and rock salt. How was it that Sam just managed to worm his way right past most of his defenses and tear him apart from the inside out? He  _knew_  that his brother wouldn't like everything that had happened in the past year and yet Sam's words still cut him in a way he hadn't expected or imagined possible anymore.  
  
There was a flutter of wings and then Castiel was in the passenger seat beside him. Dean didn't even need to look over to know that it was his husband, he just knew because of the bond. He kept his eyes looking straight ahead, not wanting to look at his angel in rage even if it wasn't directed at Castiel. It was stupid but he just didn't want to do it. Instead he clenched his hands even tighter around the wheel and sped on at nearly twice the speed limit.  
  
Any doubts that Dean'd had about Castiel understanding his mood instantly vanished when, instead of trying to talk to him or feel hurt by his lack of acknowledgement of his husband's presence, his angel merely brought one set of wings up through his seat to gently cradle his back, offering silent support. In addition, the only thing to come across their bond was love and comfort. Just beyond that he could sense his husband's own anger and desire to hold him, but it was being held at bay and for that he was extremely grateful. That his angel would physically comfort him was never in doubt, but he really felt that he needed to work through this anger on his own first as he didn't want it to fester and taint their interaction, not that it could cause any damage, but dammit he just didn't want to look at the one being who meant more to him than anyone else with that kind of emotion.  
  
His arms were shaking, Dean suddenly realized. Whether it was because of his anger or the hurt, he wasn't sure, but it was definitely there and he refused to let his mind simply gloss over that fact. It didn't really matter which of the two emotions was responsible for it just that both could be, or it could even be a combination of the two. But it was one of those three options and all of them were Sam's fault.  
  
Dean gritted his teeth and clenched the steering wheel hard enough to bruise. Sure, he'd known that coming here would be no cakewalk and that there'd be rough patches, especially with his brother, he just hadn't been adequately prepared for the emotional punch and fallout of the situation. He'd gotten spoiled spending so long with just his three archangels where the worst that had happened in a long time were minor arguments that were more like squabbles than anything else. Yeah, he and Raphael'd had their share of more heated arguments, but that had been before they'd become friends so that extra emotional punch simply hadn't been there. With Sam however...  
  
With Sam it was different, always had been and always would be Dean now realized. Sure, he could learn to live without his brother and even be happy, exquisitely so in point of fact, but in the end Sam would always be able to wound him like no one else could. Well, not like  _no one else_  could, but rather than like anyone else ever would because the only other people capable of hurting him worse than his brother simply never would.  
  
Of that Dean had absolutely no doubts.  
  
The thought helped to calm Dean a little and he tried to look at what had happened a little more objectively. Truth be told, he'd been struggling ever since he'd first laid eyes on his brother in the hallway upstairs where they'd had their blowout just now. Sam had appeared so unexpectedly, clearly just out of bed, disheveled and sleep mused like he'd seen his brother a million times over the years and looking so much like the little boy that Sam had once been that it had blindsided him a little. It had allowed Sam to slip in under his guard, though that wouldn't have been all that difficult regardless because even though he was now aware of how Sam had always treated him, there was still that instinctual desire to allow his brother close. He'd just have to redouble his efforts in that area clearly.  
  
That and he would also have to ensure that he took some time either to himself or to spend with one of his archangels. Dean knew that any of them would be able to help him relax and wind down, though to distinctly different degrees, of course. The thought was soothing and he felt himself relax a little and considered himself merely angry now instead of the enraged or furious from earlier. It was better but he was still a long way from where he wanted to be. Because of that he didn't look over when Castiel moved beside him. He didn't need to though to be able to tell what his husband was doing, not with the distinctive sound of his box of cassette tapes being picked up and sorted through. His curiosity was peaked and he frowned a little as he tried to figure out what his angel was up to.  
  
The moment that Castiel had found the tape he sought and carefully (Dean saw it out of the corner of his eyes) inserted it into the player, he couldn't help but laugh as the familiar music began to blare through the speakers. It was the tape that he always listened to when pissed off but hadn't thought to put on now. Blindly he reached out and captured his husband's hand, intertwining their fingers and resting them on the seat between them as the Impala faithfully continued to eat up the miles.  
  
Between the soothing and familiar rhythm of his childhood and the loving support of his husband, Dean's anger slowly began to fade and as it died down, so did his need for speed. Over the course of the next fifty or so miles, he slowed the Impala further and further until they were actually going well below the speed limit, so he steered his baby over to the side of the road before he actually got pulled over for holding up traffic. There he killed the engine before he finally turned to face his husband.  
  
"Thanks, Cas," Dean said gratefully, allowing himself to be pulled close for the embrace that his angel could no longer resist giving him.  
  
"I can take you back home if you want," Castiel offered. "You do not need to stay with them, the spell will not be adversely affected if you leave between sessions."  
  
"No, thanks, really, but I still think that it's best for me to remain with them for the duration of the spell. It's only Sam that's the problem, things are actually going really well with all of the others."  
  
"Bobby and Samuel genuinely care for you and your cousin seems to be open to giving you a fair chance."  
  
"Yeah, Gwen's been cool so far though she seems to have a hidden propensity for chick flick moments if her taste in movies is anything to go by."  
  
"Is this not to be expected given that she is in fact a... chick?"  
  
Dean snorted before he gave in and laughed, knowing that his husband wouldn't mind. He just loved it when Castiel attempted to use slang as it never quite worked out right and was always guaranteed to make him smile at the very least. Now that he thought about it for a moment, he couldn't help but wonder if that wasn't exactly why his angel never got any better at it unlike how he did with most other things he wasn't so good at.  
  
"Am I wrong?" Castiel inquired patiently, rubbing a soothing hand up and down his back.  
  
"No, you're probably onto something actually. I just saw her as a hunter first and didn't stop to think of her as a chick. Which is kinda sad really. You've obviously got me whipped as, family or no, there's no way I'd have missed that fact before."  
  
A confused head tilt. "Whipped?"  
  
"It's generally used to mean a guy who's been tamed of his wild ways by a woman. Whipped into shape as it were."  
  
"Ah, I see. Well in that case it is true, I do have you whipped."  
  
"Hey!" Dean mock protested, poking his bond mate in the ribs. "You do realize that makes you the chick in this scenario, right?"  
  
Castiel merely shrugged as if it were no big deal and Dean supposed that for his angel it really wasn't. When your gender was almost exclusively determined by your vessel, it couldn't really be all that important, especially without all of the human connotations that went with it all. He couldn't help but wonder if things would have gone differently between them if Jimmy had been born Jamie. Would he have realized his attraction to his husband sooner? Most probably though he'd almost certainly have viewed it as purely sexual at first which could have ruined everything if he'd acted on the impulse too soon and he shuddered at the thought.  
  
"Dean?"  
  
"'s nothing, just a random thought I had. You know how my mind works."  
  
"Mm, not nearly as well as I would like to know it."  
  
Dean frowned. "What you implying?"  
  
"That it will take far more time than I've had to fully understand everything that goes on in your head. Every time I think I know you, you do something to prove me wrong."  
  
"But that's a good thing, right? I mean you wouldn't want any boring, easily understood and predictable human, now would you?"  
  
"I don't want any other human, regardless of their mental faculties or other attributes and capabilities."  
  
And there Castiel went again with the unabashed emotional bombs. How easily his husband always managed to say them would never cease to amaze Dean even if they no longer surprised him or made him want to squirm until the earth opened up and swallowed him whole, though he doubted that he'd ever lose the tendency to duck his head when they were delivered. Now though he could raise his head, meet those blue eyes and smile at his angel, acknowledging that he knew they were nothing but the pure, absolute truth on Castiel's part.  
  
"Love you," Dean said, still thrilled at how easily those words were coming to him these days.  
  
It figured that they would, though, now that he didn't really have such a need for them anymore, not with the existence of the bond. At least Dean didn't need them in order to convey the sentiment and emotion to his husband, but he knew how much Castiel loved to hear him say them regardless. He wouldn't be surprised if the reason for that was precisely because his angel knew what it meant for him to speak them aloud.  
  
In response, Dean was pulled close once more and he went easily, curling into it and tucking his head beneath his husband's chin.  
  
"And I you," Castiel replied softly, cocooning them in his wings.  
  
Dean wasn't quite sure how long they stayed like that, wrapped around each other in the front seat of the Impala along some unknown highway, but he didn't care either. He could easily stay like this forever.  
  
"Do you recall that ice cream I brought you a few months ago that you enjoyed so much?" Castiel eventually asked.  
  
"That really good stuff? Yeah, of course. Why?"  
  
"I got it from a place not too far from here. I don't suppose that you're interested in getting any now?"  
  
"Dude, why didn't you mention we were close to there before?"  
  
"Because we were not particularly close to it then."  
  
At those words Dean sat up and looked at his baby's odometer before he glanced out at the road signs further down the road. Oh, apparently it had taken him longer to calm down than he'd thought. Well either that or he'd been going even faster than he'd thought that he was as they really were quite a ways from the Campbell compound.  
  
Oops. "Sorry about that," Dean apologized, sheepishly.  
  
"You have nothing to apologize for, I chose to be here with you."  
  
"And I appreciate it, it was a big help. So, how do we get to the ice cream?"  
  


* * *

  
  
By the time that they'd arrived at the park near which the ice cream parlor was located, Dean's dark mood was a thing of the past and he'd changed the tape and was singing along with Zep, much to his husband's delight if the way Castiel had been looking at him was any indication. The lack of proper parking had prompted him to pull over along a little-used road deeper into the park and he'd stayed with his baby while his angel went out to get the ice cream. He'd already spotted a handy bench on which they could eat it when Castiel returned and the fact that it was located near a children's playground was not lost on him. It would be fitting and he was sure his husband would appreciate the significance of it as well. It seemed like much longer than a few short years since they'd sat together in another park, watching children play as they had their first real conversation.  
  
Dean was taking advantage of the wait to clean the dirty back window when it happened. He'd probably been paying less attention to his surroundings than he should have been due to the relaxed nature of the stop and so he hadn't even been aware that he'd caught someone's attention until they'd already approached him, not a good thing for a hunter in general, but especially not for him given all that he was dealing with at the moment.  
  
"Dean?"  
  
The voice was incredulous- as if the speaker couldn't quite believe it himself- but still instantly recognizable for all of that and Dean froze in shock. No, it couldn't be, could it? But what was  _he_  doing  _here_  of all places? They were hundreds of miles from Indiana!  
  
"Ben?"


	155. Chapter 154

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean reconnects with Ben and meets Lisa's new boyfriend.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
When Dean turned around it was to find that yes, he'd in fact been correct, not that he'd ever really doubted it.  
  
"Dean!" Ben cried out and lunged for him.  
  
Small though Ben still was when compared to him, Dean still grunted with the force of the impact and how tightly he was grasped. Even with his shock he brought up his own arms to hug the boy. He'd never quite allowed himself to dwell on it too much due to all of the bad memories associated with that time, but he really had missed Ben and it was good to see him again. Even if Ben's being here made very little sense to him.  
  
"Not to be rude or anything, but, dude, what are you doing here?" Dean asked when Ben finally released him enough to step back a little.  
  
The fact that Ben was clearly so glad to see him and was reluctant to let him go despite the whole 'too big for that' phase the boy had just started going through when he'd left touched him and he gave him a huge smile. Despite that quite a bit of his good mood from earlier was gone as he knew that where Ben was, Lisa wasn't likely to be far behind. Quite understandably, she had a bit of a problem with letting Ben too far out of her sight since the whole changeling fiasco. It had already been leading to quite a bit of friction between mother and son and that was before Ben had even properly hit puberty.  
  
"Milton's from this area," Ben replied with a roll of his eyes.  
  
Dean's eyebrows rose in disbelief. "Milton?"  
  
"Yeah, I know, right? What a douche name, but it fits as he's the world's biggest douche. Seriously."  
  
"And just who is Milton?"  
  
"Oh, right, you wouldn't know," Ben said uncomfortably, looking away and fidgeting. "He's Mom's boyfriend."  
  
The words made Dean flinch before he could stop himself. He didn't know why they hurt, just that they did. It wasn't like he hadn't found someone else, so really why shouldn't Lisa have? Especially since he had absolutely no desire whatsoever to get back together with her, or anyone else for that matter. Castiel was the one for him, no ifs, buts or ands about it. So, if anything, he should be glad that she'd found someone herself, he did want her to be happy.  
  
There were times when, more emotionally stable or not, Dean did curse his greater self-awareness these days. It was true that overall it tended to make him more happy and content as it allowed him to go after what he really wanted instead if just what he felt he deserved, but sometimes (like now) it made him see things about himself that he'd far rather have remained blissfully ignorant of. Like how the fact that he'd not been good enough for Lisa still hurt. Sure, he knew it wasn't important anymore as the fact that he was more than what Castiel felt he needed (much as he personally might still question parts of that assertion at times) by far outweighed anything else, but still it was there.  
  
It actually bothered Dean more that he was bothered by it than anything else, so at least that was something.  
  
"Really? She's seeing a... Milton?" Dean responded.  
  
Ben laughed. "Yeah, I was really hoping it was just a phase as he's nothing like you, but no such luck."  
  
"They've been together for a while then?"  
  
"Since almost right after you left."  
  
 _That_  definitely hit Dean hard. Had Lisa really moved on so quickly from him? Or worse, had this Milton been part of the reason that she'd kicked him out in the first place?  
  
"He's also really old!" Ben complained.  
  
"Old?"  
  
"Yeah, he's almost thirty-five."  
  
Dean's lips twitched and he couldn't help but wonder just how old (or young apparently) Ben thought that he was if the boy was complaining of Milton being only a few years older than he was. He could admit that he liked the compliment.  
  
"And so totally uncool. He drives a Honda civic!"  
  
"Wait, for real?"  
  
"Yes!"  
  
"How about leather jackets, does he wear them?"  
  
"No, only thugs and gangbangers do according to him."  
  
Dean couldn't help but stare at Ben in shock. Lisa was dating an honest to God douche?  _That_  was what made her happy enough to stay in a committed relationship for over a year? What on earth had happened to her bad boy type?  
  
"And don't even get me started on his music, ugh! He likes fucking Mozart."  
  
"Language, Ben," Dean replied automatically and smiled at the eye roll it earned him. "And Mozart is... historical."  
  
"Yeah, 'cause it was written for stuffy old men who wouldn't know a good time if it hit them in the face! That's what caught my attention here now, the Zep."  
  
"And I recall he wasn't even your favorite."  
  
"No but anything even remotely decent would have been music to my ears just now, literally."  
  
Dean frowned, not at all liking the implications of that. "Wait, you've not heard any of this for a while?"  
  
"No, like I said, he's got no taste in music."  
  
"Yeah, but what about your music? Surely you've got a Walkman or one of those IPad thingies?"  
  
"IPod, and yeah, but he confiscated it."  
  
"What? Why?"  
  
"I got into a fight at school. Some kid called me a dumb jock."  
  
"And you used the punch I taught you?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
"Look, Ben, that wasn't really something you were supposed to use on other kids."  
  
"But he-"  
  
"Was still human and a child. That's a pretty powerful punch I taught you and you need to use that power responsibly, okay?"  
  
The look on Ben's face was one that Dean recognized well from all of the times he'd worn it when being chastised by his father. It tempted him to ease up a little but he resisted, knowing how important this was. Plus he knew that it was his responsibility as he'd been the one to teach the punch to Ben. That didn't mean that he had to treat the boy as he'd been treated after he'd gotten the promise that he needed though.  
  
"Yeah, okay. Sorry."  
  
"Hey," Dean said, crouching down a little. "I'm not doing this to rag on you. Just think of how you'd feel if you had seriously hurt that kid."  
  
"I'd feel like shit."  
  
"Well there you go. Now, how about you find your favorite tape and pop it in, huh?"  
  
Ben's head shot up. "For real?"  
  
"Sure, you promised and I believe you, so go on."  
  
"You're awesome!"  
  
Dean smiled at Ben's excitement and opened the door so the boy could climb into the Impala.  
  
"Ben!"  
  
The cry was followed by rushing footsteps and Dean turned his head to see a man charging straight for him. He instantly shifted into a defensive stance and used the guy's own momentum against him, tripping the man up so that he went down,  _hard_. Not knowing who or what this was, he followed him down, easily pinning the guy to the ground. The ridiculous ease with which he did it all and the G rated mutterings that he thought were meant to be curses made him extremely uneasy as it was just  _too easy_  and he half expected someone else to attack him from behind.  
  
"Dean, stop!" Ben cried out, suddenly beside him.  
  
"Get back!" Dean ordered. "Get in the car."  
  
"No, you don't understand, it's okay. That's Milton."  
  
"This is Milton?" Dean questioned in disbelief as he grabbed the back of the guy's shirt and lifted him off the ground enough so that Ben could see his face.  
  
"Yes. I think you broke his nose."  
  
Dean chose to ignore the slight glee he could hear in the boy's voice in favor of dealing with the important stuff first. "Christo."  
  
Though he couldn't see Milton's face, Ben could and Dean relaxed when the boy shook his head at him.  
  
"You thought he was a...?" Ben asked.  
  
"He attacked me for no reason," Dean explained.  
  
"You were trying to kidnap Ben," Milton accused when Dean got up off his back, allowing him to breathe properly.  
  
"Kidnap him?" Dean repeated, incredulous before he thought about what had happened and what Milton thought of people who wore leather jackets. "Dude, Ben's not stupid enough to climb into some stranger's car no matter what's offered to him. He's not a little child."  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, Dean caught Ben beaming at him and the way the boy had come to stand beside him opposite Milton wasn't lost on him either. He kept most of his attention on Milton, though, as the guy slowly got to his feet, wincing the entire time. When he got a good look at the guy's face, he saw that though bloody, Milton's nose wasn't actually broken and for that he was thankful. He could already imagine how well this entire incident was going to go down with Lisa and he didn't need that on top of everything else. Not when Milton already had cuts and scrapes on his hands and knees, the latter despite wearing long pants, but then that was Milton's own fault for wearing what looked like suit pants to the park instead of jeans like sensible people did. Well, sensible  _human_  people anyway.  
  
"He was getting into a thug car with a gangbanger, what was I supposed to think?" Milton snapped back.  
  
"Dude, my baby isn't a thug car, she's a classic muscle car! And loads of people wear leather, Milton."  
  
"That's Mr. Statton to you."  
  
Dean's eyebrows rose and he glanced down at Ben in disbelief. "Is he for real?"  
  
"Totally."  
  
"I'm standing right here," Milton snapped. "And who are you anyway?"  
  
"He's Dean Winchester, Mom's old boyfriend," Ben replied gleefully before Dean could stop him. "The cool one, remember?"  
  
The way Milton stiffened would have been hilarious under any other circumstances but Dean's good mood had long since vanished once more. His ego couldn't help but notice the insecurity and uncertainty he caught flickering through the guy's eyes as he was assessed once more. He almost pitied the guy in a way. Not only was he far better looking than Milton, but he was also in much better shape.  
  
"Milton? Ben?"  
  
Dean stiffened as he recognized Lisa's voice, and noticed that he wasn't the only one to do so. Oh this was going to go so well. Best to just bite the bullet and get it over with. "Over here, Lisa."  
  
"Dean?" Lisa demanded in shock as she turned towards them, then her expression turned alarmed as she caught sight of her boyfriend and rushed towards them. "Milton! Oh my God, what happened to you?"  
  
"Your old boyfriend did," Milton replied.  
  
"Hey!" Dean protested.  
  
"Dean, how could you?" Lisa demanded, glaring at him.  
  
"It's not his fault!" Ben shouted. "Milton attacked Dean and got his ass handed to him. It was awesome!"  
  
"What?" Lisa asked, looking down at her son.  
  
"Milton attacked Dean and Dean didn't know who he was so he just-"  
  
"Reacted," Lisa finished and Dean relaxed slightly at that.  
  
Clearly she could understand how it had gone from there. Dean knew that she'd watched him training enough to know how quickly he moved and that his job, such as it was, meant that he reacted first and questioned things later when attacked.  
  
"He thought I was trying to kidnap Ben," Dean finished for, while he disliked how lowly Milton thought of the boy, he couldn't fault the protective reaction it had invoked. Even if the guy clearly didn't know the first thing about fighting or even self-defense.  
  
"You broke my nose," Milton accused, taking the tissue Lisa handed him.  
  
This time it was Dean's turn to roll his eyes. "It's not broken,  _Mr. Statton_ , just bruised."  
  
"Mr. Statton?" Lisa questioned.  
  
"He insisted."  
  
Lisa gave him a look and Dean just shrugged. It was true in the strictest sense, so what if he'd taken that request and turned it back around on itself? It was a skill and one that had driven many of his teachers nuts over the years. He'd never dared try it on his father, though, so the poor man'd had to put up with complaints from teachers that he didn't think Dad had ever quite understood. Not if his father's mutterings about teachers not being able to make up their damn minds was anything to go by. He'd always been careful not to overuse it, though. It had been ages since he'd last done it and he wasn't quite sure where the urge came from now, but he found that while he didn't plan on making this any harder than it had to be, he wasn't going to make it easy for Lisa either. She'd been the one to kick him out after all and that despite all that he'd done to please both her and Ben.  
  
What more had she wanted from him than his best?  
  
"Here, let me see," Lisa said, turning her attention back to Milton.  
  
Not sure he wanted to see that, Dean was glad when Ben tapped his arm. "Yeah?"  
  
"Can I still chose a tape to put on?" Ben asked.  
  
"Sure, go ahead."  
  
Dean leaned down to lean on the door and watch Ben as much due to the fact that he'd missed the boy as because he really didn't want to witness what might be going on behind him. "So, did you ever ask Sarah over?"  
  
Ben blinked, pausing to look at him. "How'd you know about her?"  
  
"Because I've got eyes and I saw the way you looked at her."  
  
"Was I really that obvious about it?"  
  
"Nah, only to me."  
  
"Oh, that's okay then."  
  
"Is it?" Dean smiled.  
  
"Yeah, you're cool and you like observe for a living. You notice things other people wouldn't."  
  
A fairly accurate opinion and Dean's smile grew as he watched Ben find the Metallica tape he liked best and open it. With a familiarity that sent pangs through him, Ben stopped the Zep tape and swapped it out for his chosen one, twisting the volume knob up even higher.  
  
"Oh, yeah!" Ben exclaimed, delighted as the first riffs of the guitar come on.  
  
" _Hey, Cas?_ " Dean sent silently.  
  
" _Yes, Beloved?_ " Castiel replied instantly. " _Sorry for the delay, there is a long queue._ "  
  
" _No, s'okay. Just get a third cone, would you? Rocky road._ "  
  
" _Of course. What is wrong?_ "  
  
The words were accompanied by a sense of warmth from the bond and Dean closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the sensation. It washed over his soul, soothing and reassuring, and he just wanted to get lost in it. Unfortunately that wasn't an option and he considered telling his husband what was going on but he wasn't quite sure how Castiel would react to learning that Lisa was here, but he didn't think it would be particularly conducive to keeping the situation calm.  
  
" _I ran into some unexpected people,_ " Dean answered instead.  
  
" _I will not be much longer._ "  
  
" _Okay._ "  
  
"Dean? Are you okay?" Ben asked.  
  
"What? Oh, sorry about that."  
  
"You were a million miles away."  
  
"Actually I was a whole lot closer than that, but that's beside the point. Sorry."  
  
"You're weird sometimes, you know that?"  
  
Dean laughed. "Everyone's a little weird sometimes, otherwise they're just boring."  
  
"But, Lisa-" Milton exclaimed behind them, drawing Dean's attention back to the two of them.  
  
"No, Milton, I need to speak with Dean. Alone," Lisa replied firmly. "Just go back to the car and get some of the Tylenol from the first aid kit in the trunk, Ben and I will be along shortly."  
  
Milton shot him a displeased and angry look and Dean couldn't blame the guy. Leaving your girlfriend with her old boyfriend was not something a guy ever wanted to do, but at least they were in a public place and Ben was sticking around, so really Milton didn't have anything to worry about. Not unless he was feeling insecure about something, though now that he thought about it again, the man actually should be. A woman like Lisa was so far out of his league it wasn't even funny and he just didn't get what she saw in him, he really didn't and that wasn't just coming from the jilted and hurt feelings he still, apparently, nursed on some level.  
  
"Fine," Milton said with ill humor, though he still took the time to kiss her full on the lips.  
  
"Eew!" Ben exclaimed from behind Dean. "My eyes!"  
  
The reaction amused Dean, especially since Ben had never quite been that dramatic when the boy had caught him and Lisa kissing. Milton was going to have his hands full with Ben if the guy stayed with Lisa, that was for sure. It amused him a little to think of how they'd butt heads as he had no doubt of the form of rebellion that Ben would take given Milton's weaknesses. He could definitely see loud, blaring music and leather jackets in their future, that was for sure.  
  
"Sorry about that," Lisa said once Milton was out of earshot, though Dean caught the guy looking back more than once before Milton disappeared from view. "Anyway, this is unexpected."  
  
"You're telling me," Dean replied. "I hadn't expected to run into you guys here."  
  
"We're taking a mini holiday."  
  
Behind Dean, Ben snorted and he was sure he heard the boy mutter "Holiday for you perhaps." Apparently Lisa caught enough of it to understand the gist of it as well as she shot her son a scolding look. Well, either that or Ben had made his opinion on the matter more than clear already and she could guess what his reaction to her words would be.  
  
"Ben," Lisa said, the one word laden with meaning.  
  
"It's true!" Ben retorted defiantly, getting out of the Impala to stand beside Dean. "I'd rather be at home, attending school."  
  
"We've already talked about this. This was on the only time that-"  
  
"Milton's mother was free, yeah, yeah. Who cares about his stupid mother anyway?"  
  
"Ben! We'll talk about this later."  
  
"What's the point?" Ben scoffed.  
  
"Ben," Dean interrupted. "Respect your mother."  
  
The boy shot him a rebellious look but kept his mouth shut and Dean caught the look of relief that crossed Lisa's face. Although he'd always felt a bit uncomfortable when it came to disciplining Ben or taking a stand on various issues, this was the one thing that he'd stood firm on from the beginning and Ben knew he was serious on the matter. They'd had a long talk about it once and it had been one of the only times that he'd ever discussed his own mother with anyone other than his own families. For things to have gotten as bad as they had between Ben and Lisa proved that the boy really didn't care for Milton, but he hadn't seen enough to know whether that was merely the early stages of teenage rebellion kicking in or something far more sinister.  
  
"So, how come you're here?" Lisa finally asked, turning her attention back to him. "There isn't something evil here, is there?"  
  
"No, no, this place is supernatural free as far as I know," Dean responded hastily, not wanting to alarm her. "I was just in the area."  
  
"You've gotta be kidding me!" Ben exclaimed. "You don't see each other for a year and this is what you talk about? For real?"  
  
"Ben-" Lisa began tiredly.  
  
"No, you were good together, you were! And I  _like_  Dean. Come on, Mom, can't you guys try again? Please?"  
  
Dean felt something inside of him break for Ben as he could completely understand the sentiment and where the boy was coming from. Ben was trying desperately to save his family as the boy saw it and he couldn't help but sympathize with that even if he knew it to be an impossible dream in this case.  
  
"Ben," Dean started, crouching down a little to be at eye level with the boy. "It's not that simple."  
  
"But-"  
  
"I'm married."  
  
"You're what?"  
  
"Married?" Lisa echoed, stunned.  
  
"But," Ben stuttered, clearly shocked, looking at his hand.  
  
The lack of ring suddenly made Dean feel incredibly self-conscious and his hand formed a fist before he'd thought about it even as he scrambled for a reasonable explanation. "It's safer this way. You know what's out there; what we're up against. It's better for both Cas and me if they can't immediately tell that we're together."  
  
Both Ben and Lisa appeared far too shocked by the sudden revelation to immediately comment further and it gave Dean a moment to savor the fact that he'd actually just told someone about his bonding. Well, kinda, but it was close enough for government. The ring thing did suddenly bug him, however, especially since it was such an intrinsic part of human society. Not to mention the fact that he'd grown up seeing his father treat his own wedding ring with such reverence and respect. It had led him to always respect the sanctity of marriage even if almost everything else had been fair game at one time or another.  
  
"Wait, you  _hunt_  with her- Cas?" Lisa finally questioned.  
  
"Yeah. Turns out hunting actually is far too intrinsic a part of who I really am to be cut out of my life entirely."  
  
"Oh."  
  
There was a ripple of recognition from the bond accompanied by the flutter of wings and Dean just knew that things were about to get a whole lot more complicated even before he felt the wash of jealousy and possessiveness from his husband.  
  
Crap.


	156. Chapter 155

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lisa and Ben meet Castiel.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
The startled gasps and reactions from both Lisa and Ben would have told Dean that his husband had simply appeared out of thin air behind him even if he hadn't been able to hear his angel's close arrival.  
  
"Cas," Dean admonished, turning to give him a dark, disapproving look.  
  
"They already know about the supernatural, so I did not feel that there was any need for pretenses," Castiel replied simply, but Dean wasn't fooled.  
  
Not when he could feel his husband's emotions and jealous intentions. His angel wished to claim him right here and now before Lisa so that she would realize that he wasn't available and instead belonged to Castiel. The idea made it surprisingly hard to concentrate, especially when he could tell exactly what his husband had planned for him. He resisted as much as he could, though, not wanting to cause a public spectacle for one and definitely not wanting to scar Ben for life for another.  
  
"Wait,  _he's_  Cas?" Lisa suddenly questioned, voice far higher than normal. "You married a guy? Are you bi?"  
  
Dean sighed, turning back to look at her. "Yes, yes and yes. Lisa, Ben, meet Castiel. Cas, this is Lisa and Ben."  
  
"I know," Castiel responded before stepping forward to stand before Ben and holding out one of the three ice cream cones that he held. "I believe that this one is for you, Ben Braeden."  
  
Ben's eyes were wide with shock, though from which part of all that had been so suddenly revealed to him, Dean didn't know. He felt bad for the boy, though, and wasn't quite sure what to do, but when Ben's eyes darted to him for guidance and permission, he nodded easily.  
  
"It's okay, you can take it," Dean stated, knowing how much the boy loved rocky road ice cream. They'd been completely unable to have a tub of it in the house for more than a few hours at most before it was gone. He still wasn't quite sure where Ben put it all, but vanish it most definitely did.  
  
"Thank you," Ben said, taking the cone though he couldn't help but stare at Castiel. "What are you?"  
  
"I am an angel of the Lord," Castiel replied easily.  
  
"An angel?" Lisa demanded, voice almost hysterical now and Dean winced.  
  
"Lis-"  
  
"He's joking right? Please tell me that he's joking."  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
Lisa paled dramatically at that and Dean took two quick steps forward, worried that she was going to faint or fall down. The action caused a flare of jealousy to zing across the bond which was accompanied by a growl from Castiel.  
  
"Dude!" Ben exclaimed, though thankfully completely without fear.  
  
Dean was glad for the small favor and cast his husband a slightly irritated glare when Castiel suddenly appeared beside him, the other two ice cream cones that his angel had held were now gone without a trace.  
  
"She-" Castiel began with an abrupt hand gesture, both of which were cut short, at least out loud. " _She_ hurt _you!_ "  
  
The words instantly swept away the rising irritation that Dean was starting to feel and affection swelled within him instead. It was followed swiftly by pleasure at the fact that his husband had managed to catch himself before uttering that statement out loud. He knew that once Castiel would not even have thought to do so, inadvertently embarrassing him even as his angel sought to defend him.  
  
"Hey," Dean said softly, bringing a hand up to cup his husband's face. " _I'm fine now, Cas. You already helped me get over that. And besides, if she hadn't done that then we'd never have had a chance to realize how we felt about each other and then where would we be?_ "  
  
Castiel struggled with that logic, Dean could see it in his angel's eyes, but it was the plain truth. If Lisa had never broken up with him then he wouldn't be here with his husband. He almost shuddered to think of what might have happened instead, especially since the cage would still have deteriorated to the point of failure and the Apocalypse would have once again been on regardless of his personal situation. The only difference was that then he'd have had Lisa and Ben to worry about while also doing all that he could to stop it. How would things have gone differently then? Would Michael and Raphael have managed to see the truth if he'd been working from Cicero? Would he have been able to remain there? Or would he have had to leave and drag Lisa and Ben onto the road with him?  
  
A slight cough from behind him abruptly reminded Dean that they had an audience and he broke his gaze from Castiel to look back at Lisa and Ben. The boy just seemed confused by what had happened, clearly not getting it and instead Ben was still spending most of his time staring at his husband and eating his ice cream. He wondered if it was the fact that Castiel was an angel that fascinated Ben so much or the fact that Castiel was his husband. Either way it appeared to be pretty harmless at this point, so he focused all of his attention on Lisa instead, sending the mental equivalent of a light shove at his husband when a strong arm snaked around his waist, settling there possessively after it had pulled him back against Castiel.  
  
Lisa's color had gotten better and she seemed to have gotten over her initial shock enough to be able to compose herself and Dean couldn't help but smile at the reminder of part of why he'd been so drawn to her once. Though he'd never been particularly picky when it came to his one night stands, he'd definitely had a type when it came to those men and women that he'd spent more time with and both strength of character and will had been part of that. So it had been with both Cassie and Lisa and so it was with Castiel, as his husband eagerly demonstrated by tightening his grip on him.  
  
" _I'm not going anywhere, Cas,_ " Dean declared firmly.  
  
" _Mine,_ " Castiel replied simply.  
  
The sentiment made Dean want to laugh but he suppressed it. Clearly his bond mate wasn't going to be reasoned with just now, though he was sure that the fact that he secretly didn't mind in the least wasn't helping. Not with the fact that the bond made that particular sentiment of his much less secret than it would once have been. The simple fact of the matter was that he'd almost always loved Castiel's jealous streak, both because it had caused the true start of their relationship and because some twisted part of him had used to crave that sentiment as proof that he was truly wanted and desired. Now of course he knew better, but he'd never quite lost the affinity for his angel's displays of jealousy or possession.  
  
"Is he serious, Dean? Is he really an angel? An  _angel_ , angel?" Lisa questioned again, clearly not able to believe what she'd been told.  
  
"Yes, he really is," Dean confirmed gently.  
  
"An angel."  
  
"I get that this is a lot all at once, even with all that you both already knew."  
  
"But... you said that you were  _married_  to this Cas."  
  
"I am, we are," Dean corrected, glancing back at his husband.  
  
They must have done their staring thing again because when Dean turned his attention back to Lisa, she had a completely different expression on her face. It was now thoughtful and something else which he couldn't quite identify, but he didn't think that it was negative, so that was okay.  
  
"Is that even allowed?"  
  
"Of course," Castiel replied sharply.  
  
"What he means is that we humans have a pretty skewed view of angels and religion," Dean explained. "The Bible got more wrong than it got right."  
  
"Why wouldn't it be okay?" Ben asked, confused.  
  
"It seems to imply that angels are asexual," Castiel explained.  
  
"Really? Why would anyone think that?"  
  
"Uh," Dean began, unsure how to handle this one, knowing that Lisa might well disapprove of his explanation.  
  
"I'll explain it later," Lisa said. "So it's allowed?"  
  
"Yes, it's fine. Though that's not to say that some of his elder brothers didn't give me a hard time about it nonetheless, but no, it's not banned or forbidden or anything else like that."  
  
"Not if the emotions behind the relationship are true," Castiel added. "Father would never disapprove of love."  
  
If he'd not been held in place, Dean would have squirmed at the sudden shift in the tone of the conversation and where it was going. The absolute last thing that he wanted was for this whole thing to turn into one giant chick flick moment, a possibility which was made all the more distinctly possible by Lisa's very presence. The sheer number of romantic comedies that he'd been forced to sit through while in Cicero was something that he'd far rather never think about too closely ever again.  
  
"I see," Lisa replied softly. "And love it clearly is."  
  
Dean frowned as he looked over at her. "Lis?"  
  
"Oh, please, I'm not blind, Dean. I've never seen you look at someone the way that you just looked at Castiel."  
  
"Lisa, I-"  
  
"Hush, it's okay," Lisa interrupted, taking a step towards him and then blinking in surprise before smiling when Castiel dragged him back a step, much to his chagrin. "Clearly I was wrong about a lot of things, but you know what? I'm glad that I was."  
  
For once Dean didn't know what to say, his throat working silently as he searched her eyes for anything other than honesty but not finding it. He'd never really allowed himself to spend much time thinking about Lisa after she'd kicked him out, not only because it had always hurt far too much, but also because he'd never thought that any good could come of it. So things going as well as they were now? It was practically unthinkable and not all that long ago it would have led him to search for whatever supernatural influence was causing it. Now, though, well maybe- just maybe- Castiel had finally managed to get him to consider that, perhaps sometimes, good things did actually happen.  
  
"Thanks," Dean finally managed to utter, voice not quite as steady as he'd have liked it to have been.  
  
"My pleasure," Lisa replied before shifting her gaze to glance over his shoulder at his husband. "Would you mind taking Ben aside for a moment, Castiel? I need to speak with Dean for a moment."  
  
He was so sure that the request would draw a protest from his angel, if not an outright denial, that Dean was stunned when Castiel acquiesced easily. He floundered for a moment, not quite able to reconcile the behavior with his husband's earlier behavior and the possessive jealousy that he could even now still feel thrumming strong and vital across their bond. Then, however, he felt it, nestled securely amongst the other emotions, a surprised pleasure that Castiel was sheltering almost as if his angel believed that to give it too much attention would make it shatter and vanish.  
  
It took Dean a little longer to realize that  _he'd_  caused those emotions and the fragile hope he felt along with it. His silent acknowledgement of the truth that Castiel had tried to get him to see from their very first meeting on Earth had caused this. It was humbling in a way.  
  
"I hate to bring this up now, but Ben got into a fight at school recently and he, well..." Lisa began hesitantly.  
  
"It's okay, he told me," Dean replied.  
  
"He did? Really?"  
  
"Yeah and he promised me that he wouldn't do it again."  
  
"He what? Just like that?"  
  
Dean frowned. "What's wrong, Lis?"  
  
"He outright refused to do that earlier."  
  
"Look, I hate to ask, but were you the one asking it from him or was it Milton?"  
  
"It was both of us."  
  
"Are you sure? Did you ask him yourself or were you just there when Milton did?"  
  
"I..." Lisa began, then paused. "You think it's that?"  
  
"Look, I really don't want to intrude on things which are none of my business, but from what I've seen Ben  _really_  doesn't like Milton. Like not even remotely."  
  
"Don't I know it. He's been acting up more and more lately. I was really hoping that it was just a reaction to you not being there anymore at first, but it's only gotten worse since then, not better."  
  
"Perhaps it'll get better now he knows that there's absolutely no chance that we'll get back together again."  
  
"Yeah, perhaps."  
  
"You don't think so?"  
  
"Given some of the fights between them lately and Ben's behavior? No, not really."  
  
"Sorry."  
  
Lisa frowned, looking over at where Ben was shamelessly returning one of Castiel's blatant stares. "Do you think I'm wrong to stay with him? Milton?"  
  
"Oh boy. I don't know? I'm hardly the person to ask about this. You know my history, Lisa."  
  
"And yet look at you now; married if not quite settled down."  
  
Dean laughed. "There is that. But about this? I don't know, I guess it depends on how serious you are about him. I mean he  _is_  quite different from the guys that you've dated in the past, not at all like the type you once told me you had."  
  
"No, I know. It surprised me too, but it just seems to work."  
  
"Well if it's that and not just some reaction to what happened with us and those before me, then I'd go for it. I'm sure Ben will see that he genuinely makes you happy eventually. Plus if Milton really cares for you as much, then he'll make an effort to change as well."  
  
"Listen to you, I can hardly believe you're the same guy I knew before."  
  
"Trust me, sometimes  _I_  hardly recognize myself," Dean admitted, though he had no regrets whatsoever.  
  
"I'm happy for you, Dean," Lisa said honestly before she stepped close and kissed his cheek. "Don't be a stranger."  
  
Then, before Dean could react to either of those things, Lisa had turned around and was walking away. No sooner had that registered then Castiel was beside him, a jealous growl low in his angel's throat.  
  
"Mine," Castiel declared before the world dissolved around Dean.  
  
When it reformed, Dean found himself in the back of the Impala. He barely had a chance to figure out that they weren't where he'd parked them before his husband was on him. Their clothes vanished and Castiel's hands were everywhere, mapping his meatsuit out possessively even as he felt a swell of emotions and power through the bond, letting his angel essentially do the same to his soul. He responded to it eagerly, finally able to just let go. He had a brief thought of exactly why it was that he'd hardly ever brought a guy back to the Impala when he was awkwardly pressed up against the door, but it was fleeting as the next thing he felt were feathers all along his back as he was both cocooned and cradled in his husband's wings.  
  
"Cas," Dean moaned, arching up into his angel's touches.  
  
"Mine," Castiel growled once more, pushing his way between his thighs.  
  
Possessiveness flowed over the bond like a live thing and Dean eagerly soaked it up, allowing his angel to position him just as Castiel wanted him. The Grace light was already beginning to shine behind his husband's eyes and anticipation and desire coiled tightly within him. His husband claimed a kiss that was literally breathtaking and he absently wondered just how long they'd be able to keep it up if he didn't need to stop to breathe. The thought made him moan again at the mere idea of being intertwined both like that and further down.  
  
Due to the emotions coursing through Castiel, his prep was less than normal, but Dean cried out and arched into the burn, loving every moment of it. His husband was usually so controlled that he absolutely loved driving his angel past that point like this. Coherent thought fled as his wrists were swept up above his head and held there though Castiel's hands never left his hips, keeping him pinned down precisely as his angel wanted him despite what should have been an awkward and cramped space. He mewled thoughtlessly as he was claimed, his breath hitching as Castiel shifted just enough to be able to reach his neck with his teeth.  
  
The pleasure and arousal washed over Dean, driving him higher and closer to the brink and he was completely helpless to resist it. Pinned down as he was, he could only twist his hands slightly so as to grasp a few feathers and the edge of one delicate wing, both of which he tugged at as best he could given the way he was being restrained. Castiel growled and thrust into him, hard. He begged for more while struggling to keep his eyes open as the interior of his baby steadily filled with more and more of his husband's true form. It almost seemed stronger than before, the bond between them fully open and Castiel  _inside_  of him in a way his angel never had been before. Despite that he strained for  _more_.  
  
"Cas," Dean begged. "Cas, please! Cas... more, harder... I-"  
  
"Come for me, Dean. Now."  
  
Helpless to resist, Dean did just that, pleasure rushing over him like molten lava as he felt something unknown almost click into place deep inside of him. It was swiftly followed by an equally strong wave of  _pleasure, love, fulfilment_  and his eyes fell closed as he felt his husband come within him.  
  
Dean had no clue how much time passed as they lay there, still intertwined and sheltered in Castiel's wings as they both slowly came down from their high, but he didn't care either. Not so long as his husband was there with him then he was perfectly content and happy to remain there forever, just like that. Eventually Castiel shifted slightly and slipped out of him and he groaned his protest, turning into his angel as he was released, not yet ready to have it end. His husband's wings drew in tighter behind him, still cocooning them off from the rest of the world.  
  
"So," Dean finally said, breaking the comfortable silence. "Did you get it all out of your system?"  
  
"Maybe," Castiel replied coyly. "We'll see."  
  
A little thrill ran down Dean's spine at the words even as he chuckled. "Good because then perhaps we can go back for that ice cream we didn't actually have in the end."  
  
The next thing that Dean knew, his bond mate husband was holding two ice cream cones in one hand. The same two cones that his angel had gotten them earlier if he wasn't very much mistaken.  
  
"Seriously?" Dean asked, startled.  
  
Castiel merely shrugged, a slightly ashamed expression on his face and Dean threw he head back and laughed.


	157. Chapter 156

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobby wonders at the relationship between Dean and his archangels and learns more about what his betrayal did to Dean.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
It was early morning yet so the only sound disturbing Bobby's contemplation as he sat outside on the back porch with his first cup of coffee of the day was the song of whatever the local birds were. He was sure that Karen would have been able to identify them from that alone, but to him they were just birds. So long as they didn't try to attack him or make off with any of his stuff then he was perfectly happy to just let them be and ignore them, especially when there was a far more puzzling event to capture his attention.  
  
Bobby had just come out here to enjoy the dawn and have his coffee in peace, but as soon as his eyes had fallen on that spot further in the yard, he'd been unable not to recall the scene that he'd observed there from this very spot yesterday. Things had been a little tense in the house ever since Sam and Dean's argument two days ago, so he'd come outside to escape it all for a little while only to find that Dean was already outside with one of his archangels. Even now despite all of the time that he'd had to get used to that concept, he still couldn't quite think that without pausing.  _Dean and his archangels_. It sounded like some line out of a cheesy movie or TV show. Like Charlie's angels.  
  
Even so, Bobby had found himself completely unable to look away. He tried to comfort himself with the thought that if it had been Castiel with Dean that he'd have given the two some privacy, but he knew that would have had nothing to do with a lack of curiosity and everything to do with the fact that seeing the dark bruise at the base of Dean's throat upon the boy's return to the house hours after storming out was already far too much information. Even without Dean's radical shift in mood, he'd have known exactly what the boy had gotten up to with Castiel from that alone and while he was happy that the angel had once again been able to be there for the boy when he himself couldn't be, he really didn't have to know that.  
  
Since it had been Raphael with Dean instead of Castiel, though, he'd had no such reason to get back up and go back inside. Despite some lingering guilt, Bobby was glad that he'd stayed to watch. Not only was Raphael the biggest unknown as far as the three archangels were concerned (since only Dean and Castiel had interacted with him before this whole mess), but he was also the most antagonistic and potentially the most volatile. He recalled well what Dean had mentioned about his and Castiel's meeting with the archangel as well as the fact that Raphael was the one who'd killed Castiel for interfering with the start of the Apocalypse. It was hard to reconcile all of that with the trust and friendship that both Dean and Castiel gave the archangel now.  
  
Before yesterday Bobby wouldn't have been quite sure how to classify the relationship between Dean and Raphael, for although he'd seen them together on a few occasions, he'd never really seen them interact all that much before. That might have tempted him to place them in the 'allies only' category, but all of that had changed yesterday afternoon. At first the two had simply seemed to be talking to each other, their body language- well, rather  _Dean's_  body language- had been calm and relaxed, a little more intimate perhaps than he'd have expected from them, but then he was talking about an angel here. He could only all too well recall all of Dean's complaints at the start of the boy's acquaintance with Castiel of the angel's complete and utter lack of understanding of either personal space or privacy, so he wasn't too surprised to see that Raphael failed to respect either of them as well. As for Dean's seemingly easy acceptance of it all, well the boy  _had_  been spending significant amounts of time with angels for the past few years, so he figured that Dean had just gotten used to it all.  
  
He'd just been getting bored of watching them, when things had changed and Bobby had found himself fascinated despite himself. It had started with what looked like the end of their conversation and his eyes had just been drifting away from them when Dean had jumped and yelped loud enough for the sound to carry all the way over to him. He had to admit that he'd sat up a bit straighter in his chair at that, afraid that Raphael had done something to Dean, but though the boy's posture had changed to a more defensive one, he knew Dean well enough to know that it wasn't a belligerent one. What happened next was one of the most bizarre things that he'd witnessed in a good long while.  
  
Dean had suddenly launched himself forwards, towards Raphael, but the archangel had clearly been expecting it and easily avoided the attack, even without resorting to his angelic powers. What had really interested Bobby was that the boy hadn't gone for center mass as would have made the most sense, but instead Dean had almost been aiming  _next_  to the archangel, which hadn't made any sense to him at first. It was only after watching the two dance around each other like this for a few minutes, Raphael with a huge smile on his face and laughing every time that Dean jumped and yelped, that he got it. The boy was going after Raphael's  _wings_.  
  
With that revelation everything had fallen into place for Bobby. The archangel was  _teasing_  the boy somehow and Dean was doing his utmost best to retaliate, but it just wasn't working, much to the boy's consternation and Raphael's endless amusement. The longer it had gone on, the more worked up Dean had gotten and he'd recognized well the way the boy's eyes had narrowed and the finger pointed at the archangel, no doubt promising retribution as he'd often witnessed Dean do in the past with Sam whenever the younger Winchester had pulled one over on his big brother.  
  
The comparison had stunned Bobby and if he hadn't seen it with his own two eyes, then he'd never have believed it. But there it had been, plain to see for all who'd bothered to look. In the end Raphael had said something before he'd vanished, leaving Dean to scream "Coward!" at the sky along with something else that had sounded suspiciously like a threat to pluck the archangel bald and he'd been unable not to laugh at that. Despite the frustration and promised violence, there had been something surprisingly light and almost carefree in Dean's voice that he hadn't heard in far too long.  
  
He didn't think that the boy had spotted him and given the contemplative look that had settled onto Dean's face shortly afterwards, Bobby hadn't felt it right to interfere, so he'd quietly gotten up and gone back inside. Now he couldn't help but think about it all again and wonder about what it all meant. Yeah, sure, it clearly had been a light-hearted moment between the two, but it was the  _type_  of connection between Dean and Raphael that it implied which captured his full attention now. If he'd wanted to, he could almost have fooled himself into believing that it was a scene which had taken place years ago between Sam and Dean, it had just been that brotherly. Not to mention the fact that he'd practically never seen Dean form that kind of relationship with anyone else, even as a child.  
  
It was a conundrum that Bobby couldn't help but pick at. It also brought up some very interesting questions as well. After Dean had stormed out the other day, he'd had a right go at Sam, completely unable to believe the stupid idjit's actions. Although most of what Sam had spouted in his defense had been total bullshit, the boy had mentioned one interesting fact and that had been what Sam had witnessed transpiring between his brother and Michael. He hadn't quite known what to make of the fact that Dean had apparently allowed Michael such a proprietary touch, but now he couldn't help but wonder if it wasn't because of the exact same reason that the boy had been so downright  _playful_  with Raphael, not that he expected Dean to see his actions in that manner. No, Dean had probably seen it a righteous indignation for whatever it was that the archangel had been doing to him.  
  
Idjit boy.  
  
The sound of the door opening behind him pulled Bobby out of his contemplation.  
  
"I thought I heard someone moving about down here," Samuel said. "Couldn't sleep?"  
  
"Just need less sleep these days," Bobby replied, turning to look at the other man. "Well, you look like hell."  
  
"Thank you, that's just what I wanted to hear."  
  
"Did you sleep at all?"  
  
"No, I was up all night reading."  
  
"Oh? Anything good."  
  
Instead of replying, Samuel handed over the three books that he held. Bobby frowned as he accepted them and then grimaced as he recognized the style of the cover art. A quick glance at the author's name confirmed his suspicion. Carver Edlund.  
  
"These the next three books in the series?" Bobby asked.  
  
"Yes. Feel free to read them, though I'll warn you now, Castiel wasn't at all exaggerating about the state he found Dean in when he returned to Earth."  
  
"No, I never suspected that he was. Lord knows I love that boy but he has the world's worst coping mechanisms, if they can even be called that, as the only thing he doesn't do is cope in any way shape or form."  
  
"So I've learned," Samuel replied dryly. "Just an extra caution, I know that Dean's forgiven you now, but at the time... well..."  
  
Bobby snorted. "You trying to warn me that my feelings will be hurt?"  
  
"Knowing you hurt someone and seeing what it did to them are two very different things. Especially since my eldest grandson seems completely incapable of doing anything by half."  
  
"He simply doesn't see the point."  
  
Despite the forced levity of the reply, Bobby's stomach was suddenly in knots. Just the mere thought of how he'd hurt Dean was enough to pain him even now, but to actually have it all spelt out for him in black and white... Well he honestly wasn't sure if he could handle that, especially knowing what the boy had done in the past when betrayed by someone that Dean had trusted. He tightened his grip on the books though as reading them would be his penance.  
  
If there was one thing that Robert Steven Singer was not, it was a coward and he'd damn well own up to his own idjit mistakes and see the consequences thereof, no matter how much it might hurt him to do so.  
  
"Which one is first?" Bobby asked.  
  
" _Unexpected Destinies_ ," Samuel replied. "Give me your mug, I'll get you some more coffee. You'll need it."  
  
That wasn't ominous at all. Bobby handed across his now empty cup and put aside the two books that he didn't need. For a few moments he couldn't do anything but look at the cover of  _Unexpected Destinies_. He had the misfortune of having seen enough of the this particular artist's so-called work to be able to recognize that the figure on the cover was supposed to be Dean, but it wasn't the boy as he was used to seeing him through this artist's eyes. Instead of being unnaturally free of flaws, this Dean looked like death warmed over and was surrounded by empty beer and liquor bottles.  
  
Afraid that he'd lose his nerve afterall, Bobby flipped the book open and forced himself to start reading.  
  


* * *

  
  
Against all reasonable expectations, that evening turned out to be a pleasant one for most of those staying at the Campbell compound. Smart woman that she was, Gwen had gone out and bought booze, greasy burgers and fries. The effect of those simple pleasures was electrifying and Bobby had already raised a glass to her. He was sure that the fact that they were all present, the rest of them acting as a buffer between Sam and Dean, helped, but he was sure that the alcohol and food were the biggest reasons for the lack of tension.  
  
"There's pie for later," Gwen stated as they settled into various couches and chairs in the living room.  
  
"Pie?" Dean inquired immediately, perking up from where he'd slumped back in the aptly name love seat with Castiel.  
  
"You're not serious," Samuel muttered before turning to look at him. "Please tell me that he's not serious."  
  
"Dean always has room for pie," Bobby explained.  
  
"Dude, it's pie!" Dean exclaimed before turning his attention back towards Gwen. "What kind is it?"  
  
"One's rhubarb-"  
  
"Ew!" Sam cried out, pulling a face. "Rhubarb, uh."  
  
"- and the other's blueberry. They were part of the store's seasonal selection and on offer."  
  
"Mm, I'll have a piece of each," Dean stated.  
  
"They already knew that," Castiel responded with a smile.  
  
"See if I share any with you now."  
  
"I am sure that your cousin will permit me to have my own piece should I so desire."  
  
"So do I normally, doesn't stop you from stealing from my plate half the time."  
  
"My teeth," Bobby complained.  
  
"You okay?" Gwen asked, concerned.  
  
"No, the sweetness is giving me cavities."  
  
A few seconds of silence then: "Hey!" Dean protested, throwing a pillow at him.  
  
Bobby batted the projectile aside easily and Sam quickly appropriated it as his own. "I just call 'em as I see 'em."  
  
In truth Bobby had hardly been able to force the words out of his mouth, almost afraid that doing so would shatter the illusion and instead of the seemingly carefree and relaxed Dean he'd be left with the broken shell of a man that he'd been reading about most of the day. As it was he'd already drawn more than one concerned or puzzled look from the boy and he knew that if he didn't start acting more normal and quick that he'd be subjected to a mother hen routine, Dean Winchester style and he just didn't think that he could cope with that right now. Not with all that he'd put the boy through.  
  
Sure, intellectually Bobby had known that he'd hurt Dean deeply but- just as he'd feared- reading about it brought the reality of just what he'd done home in a way that merely knowing about it never could. The worst thing was that, as bad of an author as Chuck Shurley was, the guy still managed to evoke scenes that he couldn't help but picture with crystal perfect clarity. That probably had more to do with his personal knowledge of Dean than any hint of skill on Shurley's part, but it still left him with stuff that was sure would haunt his dreams for weeks to come.  
  
"So how about we take the rest of tonight off?" Samuel suggested. "You know, take a break. Well, unless there's anything that we need to prepare for tomorrow?"  
  
"No," Castiel replied. "Tomorrow's part of the spell requires no special preparation. All that Sam must do is ingest a potion we will prepare and then recite a few lines."  
  
"That's it?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"This is the bit about me recanting my permission and desire to be Lucifer's vessel, isn't it?" Sam inquired.  
  
"Yes, precisely."  
  
"Okay, so let's do something relaxing tonight," Samuel stated.  
  
"What exactly did you have in mind?" Bobby inquired.  
  
"I don't know, a movie?"  
  
Dean laughed. "Good luck finding something we have that everyone wants to watch."  
  
"I don't know, we've got  _Inception_  and I for one have not seen it yet," Gwen stated.  
  
" _Inception_? Is that the dream one? Where they break into people's minds while they're sleeping?" Sam asked.  
  
"Yep."  
  
"Not really one I'd thought that you'd go for," Dean said.  
  
Gwen shrugged. "It looks interesting and if all else fails then I'll still have plenty of eye candy to enjoy."  
  
"Eye candy?" Castiel questioned with a frown and a head tilt.  
  
"Someone hot that you like to look at," Gwen explained. "Vicarious enjoyment."  
  
Because he was watching the two so closely, Bobby caught the way Dean's eyes flashed towards his angel, almost as if the boy was afraid that Castiel would say something embarrassing (and he could well imagine what give the way those two just  _looked_  at each other sometimes). The angel, however, merely looked thoughtful before nodding once.  
  
"I see," Castiel stated evenly.  
  
"No objections then?" Gwen asked, looking at him and Samuel.  
  
"Like I'd recognize a movie from its title," Bobby huffed. "But I'll give it a go."  
  
"It sounds implausible, but that's never stopped Hollywood, so sure," Samuel replied.  
  
"Great, I'll go get it," Sam said, getting up.  
  
"I need another beer," Dean announced. "Anyone else want anything?"  
  
"I'll have a whiskey," Bobby responded, carefully watching Castiel as he said so.  
  
He'd caught the archangel's displeased reaction when Sam had offered to get his brother one yesterday in what he figured was the boy's way of trying to make up in the typical Winchester way of not actually addressing the issue and now he understood why. Throughout dinner he'd been keenly aware of Dean's beer bottle and had therefore noticed that the boy was the only one of them who hadn't had a second one yet. He hadn't gotten so far into the new books yet that he knew what had happened to halt Dean's excessive drinking, but he didn't need to read it to know  _who_  was responsible for it.  
  
It wasn't until Castiel turned to meet his gaze that Bobby realized that he'd been staring and he hastily looked away. Sam had already returned with the DVD and both he and Gwen were in front of the TV, trying to figure out how the system worked as neither of them had used it before. Samuel was sitting in his armchair, looking quite pleased with himself and he couldn't help but wonder if that would remain so once the film began. Though he didn't know anything about it, Sam's brief description of it was more than enough to make him wonder if it wouldn't be far too sci-fi for the resurrected hunter to be able to follow given the huge gaps in Samuel's knowledge that still remained when it came to technology.  
  
"Hey, Gwen?" Dean called from the kitchen.  
  
"Yeah?" Gwen replied absently.  
  
"I'm gonna take a wild guess and say that the Smirnoff Ice is yours, right?"  
  
Bobby's eyebrows rose at the question even as both Gwen and Sam turned around to stare in surprise and no little shock in the direction of the kitchen. He could more than understand their reaction. After all,  _what_? There was no way that  _Dean_  could be interested in a mixed vodka drink, especially not such a sweet one.  
  
"Uh, yeah," Gwen confirmed. "Why?"  
  
"Mind if I pour a glass?"  
  
"I thought you were gonna have another beer."  
  
"Huh? Oh, it's not for me, it's for Cas. I'm pretty sure that he'll like it."  
  
Almost as if they'd practiced it, all three of them turned as one to look at the angel who now looked intrigued.  
  
"Is it similar to a sex on the beach or a blowjob?" Castiel inquired.  
  
The laughter from the kitchen easily smothered Bobby's sputtering and for that he was glad. He could honestly say that he'd never expected to hear the angel say those things and for it to happen so unexpectedly had caught him completely off-guard.  
  
"Kinda, I think," Dean replied. "Gwen?"  
  
"Yeah, sure."  
  
"Great."  
  
Bobby felt like he was an outsider, watching both his own meat suit as well as the rest of the room when Dean came back, carrying the three drinks. He automatically accepted his own but couldn't help but watch in fascination as Castiel sipped his Smirnoff Ice before smiling and approving of it.  
  
Apparently angels liked vodka, who knew?  
  
By then Sam had figured out the DVD player as the usual opening warnings had started but Bobby couldn't help but glance back at the love seat and he frowned when he witnessed Dean holding his hands in midair, making strange gestures even as the boy looked at the TV. "Uh, Dean?" he questioned.  
  
"Huh?" Dean asked before seeing what he was looking at. "Oh, I'm just grooming one of Cas' wings."  
  



	158. Chapter 157

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raphael thinks about demons, Hell and his Father.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
Raphael loved watching Michael work. His oldest brother had always had a certain effortlessness and grace to most of what he did that had fascinated him from the very moment of his own creation. Indeed, the times where he could recall Michael struggling with something were few and far in-between. It was probably for the best as those memories tended to not be particularly pleasant ones that he enjoyed recalling.  
  
Michael's present task was one the few exceptions to that rule, though. What his brother did now was not effortless or graceful, but Raphael still couldn't help but admire the sheer confidence and certainty with which Michael went about his task. It was not something that his brother did often- had hardly ever done before actually- so he'd deliberately ensured that he could observe as much of it as possible this time, not knowing when (or indeed even  _if_ ) he would ever be able to do so again. It wasn't that Michael's current task was so difficult as to hopelessly strain his brother (though it definitely was not something that he thought even another archangel could achieve, with the one possible exception of Lucifer once upon a time, though not anymore), but rather that there was usually no  _point_  in doing it.  
  
Now, however, there was. Raziel's spell required the results of it; the tears of a demon.  
  
Raphael moved forwards slightly to better see the demon that his brother had chosen to work on. He didn't think that there was anything particularly special about the demon and he actually believed that lesser demons were better, as the ones that were important enough to be known by name or to have distinguished themselves from the masses were generally more evil. Not only would that make the task far more difficult to achieve, but it would also mean that the demon was far less worthy of it. Not that he believed that any demons were actually worthy of receiving this honor, hence the reason that Michael almost never performed his current task. The first time that his brother had done it was simply to see if it was even possible.  
  
They'd needed to know if souls demonized by Lucifer could still be saved by Michael.  
  
It turned out that they could, if only through extreme effort and concentration on his oldest brother's part. Raphael could easily recall his joy and pride when Michael had first achieved it. The process of giving a damned soul salvation- of saving it from the taint and ruination of Hell- was a miraculous event and one that had been celebrated throughout Heaven. Though no one had been willing to utter it, most had feared that even Father's firstborn would not have been able to save a demonized soul.  
  
The debate of whether the damned actually  _deserved_  such salvation had started soon afterwards and Raphael's initial views on the matter had never wavered during those discussions. He'd always been of the opinion that those souls which allowed themselves to fall to darkness and be demonized didn't deserve a second chance. They'd had the opportunity to live right and gain entry into Heaven and they had squandered it in one way or another. It wasn't until very recently, with Castiel offering Dean as an example, that he'd begun to doubt his strong convictions on the issue. What his little brother had told him about the state of his new bond brother's soul in Hell gnawed at him.  
  
To think of Dean, a soul so unbelievably bright as to awe even him, as demonized was almost painful for Raphael. His immediate reaction had been that his new bond brother didn't deserve to be in Hell, that Dean had only come to be there because of a deal he'd made with a crossroads demon, but he knew that the way a soul got into Hell made absolutely no difference to what happened to it once it was there. The end result was the same regardless of whether or not the soul actually deserved to be in Hell in the first place.  
  
His train of thought made Raphael shift uncomfortably, which only served to make him feel even more disturbed than he already was. It was such a human reaction and while he no longer viewed humans with either the condescension or disgust that he had before, it was still perturbing to find himself acting or reacting like one of them. Dean had clearly been a greater influence on him than he'd realized. Which wasn't necessarily a bad thing given how Father had clearly favored the changes that his new bond brother had wrought within Castiel, but what did that mean for all the rest that he now felt?  
  
Because for the first time since his creation, Raphael was feeling  _doubt_.  
  
Doubt in the Plan, doubt in the way that things were and doubt about Hell. If Hell damned indiscriminately, then Raphael would have wanted it so that only those who truly deserved to be there could get in and not also those who were merely guilty of trying to be noble and brave. The fact that it wasn't like that was the source of his doubt and he wasn't sure of how to either feel about that or deal with it.  
  
Instead of attempting to do either, Raphael returned his attention to his brother once more. Michael had been fully focused on the demon and his task, but he could tell that his brother was starting to pull back, probably to take a short break. Though it wasn't crippling for Michael, the process did seem to drain his brother and Michael was wisely taking his time and spacing it out. Now, however, they were getting close as the demon tears were required in the potion to be administered this very evening. He wasn't going to ask, though, as he knew that Michael was well aware of this fact.  
  
His brother was close, very close, as the taint to the demon was already significantly less than before and Raphael knew that it wouldn't take much more before Michael would be able to make the soul see all that it had lost by damning itself. It was at that point, where they saw the Light of Heaven and truly realized all that they had forsaken and lost, that the demons cried.  
  
"You are upset, Brother," Michael stated as he came to stand beside him.  
  
Raphael felt a little annoyed with himself that he had allowed that to slip when his brother had better things to focus on, but he knew better than to believe that he could distract Michael now, at least outright. "I have been... thinking about something."  
  
"They must be weighty thoughts indeed to have upset you so."  
  
A glance at his brother showed that Michael wasn't fooled in the least and Raphael wondered why he ever even bothered anymore. Both Gabriel and Jophiel had always told him that stubbornness was his greatest flaw, though, so he supposed that was why he kept trying. "I was thinking of Hell. Do you believe that we should do this more? Save the damned?"  
  
"It would not work for the worst of the demons, or I do not think that it would. At least not those beyond a certain level of strength or taint. Besides, I would not be able to keep up with the rate at which demons are created."  
  
"No, I suppose you are right, Brother."  
  
Michael seemed to hesitate for a moment before speaking. "A few months ago Dean was asking me about Hell as well."  
  
"Oh? What about it?"  
  
"He was questioning why Father allowed it to exist at all."  
  
Something about the way Michael that said it made Raphael look at his brother sharply. No, it couldn't be, could it? Was  _Michael_  doubting? If his eldest brother- Father's  _firstborn_ \- was doing so, then was there any of his siblings left who wouldn't do so if given enough time and incentive? He had to fight off the instinctive reaction to cry out against the mere idea of such behavior, even if he was experiencing it himself. It still tasted and felt like rebellion and failure to him.  
  
"You no longer feel that you know the answer to that," Raphael finally stated.  
  
"No, I do not."  
  
The silence was heavy and Raphael wished to flee, but he knew that this was something that they had to confront. All of his life, since the very moment of his creation, he'd never questioned that entertaining these kinds of thoughts was blasphemy and a crime punishable by the severest of sentences. Once that would have been right as he had seen it transpire with his own two eyes, but now, however, now everything seemed to have changed. Instead of being punished, those who doubted and questioned were rewarded while those who acted as before were punished.  
  
Raphael wished that Father would simply tell them what it was that He wanted of them. They would gladly obey.  
  
"What are we supposed to do, Michael?" Raphael finally asked.  
  
"What we are. What is right."  
  
"But how do we know what is right?"  
  
"I do not believe we can know that for certain," Michael replied heavily. "I believe that we must decide for ourselves what we think is right and then act upon it."  
  
The mere idea frightened Raphael to his very core. "You are speaking of free will."  
  
"Yes, I am."  
  
"But..."  
  
Michael turned to look at him and Raphael took strength from his brother's gaze. They had stood together and fought together and he would follow his brother anywhere, had followed him here to this point after it appeared that Father had forsaken them and he wouldn't stop doing so now, difficult though the path may seem.  
  
"I know, Brother, I know," Michael said softly. "But we are not alone."  
  
With those words, Michael returned his attention to the demon and Raphael stayed to watch, pondering his brother's words and the path before them.  
  


* * *

  
  
It wasn't until Kelly jumped and shrieked that Raphael remembered that normal humans were unable to hear his wings and therefore know that he had arrived. He had become far too used to his new bond brother being able to do so that he had inadvertently frightened the human he had come to see.  
  
"My apologies," Raphael said, stepping back. "It was not my intention to scare you."  
  
"You shouldn't sneak up on people like that," Kelly replied, a hand to her chest. "You'll frighten someone to death."  
  
"That is not possible. You are not being serious."  
  
Raphael could tell from the way that her lips twitched that he had said something amusing without intending to do so. It annoyed him slightly but also made him wonder if he would ever fully understand humans and the way that they utilized language. It often made no rational sense whatsoever.  
  
"Well you could scare someone into having a heart attack."  
  
"Your heart is not susceptible to this at your current age."  
  
"Ah, that's always good to know, I guess."  
  
"You wished to speak with me?"  
  
"I- Yes. The reverend and I have been speaking about what happened and what you told us and we want to help."  
  
"Help?" Raphael questioned, startled.  
  
"Yes. Surely you need all the help that you can get?"  
  
"Neither of you is trained for combat or hunting."  
  
"I know, but isn't there anything else that we can do?"  
  
"Are you Catholic?"  
  
"What? No, Protestant. Is that wrong?"  
  
"Those distinctions are purely human, neither Father nor Heaven sees a difference. The only reason I ask is because the Catholic church is already aware of the Apocalypse. If you and the reverend truly wish to help, then you can do the most good by ensuring that all of your Protestant churches have adequate protections in place. Should anything overtly demonic happen in the area, that is where most people will flee to for protection."  
  
"Okay. What do we need to do?"  
  
"Consecrate the grounds. Though this will not stop all demons, it will keep the majority of them out. Then lay down salt lines where possible and Devil's Traps near the entrances," Raphael instructed, stopping to draw her an example of the latter. "This is what you need to draw."  
  
"Does it have to be done with anything in particular?"  
  
"No, but something permanent is preferable. I have seen Dean inscribe them on the bottom of rugs and doormats, thereby trapping the demons as they are crossing a room or seeking entrance."  
  
"Good idea, thanks."  
  
Raphael hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should bring it up, but he knew for a fact that Kelly had experience with what he was currently struggling with. And, unlike Dean, she was unlikely to figure out why he was questioning her on the matter.  
  
"Kelly, when you doubted..." Raphael began uncertainly, trailing off.  
  
"I don't! Not anymore, I promise, I-"  
  
"That is not what I meant. I wished to know what you did- how you acted- and what you felt when you doubted."  
  
Kelly frowned. "I don't understand."  
  
"I wish to understand what it is like."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"The more I spend time with humans, the more I realize that I only understand you poorly. This has adversely impacted my ability to communicate with you."  
  
Though all that he said was true, it was not the true reason for why he was asking and it made Raphael feel odd to deliberately perpetuate the deception he knew that Kelly Goodwin would take from this. He failed to see how anything good could come from it. Was that also something he had to learn to understand?  
  
"Oh, okay," Kelly replied thoughtfully. "I suppose that the first thing I felt was betrayal."  
  
"Betrayal? Why?"  
  
"Because I had believed and had faith for so long that when I began to doubt, it felt like I'd been misled or lied to my whole life. It felt like everything that I had believed in was all for nothing. It made me feel empty."  
  
"That is why you became angry, as a reaction to this perceived betrayal?"  
  
"Yes. I know it was wrong, but it was better than feeling hurt or that I'd been stupid or naive enough to have been misled for so long."  
  
"And now?"  
  
"Now I feel embarrassed and ashamed," Kelly admitted wryly. "My faith was being tested and I failed, horribly."  
  
"No, you did not."  
  
"How could I not have? I doubted and blasphemed."  
  
"But much of your sense of doubt and betrayal was based on erroneous information. Information that is not in line with what Father truly believes and thus you were right to question it."  
  
"I thought to have true faith was to never question anything."  
  
Raphael frowned. "Who told you that?"  
  
"I don't know, but it's not exactly an uncommon sentiment. Those who try to question or reason out God's plans are often told not to do so, to just take it all on faith."  
  
"As I have said before, Kelly, there are a lot of inaccurate beliefs out there about my Father and what it truly means to believe and be faithful. Religion as you know it has become more of a human construction than anything Heavenly. What you need to know is this. Father created you along with everything else that you see around you, but he also gave you free will. He does not give such gifts lightly and when He gave humanity this particular one, it was with the expectation that you would utilize it."  
  
"So what is the right way to act then?"  
  
"That I cannot answer for you," Raphael replied. "What I can say now is that Dean Winchester, Father's Righteous Man and the one prophesized to help end this Apocalypse, has never been what anyone- human or angel- would call religious. He never had faith or even believed in Father's existence."  
  
"He was an atheist?"  
  
"Yes. Until he first met Castiel, Dean did not even believe in the existence of angels and I am told that it took him a while to accept it even then."  
  
"So why was he chosen then?"  
  
"Because he was righteous and noble, dedicating his life to helping others and fighting the evil that plagues you. And he did all of it without the ulterior motive of believing that it would earn him a place in Heaven when he died."  
  
It was as he said the words that Raphael began to realize something else as well. A lot of what he had just described could be applied to  _Castiel_  as well. His little brother had acted on what Castiel had genuinely believed to be the right thing to do, despite what his brothers and sisters had been telling him. He knew from one talk which he'd had with the former Seraph that Castiel had gone beyond mere doubt during his quest to help the Winchesters to outright loss of faith in their Father but that hadn't truly resulted in his little brother abandoning his commitment to what Castiel had viewed as the right thing to do.  
  
Was that what he was supposed to do? Did Father want them to prove to Him that they would follow through on what was right and just even without His guidance there to keep them on track and committed to the cause?  
  
It was something for Raphael to think about, even if the very idea of being so separated from his Father's guidance and orders scared him.  
  


* * *

  
  
This time when Raphael flew into the room he not only remembered that those present wouldn't immediately be aware of his presence, but he was counting on it as well. It was why he landed off to one side, in the direction that neither Sam Winchester nor his cousin Gwen Campbell was looking. Castiel had told him of the argument that had taken place between Dean and his brother the day after the first part of the spell and how much it had affected his new bond brother.  
  
It had made Raphael want to fly off right away and teach the younger Winchester exactly what happened to those who treated his family in that manner but he had restrained himself, although only after Castiel had reminded him that regardless of what Sam Winchester had done, he was still Dean's brother and that Dean wouldn't want him to injure Sam. It had grated, but he had acquiesced, though he knew that he was not as restricted as Castiel about what he could and couldn't do to Sam. Although he wouldn't permanently injure or even hurt the foolish and ungrateful human, he would find ways to make life as difficult as possible for Sam Winchester until such a time as Dean personally requested that he stopped.  
  
Raphael sincerely hoped that never happened.  
  
He honestly couldn't say what he had expected to overhear by arriving in this manner and observing Sam Winchester without the human's knowledge, but it definitely wasn't what Raphael heard. The words and, more importantly, the manner and attitude with which they were said were so unexpected and yet so  _hauntingly familiar_  that it served to render him speechless. At first glance the conversation didn't seem all that important, merely an argument between two people who disagreed on something, but it was the subtext that made it so horrifically familiar to him and he couldn't quite believe it.  
  
Now that it had occurred to him, though, Raphael couldn't believe that he hadn't thought about it before. Why wouldn't Dean's brother be affected like this? He'd witnessed firsthand that it was possible by seeing the exact same thing happen between Michael and his new bond brother ever since Dean had first said yes to his oldest brother several months ago. He'd naively thought that it was a phenomenon unique to them because he had never observed it before, but there was a perfectly reasonable and logical explanation for that.  
  
Michael and Lucifer were different from all other angels when it came to the manner in which that they interacted with their vessels. So that was why he had never seen it in any other angel or vessel before.  
  
Until now.  
  
With Lucifer and Sam Winchester.  
  



	159. Chapter 158

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raphael shares his revelation with the others.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
"Ready to go?" Dean asked his grandfather and Bobby when he came down the stairs to join them.  
  
"Beyond feeling like I'm forgetting something because I don't have anything with me, sure," Bobby replied.  
  
"It is odd not needing to gather everything ourselves," Samuel agreed. "But also kind of nice."  
  
Dean laughed. "Yeah, well given the amount of hemlock we need for this potion and just where you get a bezoar, I'm quite glad not to have to get it all this time."  
  
"Good points," Bobby agreed.  
  
"Either of you know where Sam is?"  
  
"He was in the living room with Gwen a few minutes ago," Samuel replied uncomfortably.  
  
"Something wrong?" Dean asked, tensing.  
  
His grandfather sighed. "Your brother was being difficult again. I swear, there are times when I wonder how he can be Mary's son, he's just like a clone of your father occasionally."  
  
The words made Dean's stomach clench but he forced himself to relax. He'd gotten better at letting his brother's words and actions roll off him since their first big argument a few days ago, but he'd come to accept that it would never just be easy or painless.  
  
"I'll go get them," Dean said once he was sure he had control of his voice.  
  
It was best for everyone if he got Sam past whatever mood his brother was in before his new bond brothers and husband arrived. Though Castiel hadn't said anything, he knew his angel was longing to put Sam in his place for the way his brother had upset him. He was grateful for his husband's restraint but knew that it wouldn't last forever either, especially since there was a part of him (small but growing steadily) that would not only not object, but delight in it as well. It was the same part that had been unable to not be amused by Raphael's stunt with the flying and 'failing' to cushion Sam.  
  
"Gwen, Sam," Dean called out, hearing the raised voices as he approached the living room. "It's nearly time to g- oh, hey, Raph."  
  
The way both his brother and Gwen spun about at his words, scanning the room, told Dean that his bond brother hadn't alerted them to his arrival. The way Sam swallowed and looked like a little kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar told him that his grandfather had been right about the nature of the argument between his brother and Gwen. He sighed and tried to force the thought from his mind, focusing his attention on his bond brother instead of his brother.  
  
Raphael's protective tendencies when it came to Sam's childish and unreasonable behavior hadn't gone unnoticed but Dean just wasn't quite sure how to deal with it. He'd never been the recipient of that kind of attention before, always having been the big brother himself and the son of someone who'd had to rely on him to take care of not only Sam, but himself as well. So yeah, being protected like this, or having someone wanting to do so who wasn't his husband was odd. He had no doubt though that both Michael and Raphael would ensure that he got used to it as he couldn't see either of them giving up on it. He'd never have done so with Sam.  
  
The thought actually warmed Dean as he knew that they viewed him with the same affection and love that he'd always viewed his brother with. It was an amazing thought and one he cherished though the joy of it was short-lived as it vanished the moment he caught sight of his bond brother's face.  
  
"Raph, what's wrong?" Dean demanded, stepping forwards hastily.  
  
For lack of a better way of putting it, the archangel looked like he'd seen a ghost and it frightened Dean as he'd never seen Raphael so spooked before.  
  
"Oh, this isn't good," Gwen muttered, stepping to the door quickly. "Bobby, Samuel, I think you'd better get in here quickly."  
  
"Raph?" Dean questioned again, laying his hand on his bond brother's shoulder.  
  
That seemed to finally get through to the archangel and Raphael turned to look at Dean, a troubled expression on his face. "We missed something rather obvious."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
Dean would have said more but just then the room went from being merely occupied to crowded as Bobby and Samuel arrived at the same time Michael and Castiel did.  
  
"I thought we were meeting outside," Castiel said before his stance stiffened. "What is wrong, Brother?"  
  
"Okay, will someone please explain what's going on here?" Samuel demanded as Michael reacted as well, moving to Raphael's other side.  
  
"It is Sam Winchester," Raphael began, drawing everyone's attention that way.  
  
"What about me?" Sam snapped, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.  
  
"What you were saying-"  
  
"Was none of your business. Eavesdropping is impolite and eavesdroppers never hear anything that they like."  
  
"Dude, seriously?" Dean demanded. "You still haven't figured out that angels have absolutely no concept of privacy?"  
  
"You seem to get it."  
  
"Yeah, because I've earned it!"  
  
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"  
  
"It means that we honor Dean's request for it as we respect him. Well, we honor it mostly," Michael replied with a fond smile. "Sometimes it's too much fun to resist ignoring it."  
  
"Pervert," Dean muttered.  
  
"Like when?" Gwen inquired, curious.  
  
"Like in the early morning or the middle of the night. Dean can be... adorable when still half asleep."  
  
"Hey! I'm  _not_  adorable!" Dean exclaimed indignantly. "And don't even  _think_  about saying what I know you're thinking, Cas."  
  
"Michael, Castiel, we overlooked something important," Raphael stated, instantly washing away the good mood. "Something that we should not have."  
  
"What is it, Brother?" Castiel asked.  
  
When his husband stepped closer, Dean was suddenly surrounded by wings on most sides. Both Michael and Castiel reached out towards Raphael with theirs and, standing next to the archangel, he was enfolded as well. The only gap in the circle of feathers around them that would otherwise have cocooned them off from the rest of the world was between Michael and Castiel, allowing all of them to keep an eye on Sam. The way his brother was watching them told him that Sam knew that something more was going on than what his brother could see and he wouldn't be surprised if the way his brother's eyes were darting between the three archangels had something to do with a futile attempt to try and view their wings. Although Sam's reaction to his explanation of what he'd been doing last night while watching the movie had looked nonchalant at first glance, to his practiced eye it had all but screamed jealousy and he sighed. He'd been unable to stop wondering if Sam hadn't mentally been bemoaning the fact that his brother couldn't see them with each and every look Sam had thrown his way the rest of the evening. He'd wanted to believe otherwise but the way his brother's eyes had lingered on his fingers as he groomed Castiel's wings had left him in little doubt of his conclusion.  
  
They didn't have time for that now though so Dean turned his attention back to Raphael instead, letting the others worry about Sam for a change.  
  
"What he was saying and his attitude," Raphael finally continued, relaxing fractionally under the combined support of his family. "It was all like Lucifer."  
  
" _What_?" Dean demanded, eyes going wide, a sentiment echoed by some of the others and he could sense more than hear Bobby shifting into a ready position.  
  
"Wh- I- How dare you!" Sam exclaimed, face clouding over. "I am  _not_  Lucifer!"  
  
"No, of course you are not," Castiel replied dismissively. "That we would have sensed long ago."  
  
"What do you mean, Raphael?" Michael inquired, glancing between the two.  
  
"Do you remember during the Rebellion when you and Lucifer fought, what he said to you? How he tried to justify his treason and tempt you to follow in his path and join him? And all that he'd said before, in the time leading up to the Rebellion?"  
  
"Yes, of course."  
  
The pain that Dean could practically  _feel_  emanating from his friend at those words made him reach out and gently squeeze the tip of the chocolate brown wing that was near his shoulder, easily distinguishable from Castiel and Raphael's midnight colored wings. He couldn't reach Michael himself from where he stood, ensconced between his husband and other bond brother, but he could tell the sentiment had been received and appreciated from the way his friend flexed his wing so the feathers caressed his shoulder and neck.  
  
"He sounded like that," Raphael stated, clearly still shaken. "The reasoning, the arrogance and the certainty that he was right; it was all exactly like how Lucifer sounded back then. So very prideful."  
  
The words were like bullets, each one striking home with deadly precision and Dean flinched back, right into a wall of feathers. The wings pressed back against him, soothing and supportive and he had absolutely no idea whose wings they were, but he didn't care, more than happy to take the proffered comfort from any of them.  
  
"Just what are you saying?" Bobby demanded shakily from somewhere behind him.  
  
The words were all that was needed to break the spell and Dean's eyes darted to look at his brother. Sam looked as stunned and horrified as he himself felt and he was unbelievably grateful for that small favor. With the way that things had been going, a part of him wouldn't have been so that surprised if his brother had simply shrugged it all off. The fact that Sam was still with it enough to be so horrified at the idea was an immense relief, though he was sure that the denial wouldn't be far behind. It was the Winchester way after all. He only wished that he could do so as well but Michael's memories of that horrendous, faithful day when Lucifer had rebelled were far too fresh for him to ever be able to even attempt it.  
  
"Castiel?" Bobby prodded again.  
  
"I am not sure," Castiel replied and Dean felt a hand come to rest on the small of his back. "Raphael?"  
  
Before his bond brother could reply, Michael stepped away from the group and moved towards Sam. Dean saw his brother startle and try to step away but it was already too late and Michael had hold of his brother's arm.  
  
"What are you doing?" Sam demanded, trying to pull himself free as Michael raised two fingers to his forehead. "Let me go. Don't touch me!"  
  
His friend completely ignored Sam, though, and Dean's breath caught in his throat as Michael touched his brother. He wasn't quite sure what his bond brother was doing, but he was afraid of the outcome nonetheless. Given what Raphael had just said he didn't think that there could be any possible happy ending here. Somehow, some way, his brother had changed enough to become akin to  _Lucifer_  of all people and not just in the vague kinda way that Gabriel had once described while trapped in a circle of Holy fire in an abandoned warehouse. That had never held much significance as far as he was concerned as it could have applied to any number of siblings across the country, let alone the rest of the world. This, however, this was completely different and Raphael was definitely spooked enough for him to not even doubt the veracity of the archangel's claim, horrible as it was.  
  
"Michael?" Samuel asked, an edge of warning in his voice when Sam whimpered.  
  
"He's not hurting him," Dean stated, not taking his eyes off his two brothers.  
  
"Then what is he doing?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
The silence that met that declaration was quite telling and Dean hoped that they took it to heart. He'd not spent any time really thinking about just how much- indeed if at all- his old family trusted his new one and he now realized that he probably should have. They'd all have to work together if they were going to end this damn Apocalypse in the way that they wanted to and they simply couldn't afford any more discord or suspicion within their own group. Sam was already doing enough of that for all of them combined and then some.  
  
"Mike?" Dean asked when his archangel finally stepped back and released Sam.  
  
"His soul looks normal and is not displaying any signs of the fusion that yours does from what happened to us," Michael replied.  
  
"Oh, good."  
  
Dean had to admit that he hadn't even thought of that though, as Raphael had said, he probably should have. It was a stupid oversight to make, especially given that he'd been one of the people to experience what that felt like and how powerful of a connection it was. Not to mention just how big of an influence it had been on him and his behavior. He shuddered to think of precisely what Sam might have done if Lucifer had influenced his brother in a similar manner. Somehow he thought that it would make all that Sam had done while on the demon blood with Ruby pale in comparison.  
  
"Now just hold on a goddamn minute," Bobby thundered. "What the hell do you mean, the fusion that Dean's soul has from you? What happened?"  
  
"It's nothing, Bobby," Dean said.  
  
"It sure as hell doesn't sound like nothing to me. What did you do, ya idjit?"  
  
Unfortunately this was a conversation for which he actually needed to be able to see the other hunter, so Dean reluctantly stepped away from Castiel and Raphael in order to be able to see around their wings. "It wasn't something that we planned on."  
  
"I definitely hope not!" Samuel exclaimed.  
  
"It was a side effect of performing the Rite of Contressa," Castiel explained. "When Michael and Dean did it while both in Dean's body, the power of the rite brought them even closer together than mere angels and vessels normally are, even for Michael."  
  
"And it caused Dean's soul to fuse somehow?" Gwen asked. "To what?"  
  
"Michael's Grace."  
  
"So let me get this straight, the two of them basically started melding into one and you didn't think it important to tell us this before?" Sam demanded, throwing Dean a suspicious look. "How the hell do we even know that he's still my brother anymore? He's not been acting right since he came back."  
  
"See what I mean about how warped his thinking has gotten?" Raphael pointed out, looking at him and the other two archangels. "Reminiscent of Lucifer, isn't it?"  
  
Dean clung to those words and tried to use them as a shield to protect against the hurt of Sam's accusations. Perhaps that wasn't his brother talking at all, perhaps it was the devil speaking through Sam somehow? Much as he'd love to believe that, he couldn't help but recall his husband's earlier comment of how they'd have noticed right away if Lucifer were actually hiding in Sam right now. No, whatever this was, it was far less than the complete possession which would be the only good excuse for all the hurtful things that his brother had said ever since their reunification.  
  
"Yes," Castiel responded, head tilted as he observed Sam. "I do not see how I missed it before."  
  
" _I am_ not _Lucifer!_ " Sam all but screamed, face red.  
  
"If anything that makes the situation even worse," Michael replied calmly. "As it means that you still retain your free will and have done all of this of your own volition. At least if you were truly being possessed by my brother, then you would have a valid excuse for your behavior."  
  
What Michael said was so similar to his own thoughts that it threw Dean for a moment. In the end though it only served to highlight the crucial point of both of their thoughts. You didn't need an ongoing possession- or whatever the appropriate word was for what he and Michael had as possession just wasn't right on any level whatsoever- in order for there to be a continued influence. But what Michael said was right, without it there was absolutely no excuse for the way that his brother had been behaving.  
  
"Okay, time out. Just what are you guys saying,  _exactly_ ," Gwen questioned, stepping forwards. "Because it might make sense to you guys, but not to the rest of us."  
  
"They're saying that Dean isn't himself anymore," Sam replied. "They're saying that he's Michael's puppet."  
  
In the blink of an eye Raphael stood before Sam and had fisted his hands into his brother's clothing. "Your brother isn't the one who's being someone's puppet here, Sam Winchester."  
  
"Whoa, Raph!" Dean exclaimed, stepping forwards hurriedly. "Trust me, that's not gonna help."  
  
"Your brother aggravates me," Raphael stated.  
  
"The feeling is more than mutual at the moment, but physical force isn't going to do anything more than make him feel even more justified in his opinions."  
  
"Damn right it will!" Sam snarled as soon as he was released. "What's wrong,  _Raph_? Can't get your way so you throw a temper tantrum? How mature."  
  
"Oh shut up, Sam!" Dean snapped, turning on his brother. "If anyone's being childish here it's you. Grow up already. You think you're so smart and have it all figured out, don't you? Well if that's so then why are you reminding people of Lucifer, huh?"  
  
"I-" Sam began and broke off, shock and rage warring for dominance on his face.  
  
Dean would be lying if he said that he didn't get an immense sense of satisfaction from just letting his brother have it or for rendering Sam speechless. "You'd think that you'd have learned better after everything that happened with Ruby, but you really haven't, have you?"  
  
"I did!"  
  
"Then why are you acting exactly the same as you did back then?"  
  
"I- I'm not."  
  
"Is that a statement or a question? 'Cause it sounds like a question to me."  
  
"He's right, Sam," Bobby said softly. "You  _are_  acting like you did back then."  
  
 _That_  seemed to finally get through his brother's thick skull and Dean couldn't help but feel glad. If he'd known that it would take a united front, then he'd have organized this long ago, but he hadn't thought it would be that simple. Not that it really was, at least not without Raphael's revelation.  
  
"As for what Raph and the others are saying, it's quite simple. Being a vessel to Michael or Lucifer is different from being a vessel to any other angel. With the others- except for the other archangels- the vessel pretty much gets pushed down within their own meatsuit and has only minimal awareness of what's going on. With the other archangels the vessel gets burned out of existence. With Mike and Lucy, though, the vessel can be made aware of everything that is going on around them and is able to interact with Mike or Lucy should they wish to do so."  
  
"Okay, so Michael keeps you aware?" Samuel asked.  
  
"I would, but it's not necessary," Michael replied. "For some reason Dean is able to regain consciousness on his own."  
  
"I take it that's not normal," Bobby said.  
  
"No, it is not."  
  
"Dean, it seems, is incapable of following even that rule," Raphael commented with wry amusement.  
  
"Oh, bite me, Raph," Dean retorted. "And don't ask me how I do it because I don't know. It just happened the first time Mike took me as his vessel and since then we've been able to ensure that I don't even lose consciousness at all."  
  
"What does all of this have to do with what you guys were talking about earlier? With what Raphael was saying?" Gwen asked.  
  
"In being aware as Dean is and as Lucifer was able to make Sam whenever he wanted to, it opens them up to being influenced," Castiel explained.  
  
"What do you mean, influenced?" Sam demanded sharply.  
  
Part of him wanted to snap at his brother for being so rude to his husband, but the rest of Dean was rejoicing. The others might not be able to tell but a lifetime of practically living in each other's pockets had allowed him to become intimately acquainted with each and every one of Sam's tones and that meant he could clearly hear the hint of fear and uncertainty in his brother's voice right now. Although he didn't want to scare Sam, he knew that nothing else was likely to get the desired results anymore. Not with all that had already happened and just how good his brother had gotten at deluding himself about precisely what it was that was going on here.  
  
"The closeness between an aware vessel and their angel is nearly unfathomable for anyone who has not been in that position," Castiel replied. "The vessel is open in a way that humans normally never are, soul to angelic Grace. One cannot be that close to someone else without being affected by it. Dean and Michael say that they can share feelings and thoughts as easily as most people share glances."  
  
"So, basically, you're saying that Michael's closer to your boyfriend than you are," Sam sneered.  
  
The wings closing around his shoulder and pulling him closer was not at all unexpected and Dean went with it, sending the mental equivalent of a hug along the bond to his husband. It wasn't truly needed as he didn't feel any insecurity or anything remotely similar from his bond mate, but he wanted to do it nonetheless.  
  
"Dean and I share a profound bond of our own and have in some form ever since I gripped him tight and raised him from Perdition. Our relationship has never been normal in any manner whatsoever," Castiel replied evenly.  
  
"Stop deflecting and avoiding the truth, Sam," Dean ordered.  
  
"What truth?"  
  
"That you've allowed Lucifer to influence your thoughts and actions," Raphael stated bluntly. "You have taken some of my brother's worst characteristics and adopted them as your own. His pride, arrogance, self-righteousness and easy derision of all those who disagree with you."  
  
"But he was cleansed," Bobby interrupted. "He went through countless spells and rituals to do so. Why didn't they cleanse him of this?"  
  
"Because this is not some taint that lingers on his body and soul," Michael explained. "This is a voluntary, if perhaps subconscious, decision that Sam made for himself. No cleansing spell or ritual out there can strip him of that, or rather none that do not make use of the dark arts."  
  
"This can only be done in the same way in which it was done," Castiel added. "Through Sam's own free will. Only this time with a conscious rejection of Lucifer's influence now that he has been made aware of it."  
  



	160. Chapter 159

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next part of Raziel's ritual to free Sam from being constantly open as Lucifer's vessel.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
Once he had prepared the potion this part of Raziel's ritual required, Michael stepped back. They had decided back before Dean had even gone to stay at the Campbell's that it would be best if his vessel performed this particular part. As there was no special requirement or innate magic necessary, simply the ability to carry out a slightly more complex spell that would help purify Sam's body of the link it had created with Lucifer upon first joining with his brother, Castiel had thought it would work best if Dean were the one to perform it as Sam was most likely to trust his own brother most when it came to accepting the accompanying potion that was three quarters hemlock, a highly poisonous substance for humans.  
  
At the time Michael had agreed with his brother's reasoning as it had made logical sense. Now, however, he had his doubts after having observed Sam interacting with his vessel. It was clear that something was adversely affecting their relationship because it was clearly not like what he'd heard it should be. Sure, he'd already known to expect some of that given the way in which Sam Winchester had betrayed Dean, abandoning his brother on a whim, but this was still a far greater divide than he had been expecting.  
  
Raphael's realization earlier in the day had gone a long way towards explaining that behavior, but Michael wasn't yet sure that it would be enough to help mend things between the two brothers. He had, after all, observed that there was often a large gap between knowing something and accepting it. And he wasn't just thinking about humans either, much as he wished that he were. He could only hope that Sam Winchester wouldn't simply write off all that they had told him and continue on as he was, following in Lucifer's footsteps. He wasn't entirely sure what would happen if the boy did. Beyond devastating Dean, it would force some very tough decisions on them, ones that he'd much rather his vessel never had to face for himself, knowing from personal experience how difficult they could be. He would do all that he could to ensure those events never transpired, even if it meant that he had to come up with some means of making Sam Winchester see reason.  
  
The rhythmic chanting of fluid Enochian and the feel of magic beginning to spark and crackle in the air drew Michael back to the present and he dismissed his brother's vessel in favor of watching his own. He'd thought it many times now, but Dean truly was magnificent, especially in situations like this where his human was fully focused on the task at hand, mind and soul united in concentration, both boosting the other, shining strong and bright.  
  
To hear the language of Heaven- of home- rolling so easily and fluidly off of Dean's tongue caused a strong swell of possessiveness to rise within Michael. Not possessiveness in the sense of thinking of his hunter as  _his_ , but rather in the sense of thinking of Dean as  _theirs_ ; as Heaven's. As angelic rather than human. It was a ridiculous thought in a lot of ways because he knew if there was one truth about his vessel it was that Dean was most definitely, and proudly, human. Yet at the same time it wasn't so farfetched at all. His little one had proven time and time again that he wasn't just some ordinary human and was actually quite capable of many things which should be purely and exclusively angelic.  
  
It was a contradiction which still fascinated Michael now as much as it had the day that he'd first realized it. On some level he hoped that he never figured the puzzle out as it was so  _Dean_  as to almost make him hesitate to try and solve it, not wanting to make his human seem any less precious or amazing to him.  
  
The addition of a few drops of the potion onto the latticework of Holy oil which had been poured on the ground in an extremely complicated pattern around Sam's kneeling form caused localized flares of purple flames at the four cardinal points which rose and fell in time with the cadence of Dean's voice as his vessel continued the spell throughout. Sam's eyes were wide now and he couldn't help but wonder if the hunter could feel the effect of the power this part of the ritual was conjuring up as it started to affect his body.  
  
"I am glad that I am not performing this particular part of the ritual," Raphael whispered as his brother came to stand beside him. "Being that close to lit Holy oil? Never again, not voluntarily anyway."  
  
Michael could easily sympathize with his brother's physical reaction to the mere thought, knowing only all too well what the bite of those flames felt like from countless battles past. He would have done it, though, if Dean had not wanted to perform this part of the ritual. It was a controlled situation and he knew that he'd be released from the fiery prison that was about to ensnare both Sam and his brother as soon as this part of the ritual was done. Still, he was happy not to have to.  
  
"What-" Raphael began and then hesitated. "What did you do with the demon after you had collected its tears? One of the garrisons hunting the demons that escaped when Lucifer broke the seal to Hell required assistance and I was unable to stay."  
  
The question made Michael frown as it caused uncertainty and doubt to rise within him. He used the excuse provided by the lighting of the rest of the Holy oil to not respond right away. Even now he wasn't entirely certain why he had done what he had, nor was he sure that he'd made the right decision. He despised feeling this way and wondered not for the first time how humans managed to live like this their entire lives, never truly knowing what it was that Father wanted or expected of them. The knowledge that what he had done in the past had always been right had tempted him to follow that same route this time, but he had resisted doing so, knowing it would have been an excuse to evade the true question he faced.  
  
Namely what was truly the right thing to do?  
  
Part of his hesitance came from the fact that Michael didn't really feel qualified to be able to answer that question. It was something that he'd never before spent much time pondering as he'd always  _known_  what was right and what was wrong as his Father had told him or made it clear to him through other means. To have to figure it out on his own was difficult, to say the least. Therefore he hadn't left it entirely up to himself, but he'd rather done what he'd seen Castiel do and used Dean as his moral compass. Though his hunter had no love for demons, he had that one conversation with his vessel about the existence and purpose of Hell to go on. There his vessel had made it clear that Dean disliked the vicious cycle that was Hell, demons and the damned souls that were doomed there.  
  
Michael was mostly sure that his precious human would approve of what he had done. He could only hope that his Father would as well.  
  
"I finished the restoration of its human soul and allowed it entrance into Heaven," Michael finally replied quietly.  
  
The silence that followed his words was quite telling and when Michael risked a glance at his brother it was to find Raphael staring at him in astonishment. Thankfully, though, he couldn't detect any traces of either disapproval or disappointment within his brother's Grace. Instead Raphael's shock and surprise were slowly transforming into a thoughtfulness and he felt something ease within himself. If Raphael couldn't fault him then at least he hadn't made an extremely bad decision. He knew that he'd have Castiel's approval as well based on his younger brother's past actions and combined with his other brother's reaction he felt himself begin to slowly relax, feeling more comfortable with his decision.  
  
Despite that, Michael resolved to go visit the newly restored soul soon, just to be sure that it had fully recovered and was now indeed worthy of Heaven.  
  


* * *

  
  
As the fire in the four cardinal pillars turned a more natural color and then suddenly flared outwards along the lines of the rest of the Holy oil, Sam bit back a cry as it felt like his own body was suddenly consumed by flames. It felt a little like the early cleansing spells had, but only a little. The rest was unlike anything that he'd ever felt before. It moved through his veins, a liquid heat that felt like fire, but which didn't burn like its namesake, not really. It was more like light in a way, warm light slowly travelling through him and changing him in some unknown way.  
  
Sam's eyes fell shut as he tried to concentrate on the weird sensation. Once he realized that it wasn't quite burning him it became easier to bear, to the point where he wasn't even entirely sure that he disliked it anymore. It just felt peculiar. Bubbly and warm, yet forceful and powerful as well, consuming all in its path that it disliked or saw as wrong. It was hard to believe that his brother was conjuring all of this with merely a potion, some Holy oil and the right words.  
  
When the chanting finally stopped, Sam opened his eyes to look at Dean once more. The Holy fire served to isolate them from the others as well as bathe them both in its heat. With the darkness that had fallen this served to give the illusion that it was just the two of them, brothers together, once more. The sound of someone shifting beyond the flames ruined the illusion a little, but when he turned his eyes back to Dean after failing to penetrate the darkness beyond the flames, his breath caught in his throat.  
  
In some ways it was as if Sam was truly seeing his brother for the first time in a long time. The light of the fire behind Dean cast part of his brother into silhouette but this was immediately countered to some extent by the light of the flames behind himself which cast a flickering, orange glow over parts of Dean's face. He had the sudden strange thought of whether this was what the souls on his brother's rack in Hell had seen, but it instantly vanished when Dean uttered a few more foreign words and the Holy fire leapt and danced in response. The words sounded like Enochian from what little he knew of the angelic language and he wondered whether his brother had merely memorized the necessary incantation for this part of the ritual or whether, like Italian, this was a language which Castiel had given Dean.  
  
Jealousy rose swift and strong within Sam at the thought and it was only because of what the others had told him earlier that he was able to recognize it for what it was. Oh, sure, he'd have known that it was jealously before, but somehow he wouldn't have realized the strength and depth of it. He wouldn't have believed it possible but for the fact that he could think back and find examples of it in his recent memory. It just felt so  _right and natural_ and that terrified the crap out of him and reigned in his first automatic reaction to just write off the criticism as either jealousy or envy on their part. The fact that one of the ways in which he would have done so would be to criticize the source of the information only helped as there he ran into yet more proof of Lucifer's influence.  
  
The realization tasted sour in Sam's mouth, but if he stopped to look at what he despised about Michael and Raphael, he couldn't find any solid, concrete basis for most of it. It was almost all based on how he  _felt_  about them and given how impersonal his previous interactions with them had been (if he'd had any real interactions with them at all!), the deeply personal feelings of betrayal and dislike simply couldn't be his own.  
  
Which meant that they had to be the devil's.  
  
Sam swallowed down the terror that threatened to engulf him at the thought that Lucifer was essentially still in him in some ways given the influence the devil had over his thoughts and actions. His fear froze as his eyes locked with Dean's, though, and that allowed him to take back enough control to push it down so that it wouldn't overpower him. The way that his brother met his gaze head-on was reassuring and like so often before in his life, he found himself drawing strength from Dean. Like this, here and now in the middle of a burning ring of protective Holy oil, it was essentially just the two of them like it had been so very often in the past. Two against the world as he'd used to like to think of them when they were younger, before either of them had taken up hunting full time and the divides between them had started to appear, steadily deepening over the years to reach their peak when he'd been away at Stanford. Things had gotten a bit better again once he'd joined Dean fulltime on the road, but even then they'd never fully regained the connection and union that they'd had before, as kids.  
  
All of that ran through Sam's head now as he looked at his big brother, completely unable to break Dean's gaze, but for the first time in a very long time, that was okay. Whatever else might be going on between them and with either of them, his big brother was here for him now and that was all that mattered at the moment. He could trust Dean and he shoved aside anything that rose within him and tried to make him think otherwise. He didn't care how strong or right it felt, it was wrong, all that he had to do was to think of all the times that his brother had been there for him throughout the years to know that with absolute certainty.  
  
Now that the Ruby connection was back in his head, Sam was also a lot more wary of anything that felt so unequivocally right and just. He could only all too clearly recall feeling those selfsame emotions back then, with her even as she manipulated and used him so easily, to trust them now that the others had said that this situation was exactly the same. Part of him rebelled at the very idea, not wanting to think that he could be misled so easily yet again, after all that had happened and how he'd promised himself that it would never happen again. Ironically it was precisely that part of him which had proven the others right as it had been determined to find proof that they were wrong and had instead failed to find even a single trace of concrete evidence that he himself was right. Instead all it had found were theories and emotions with nothing else to back them up.  
  
It had been a humbling realization and one that made Sam fill with shame. To have done it once with Ruby was bad enough, but to have done it a second time? It was inexcusable really, especially since this time he didn't even have something like the demon blood addiction to help explain how it had happened. He could only hope that the shame and horror of it all would be enough to prevent himself from simply reacting in the future. Thinking before he acted would have to become his new motto for the foreseeable future, he just hoped that he could manage it.  
  
The thought fled as Dean suddenly broke their eye contact and Sam floundered for a moment, lost, before his brother looked up once more, face grim. He was about to ask why when Dean held out the silver chalice that he'd spotted in his big brother's room the first day Dean had come to stay with them at the Campbell compound, only now it was filled with what should, by all means, be an extremely potent poison. He reached out for it without hesitation and, at his brother's nod, downed the whole thing as quickly as possible before he could think twice about it. Strangely enough it wasn't the hemlock that would have made him hesitate, but rather the demon tears. He'd had enough bad experiences with ingesting liquids of demonic origin to want to ever do so voluntarily again, but he forced himself to do so now.  
  
If this was part of what was necessary to keep Lucifer out, then Sam would do it.  
  
The absolute last thing he needed now was for the devil to be able to slip inside him once more. Sam shuddered at the mere thought of what would happen then. If having been Lucifer's vessel once had affected him so profoundly, then what would repeated exposures do? Would there even be anything of him left over in the end?  
  
At first Sam didn't feel any different, which was almost worse than if he were to be immediately consumed by blinding pain as at least then he'd know that it was working, whereas now he was just left waiting for it to strike. When another minute went by without any discernible effects, though, he started to worry. What if the demon tears weren't enough given all of the demon blood that he'd drunk in the past? Had anyone stopped to think about that? Could it be that this ritual had been intended for someone who hadn't been exposed to that since infanthood?  
  
"Uh, Dean, I don't feel anything," Sam said. "Should I?"  
  
"Just give it a moment," Dean replied calmly, watching him closely. "It'll work."  
  
"What am I supposed to fe-"  
  
Sam screamed as the pain suddenly hit him hard and fast, blossoming deep inside of him. For a moment he had the thought that the origins of the agony felt similar to where he'd been kept imprisoned when Lucifer had been in charge of his meatsuit, but then it spread and all rational thought became impossible. Pain was all that he could feel and he was only absently aware that his body had hit the ground and was twitching and jerking uncontrollably with the agony that now consumed him. It seemed to go on forever, washing through every part of him.  
  
Each time that Sam was sure that he couldn't take anymore, it seemed to get worse and he had no clue how long it all lasted before the pain finally,  _finally_  started to fade. It happened so slowly though that he wasn't quite sure when he first began to regain awareness of his surroundings. It was all vague and fuzzy and words like 'Little One' and 'Beloved' made him sure that he was hallucinating, but if that was true then it was a good hallucination as he was held up against a strong chest and the scent of his big brother filled his awareness.  
  
"Dean," Sam muttered weakly, smiling before he lost consciousness.


	161. Chapter 160

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam awakens after the latest part of Raziel's ritual.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
Awareness returned to Sam slowly as it hadn't done in years. Only, unlike the last time that he'd slept with Jess, it wasn't a nice, languid return to the land of the living, but rather a slow struggle through a molasses of uncertainty and disquiet. When he finally did manage to break free of it all it was to find himself in his bed, the sheets sweaty and hopelessly tangled around his legs.  
  
Sam simply lay there for a few moments, breathing hard and trying to sort everything out in his head. Everything from yesterday evening was a jumble and the only reason that he wasn't panicking is because Castiel had warned him ahead of time that the Abramelin oil in the potion had precisely this type of effect on humans. The pieces slowly came back together in his mind and once they had he winced, almost wishing that they hadn't. The shame and humiliation from the early part of the evening, when confronted by the entirety of his living family as well as all of Dean's archangels, was bad enough, but to regain the memory of exactly how painful last night's portion of the ritual had been was more than he needed to remember.  
  
In an effort to distract himself, Sam turned around to look at the far too quiet half of the room where Dean had been sitting the last time that he'd woken from a portion of the ritual and his heart sank when he found it not only empty, but also vacant of the chair that had stood there the last time to signify that his brother had spent the night at his side. He tried not to let that bother him too much, but it didn't seem to work. Just the idea that Dean hadn't felt it necessary to stay at his side after what he'd gone through hurt far more than he cared to think about.  
  
Automatic anger began to rise within him and Sam was already beginning to mutter under his breath about the changes in Dean when he tried to shove the sheets aside to rise. Both his movements and his mutterings stopped abruptly as his muscles screamed their pain at him. He gasped and dropped back at the unexpected sensations, limbs twitching. It took him a few seconds to recognize the pain as that which he'd felt before when he'd seized as the result of something he'd been exposed to on a hunt and it made him realize that he'd done so last night during the unimaginable pain. Which only made his big brother's absence all the more unusual and hurtful.  
  
The abrupt transition from anger to pain earlier had made Sam realize just how quickly his rage had grown within him and it made him uncomfortable now even as the anger tried to lick it's way to life within him once more. It was one of the few things which he remembered with particular clarity from his time as Lucifer's vessel, the sheer, unimaginable rage the devil felt. It had been difficult to wrap his mind around, having been the product of a non-human entity that had been nurtured by countless millennia trapped alone in a small cage in Hell. It had become so warped that he'd not fully understood what it was at first and while his own rage wasn't even so much as a grain of sand in comparison, the mere idea that having been exposed to that had altered his own anger response made him feel physically ill.  
  
Instead of giving in to his anger, Sam tried to analyze it critically. He understood  _why_  he was angry, just not why he felt the need to become so enraged over it. The entitlement that he discovered horrified him and he was up and on his knees before the trash can in an instant. Since he'd not eaten much last night, there was nothing but bile in his stomach, but his body still did it's best to try and bring it all up. Was there really no part of him that wasn't touched by Lucifer's taint and influence? Had he really taken on so many of the devil's characteristics?  
  
By the time that his stomach had finally settled, Sam's mind had already found the most likely reason as to why his brother wasn't here now. It wasn't that hard to do once he shoved aside his anger, something which was infinitely easier to do with the horror and dread that he now felt. After all, what had happened the last time that Dean had spent the night at his side? He'd woken and started a massive argument with his brother, all but attacking Dean for what he could now see was a jealous reaction to the intimacy that he'd witnessed between his brother and Michael.  
  
Intimacy.  
  
The word made Sam swallow, but he tried to look at it rationally now. When he pushed aside the emotional complications that rose within him when it came to the oldest archangel (which he now strongly suspected came from Lucifer), he was left without much to guide his interpretation of what it was that he'd witnessed. What he knew about Michael that wasn't purely religious propaganda was severely limited and was all out of date. Ironically, most of that information also came from Dean and Castiel as he'd never met the oldest archangel himself before he'd become Lucifer's vessel.  
  
The desire to write it all off as his brother having been unduly influenced by Michael just as he'd been by Lucifer was still present and Sam wasn't entirely comfortable with simply writing it off without further evidence. If nothing else he now had  _more_  proof that it was possible than ever before. After all, if he'd been so unconsciously and drastically influenced by Lucifer, then why couldn't Dean be experiencing the same with Michael? He couldn't see any reason why it shouldn't be considered, but he now realized that he needed to be more cautious in his approach and he had to also look for evidence that it wasn't the case either. Michael and Raphael did appear to have changed and Bobby also wasn't exactly a fool so if the older hunter didn't have alarm bells going off than it was entirely possible that there was nothing to worry about.  
  
Sam just wasn't comfortable taking it at face value, though. If nothing else, he knew precisely how easy it was to be maliciously influenced into doing what others wanted all the while thinking that he was doing what was right. He wouldn't let his brother make the same mistakes that he had, not given the consequences and the guilt that resulted from them.  
  
Slowly and carefully, Sam pushed himself to his feet, grimacing at the bad taste in his mouth. Once up, he began working through a series of stretches designed to loosen his limbs and hopefully get rid of most of the lingering pain that he still felt. Once he was ready, he'd go grab himself something to eat and then track down his brother and have a good long chat with Dean and see if he couldn't sort a few things out.  
  


* * *

  
  
By the time that he'd showered, dressed and eaten, Sam felt vaguely human once more and more than ready to continue on to the next item on his to-do list.  
  
"Do you know where Dean is?" Sam asked his grandfather as he carried his dishes to the sink to rinse them.  
  
"Yeah, he was muttering something about it being time to make some new ID cards, so he should be in the workshop in the barn," Samuel replied. "You sure you're feeling okay? You looked quite bad by the time we were done last night."  
  
"Oh trust me, I'm going to be feeling it all day, but it's nothing that I can't handle. I think I hallucinated though."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"Just before I fully lost consciousness I remember hearing something about a little one and a beloved."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yeah, you know what that might have been about?"  
  
"No, but you'd be best off asking Dean, your brother insisted on carrying you himself even when the angels offered to do so. Bobby, Gwen and I stuck to cleaning up and ensuring that the next people to stumble across the clearing didn't go straight to the police and blabber about bizarre rituals and unauthorized fires."  
  
Sam snorted. "That's the absolute last thing we need right now."  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"Okay, thanks, I'll ask Dean."  
  
Dishes put away in the dishwasher, Sam stepped out onto the back porch and jogged across to the old barn that the Campbells had long ago converted into various rooms for storing and creating all kinds of hunter-related tools and supplies. The sheer scope of it and just what it represented about his mother's family had amazed him and he couldn't help but wonder what Dean had thought of it all. His brother had always been far more interested in hunting than him and he could only imagine how validated Dean would have felt to learn that he came from a long line of hunters stretching all the way back to the Mayflower and beyond. It definitely explained why his big brother had taken to Dad's training so easily, just like a duck to water. Unlike for him and their father, Dean had clearly possessed a certain amount of innate hunter skills and instincts.  
  
Sam couldn't help but smile at the thought of how relieved Dean must have felt upon learning of his heritage. Though his brother would rather die than admit it, he knew that Dean had always felt somewhat of a sting at how poorly his brother fit in everywhere. Dean could pretend that he didn't care and shunned normal all that he wanted, but he knew better. He'd seen the occasional longing look that his brother had thrown at a traditional family enjoying a normal day out, though those had severely decreased in frequency over the years, but he still couldn't help but wonder if there wasn't some of that leftover now despite Dean's profession in the desert that it wasn't his brother's dream.  
  
Inevitably that train of thought led right back to Becky's revelation about Dean and Castiel being in a relationship together and Sam pulled a face. It wasn't that he was prejudiced, it was just that it was  _Cas_. Not only was his friend an angel, but Castiel was as close to being asexual as anyone that he'd ever known. If Becky hadn't been quite so enthusiastic about them and Bobby hadn't confirmed what she'd said then he'd never have believed it. He'd tried to see it after that, but aside from the one night when they'd all watched a movie together, he'd been unable to see anything particularly new or different. Sure they stood closer together than was normal, but then they'd always done that. At most he'd noticed that Dean didn't seem quite as bothered by the closeness as before, but that had already been starting to happen the last time he'd seen them together before they'd become a couple.  
  
A couple.  
  
The words just didn't fit Dean and Castiel no matter how much Sam tried to make them. If anything that only served to underscore exactly how much his brother had changed during their time apart and as before he felt a pang at the thought. Part of why he'd always gotten so angry before was because he hadn't like the idea that his big brother had moved on and grown without him and that he no longer knew Dean like he had before. Perhaps he'd have to see if he couldn't find a new exercise routine that would give him aching muscles all of the time as the pain he now felt did wonders to counteract his instinctive and damn near continuous rage. He knew that without it he'd have lost his cool just now and raged about his brother and how Dean had been supernaturally influenced. The irony that it was actually him who'd been thus altered wasn't lost on him and left a bad taste in his mouth.  
  
Even worse, it wasn't lost on Sam now that half of the changes which he'd observed in his brother were ones that he'd often wished to see wrought in Dean. It figured that he'd get what he'd always wanted and not like it. He really should have known to be more careful about what he wished for.  
  
"Hey, Dean," Sam greeted as he entered the workshop room where Samuel kept everything needed to make fake IDs of all kinds.  
  
"Sam," Dean replied, looking up and giving him a once over. "How are you feeling?"  
  
"Not too bad, all things considered."  
  
"Good."  
  
There was another flare of jealousy when his brother turned his attention back to what he was working on and Sam had to bite it back. God, who'd have thought that Lucifer was such a little child in so many ways? He couldn't help but wonder if the devil had always been like that or whether that was the result of having spent millennia locked up alone in a cage. Though, given that Lucifer was said to have fallen due to jealousy, perhaps it was just innate.  
  
"What are you working on?" Sam asked instead. "Some of your old IDs getting worn out?"  
  
"Nah, this is for Cas."  
  
There was the jealousy again, but also a certain amount of humor. "He gotten any better at impersonating a federal agent?"  
  
"Huh? Oh, yeah, he has, but that's not what I'm making. I'm just making him a new driver's license."  
  
"Oh."  
  
Sam had been steadily approaching the workbench and now he glanced over his brother's shoulder and frowned at what he saw. Most of it looked pretty normal, even- surprisingly- the photo of Castiel. Absently he noticed that Dean had chosen to use Massachusetts as the state along with a date that seemed vaguely familiar as the date of birth, but it was the name that captured his full attention.  
  
 _Castiel Winchester_.  
  
Above and beyond any rational problems the use of that name would cause, Sam nearly choked at all of the  _emotional_  connotations of it. Could Dean really not be aware of exactly what that implied about him and Castiel? He found it incredibly difficult to believe and yet, on the flip side, he found the alternative option almost equally hard to believe as that would mean that not only had his big brother somehow overcome all of the commitment issues that Dean had but that his brother was actually thinking of a genuine long-term relationship.  
  
With an angel.  
  
With an angel that Dean would not be able to simply ditch whenever he wanted to.  
  
"Uh, Dean," Sam began, deciding to go with the logical argument first. It just seemed safer. "I'm not sure that's such a good idea, giving Cas our name. If the FBI sees it, well..."  
  
"Didn't I tell you? The FBI's not an issue anymore."  
  
"Just because Henriksen declared us dead before he died doesn't mean that our name isn't in the system anymore."  
  
"Oh it's still in the system, it just doesn't lead to anything anymore."  
  
"What?"  
  
"The Vatican wiped the records and made them looked like sealed documents. We won't have any FBI problems anymore unless we do something new to pop up on their radar."  
  
"The Vatican did what?"  
  
"Wiped the records."  
  
"What?  _How_?"  
  
Dean shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal and part of Sam just wanted to grab his brother and shake him. The  _Vatican_  had  _wiped_  their  _FBI records_! How was this shrug-worthy information instead of earth-shattering news?  
  
"Don't know, I think they have someone in the FBI. They seem to have people all over the place. I used one of their contacts while in South Africa as well when Raph and I needed to get hold of one of the keys to the gateway of Hell there."  
  
Sam closed his eyes and slowly counted to ten backwards. In Spanish. Okay, it was best to deal with one thing at a time here and just make a mental note of the other issues to bring up later.  
  
"Okay, so the FBI's not an issue anymore, but do you really think that it's wise to give Cas our name on his license?" Sam asked.  
  
"I'm not giving him our name, I'm giving him my name. And besides, he wanted it before when I couldn't do it yet because of the FBI issue."  
  
The closest chair was only a few feet away and yet Sam hardly made it there before he collapsed.  _My name_. He could hardly believe Dean's words, not to mention how casually his brother had uttered them, almost as if it were nothing. Just what the hell had he missed during their time apart? And how could Dean have changed so drastically in only a year when it had hardly seemed like his brother had changed at all when they'd gotten together again when looking for Dad? He didn't get it. Sure, intellectually he knew that people could change, but this was  _Dean_  and his big brother had just always seemed so constant and unchanging, even when he'd desperately wished for Dean to change. He wasn't sure if that said more about how quickly his brother had grown up or how little Dean had grown since being a kid, but right now he didn't really care. All that mattered was that his brother had changed and he'd managed to miss it.  
  
Sam hated the way it almost felt like Dean was a stranger to him now.  
  
"Dean," Sam finally managed to force out.  
  
Something about his tone must have gotten through to his brother as Dean stopped what he was doing and looked up at him. For a few moments, they simply looked at each other before his brother sighed and put down the tools he was using.  
  
"Okay, fine, you want to talk, Sammy? Let's talk. What do you want to know?"  
  
"I-"  
  
For once in his life, Sam found it nearly impossible to get the words he wanted to say out. Part of it was probably because his mind was racing a mile a minute, frantically attempting to analyze Dean's words from every possible angle, seeking a more mundane meaning for them than what had already occurred to him. No matter how hard he tried, he simply couldn't come up with anything else. His brain just kept getting stuck on the whole  _Dean and Cas_  thing along with the fact that his brother apparently wanted the angel to  _bear his name_.  
  


* * *

  
  
The obvious struggle on his little brother's face made Dean wince before he shot to his feet and began pacing the room. Of course it figured that the one time he gave in and allowed Sam to talk to him about something that his brother couldn't get the words out. The worst thing was that he'd been putting off and dreading this particular conversation for so long that to have it drawn out now when he was finally ready to have it was even worse.  
  
Aw, hell, he couldn't believe that  _he_  was going to be the one to start this. Dean was sure that the fates hated him.  
  
"Look, Sam, Cas and I are together as you already know."  
  
"There's a huge difference between being together and wanting the other person to have your name!" Sam countered.  
  
Well apparently his little brother had found his tongue again. "I'm well aware of that, Sammy."  
  
"It's Sam, and what do you mean when you say that you want him to have your name? Is it just because he doesn't have one of his own? There are other names that he could use."  
  
Dean closed his eyes and hung his head in disbelief. And to think, Sam was the educated one with a full degree from Stanford University and everything. So how could his little brother be so dense? If he didn't know any better he'd swear the little bitch was doing it just to make him say it aloud. Well if Sam thought that he wouldn't do it or that it would make him uncomfortable than his brother was sorely mistaken.  
  
"No,  _Sam_ , it's not because Cas doesn't have a name of his own. The first license I made for him had the name Novak as I figured it would be an easy one for him to remember. I'm making this one because Cas and I are essentially married, or rather bonded, which is the angelic equivalent thereof."  
  
The silence behind him was rather telling and Dean slowly opened his eyes and turned around to face his little brother. All of the color had drained from Sam's face and his brother was looking at him with pure, unadulterated shock written all over his face. A small part of him wanted to whip out his phone and take a photo, but he shushed it, not wanting to do anything to distract from the real issue here or to make Sam think that he was being anything other than one hundred percent honest. His brother's gapping fish imitation would have been hilarious though if it had been about anything other than what it was.  
  
"You- Cas- You're  _married_?" Sam finally questioned in disbelief. "Angelically married?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Jesus, Dean!"  
  
"What? You don't approve?"  
  
"I- God, Dean, you've been together how long?"  
  
"Really together? Almost a year, but we'd really been dancing around each other ages before that without even knowing it."  
  
"And you're okay with it?"  
  
Dean scowled. "Hey, I'm the one who proposed!"  
  
"You? Was it deliberately?"  
  
"Of course it was deliberately! Dude, Cas would never have allowed it otherwise. Hell, he wasn't even going to suggest it out of fear of making me feel obligated and he only accepted after he was sure that I was truly aware of what I was asking for."  
  
"What does that mean?"  
  
"It's called bonding, Sam, and it means at the Grace level, or in my case at the soul level."  
  
"At the... you're saying that you've tied your soul to Cas' Grace?"  
  
"Yes, precisely."  
  
If he wasn't fully aware of how big of a step that had been, Dean would be insulted by his brother's reaction. As it was, though, he could kind of understand where Sam was coming from. The last time that they'd seen each other before his brother had said yes to the devil, he and Cas hadn't particularly been on the best of terms with each other and now they were bonded on a level that Sam would never truly understand. It was a big difference but he stood by his earlier declaration that he and his bond mate had been dancing around each other for years now. He'd just been too stubborn and blind to see it and his angel simply hadn't known what it was that he felt.  
  
The sound of the door opening behind him was a welcome distraction and Dean turned to see who it was that had joined them.  
  
"Hey, Samuel," Dean said. "I've got something to tell you, figure I might as well let everyone know at once. Right, Sam?"  
  
Dean cast a quick glance over his shoulder back at his brother to see if Sam had come out of his shock yet, but the frown he saw was not what he'd been expecting. That combined with the lack of response from his grandfather made him frown as well because the old man had always seemed far too interested in anything pertaining to him.  
  
"Everything alri-" Dean began, but his voice cut off in a sharp, involuntary intake of breath as his chest seemed to suddenly seize.  
  
Absently Dean was aware of Sam frantically shouting his name as he looked into the cold, dead eyes of his grandfather, his vision becoming strangely fuzzy at the edges as a foreign coldness started to seep into his body, heading straight for his very soul. Confusion filled him but at the same it time felt oddly distant, just like the sudden flood of panic and terror pouring from his bond with Cas and, to a far lesser extent, the one with Michael. Their voices were as frantic and distant to him as his brother's as he slowly glanced down from Samuel's face to his grandfather's fingers wrapped tightly around the hilt of the knife protruding from his chest and angled exactly right for the blade to pierce his heart.


	162. Chapter 161

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel feels the attack upon his bond mate and rushes to Dean's side.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
Castiel had been in the middle of one of his random and unannounced inspections of Heaven when the agony had hit. It had been so unexpected and crippling that at first he hadn't known what it was, but when he realized that it was coming from the bond, he'd felt his Grace seize.  
  
"Dean!" Castiel called out, both aloud and along the bond, but there was no reply from his bond mate.  
  
Not even the instinctive reach back that Dean's soul did whenever he called, even if his hunter was asleep.  
  
A slightly harder probe brought back a feeling of emptiness and darkness, and Castiel was gone. He reacted without thought or intention, simply acting on pure instinct. His bond mate was in unimaginable peril, nothing in Creation could keep him back and prevent him from reaching his human's side. Terror and horror thrummed strong within him, only the desperate need to be able to act keeping them at bay enough to not swamp his senses entirely.  
  
 _Nothing_  would keep him from Dean right now, not even his own emotions.  
  
Castiel was taking in the situation even before he finished landing. He instantly dismissed Sam who was running across the room, the anguish on his friend's face clearly indicating that Sam was not involved in whatever had transpired here. All thoughts of his bond mate's brother vanished when he caught sight of his hunter and his horror multiplied a hundredfold to previously unimagined proportions. It took a split second to realize that Samuel Campbell had stabbed Dean and though he didn't understand why, that hardly mattered now. Without a second thought, he flung the old hunter aside carelessly, the entirety of his attention focused on his human.  
  
The sight of the knife buried in Dean's chest hardly even registered and Castiel actually wished that it was the worst of it. A simple wound to his bond mate's body like that he could fix quite easily. It was what else he saw that terrified him more than he'd ever been before in his existence. His human's soul- Dean's beautiful,  _beautiful_  soul- was writhing and jerking within his bond mate's body, looking far too much like death throes rather than some desperate battle for his liking. The insidious black veins spreading darkness through Dean's body and soul made him cry out even as he lunged forwards and managed to catch his hunter's body before it hit the cold, hard floor.  
  
"Dean!" Castiel frantically cried out again.  
  
Vaguely he was aware of the arrival of Michael and Raphael, but Castiel completely ignored them in favor of focusing all of his attention on his human. Dean's green eyes were locked on his, unbridled terror and agony in their depths even as his bond mate's body struggled futilely for breath, a soft wheezing and clicking sound all that managed to escape even as blood flecked those beloved lips.  
  
"No!" Castiel denied desperately, pulling the knife out and placing his hand over the wound.  
  
The burning in his hand hardly registered as Castiel tried to force his Grace to heal the damage.  
  
 _He couldn't_.  
  
The poison spreading within Dean's body and soul resisted all of Castiel's attempts to either contain it or ward it off, burning his very Grace as if he were touching the pure essence of Hell itself. Or no, not Hell, but rather the First Darkness, that which had come before, tainting his Father's flawless Creation. It was the stuff which Hell itself was made of, the Darkness that caused human souls to be demonized within the depths of Perdition, and that was with a severely diluted form of it. This wasn't; this was pure, untamed First Darkness itself- the raw quintessence itself of which true destruction was made of.  
  
"No! Dean!" Castiel railed, refusing to believe it.  
  
It just  _couldn't_  be. Not that, anything but that. If he was right, then it would mean that-  
  
Castiel's very Grace refused to even consider the possibility, the horror and pain far too great. That couldn't happen, not to Dean, not his precious human who deserved it less than anyone else that he'd ever met before. Death itself would be a miraculous blessing in comparison and he'd gladly take it, even if it meant condemning all of Earth to Hell itself. Just so long as his bond mate's soul survived the experience to live on in Heaven.  
  
"Raphael!" Castiel cried out. "Help, I can't... The poison..."  
  
"What is it?" Raphael demanded, dropping to his knees beside him.  
  
"First."  
  
It was all that Castiel could force out, his vessel's throat closing up in horror as he watched the Darkness continue to spread, steadily obliterating his bond mate. The way that Dean's soul frantically struggled, desperately reaching out towards him made his Grace cry out in agony and he abandoned all attempts to save his human's body, focusing his efforts solely on his hunter's soul, but everything he tried was for naught. The First Darkness that had infected Dean's body was keeping him at bay, preventing him from reaching the soul being slowly extinguished within.  
  
The horror that his brothers felt and projected outwards made it perfectly clear to Castiel that they understood what it was that he meant. The reminder of his siblings gave him an idea and he reached out to Miniel.  
  
" _Brother, were you able to find an antidote to the poison Xarael spoke with you about? The one that can render a vessel unusable and destroy both the mind and soul?_ " Castiel questioned urgently. " _I need it now!_ "  
  
" _Castiel, I am sorry, but no. There is no antidote that we could find._ "  
  
" _No! I_ need _an antidote!_ "  
  
" _Brother-_ "  
  
" _What about a means to slow it down? It's Darkness, Miniel, First Darkness, and it has Dean._ "  
  
" _Oh, Father help us!_ "  
  
The horror and desolation that Castiel felt from the healer told him all that he needed to know and he cut their connection, hardly even noticing the wail that went up among the Song of Heaven as word of what happened quickly spread through the Host.  
  
"Brace yourself, Raphael," Michael stated, suddenly beside them.  
  
Before Castiel could ask what his oldest brother intended to do, Michael had already placed a hand on the back of Raphael's neck and began pouring his Grace forth. His eyes opened wide in shock, realizing what Michael intended and his first instinct was to cover Dean's eyes to keep them from being burnt out of their sockets before he realized that wasn't a danger. Raphael made a strangled sound but offered no protest, instead channelling the extra power through himself to boost his own considerable healing abilities.  
  
It was useless, though, not even slowing the spread of the First Darkness as it continued to literally eat away at Castiel's bond mate. It didn't deter either Michael or Raphael in the slightest, though, and his oldest brother continued to pour more and more of his power into Raphael, the light of his Grace filling the room until he was sure that it would destroy Raphael. Then, as quickly as it had risen, the light was gone and Michael's hand fell away from Raphael's vessel, leaving a scar just like the one he'd given Dean behind in its wake.  
  
"No!" Castiel screamed, desperately clutching Dean closer to himself when he saw that the First Darkness progressed on unabated.  
  
Almost all of Dean's soul had been consumed already and what was left hardly even resembled his bond mate anymore. It was a small, sickly flickering thing, it's astonishing beauty and brilliance already eclipsed. His hunter's body was barely alive anymore either, heart and lungs struggling valiantly to keep functioning but slowly shutting down along with the rest of Dean's organs.  
  
"Dean, Beloved."  
  


* * *

  
  
The broken, desolate whisper from Castiel was the first thing that Sam heard when the ringing from Michael's unexpected light show finally faded enough for him to realize that his eardrums hadn't, in fact, been completely blown out.  
  
Silent as they were, the words and the despairing, hopeless way in which they were uttered were enough to break Sam's frantically beating heart. No, it couldn't be! It-  
  
 _Dean couldn't be dying_! Not again.  
  
Sam absolutely refused to believe it. A knife to the chest- hell, to the heart even- was simply  _not_  enough to stop his big brother. Not Dean who'd survived far, far worse already. Surely if a hellhound couldn't keep his brother down and out, then what could a pathetic little knife do? Especially with not one, not two, but  _three_  angels around to heal Dean!  
  
The fact that he'd watched all three of those angels trying frantically to do just that to no avail threatened to overwhelm Sam, but he stubbornly fought it off. No, he absolutely refused to believe it, this was  _Dean_  they were talking about here after all. His stupid big brother who just didn't know when to give up, to the point where he'd even wondered if Dean actually knew what the word meant before his brother's apart breakdown in Blue Earth. But even that only served to bolster his determination now for it had taken the angels nearly two years of constant badgering to get Dean to that point and things had been bleak, to say the least. None of that was the case here, if anything his brother had seemed genuinely happy for the first time in years, so Dean would be fine.  
  
His brother  _had_  to be.  
  
The mere thought of losing Dean was bad enough to make Sam's world tilt on its axis, but to have his brother die now after all the shit that he'd said to Dean and how he'd acted? It was unbearable and he struggled to breathe even as he tried to shake off the aftereffects of whatever the hell Michael had done. He'd only just realized that he had to close his eyes seconds before the light had flooded the room, all but blinding him even with his eyes closed. He wasn't sure what had happened next, but he was on the floor now and he scrambled to right himself once more.  
  
Sam only got as far as his knees before he froze in place, his eyes falling on the tableau before him. Castiel was collapsed into a heap on the floor, Dean clutched desperately in his arms with Michael and Raphael crowded close on either side. The sheer anguish and desolation on the faces of the two archangels was enough to punch the air right from his lungs, but Castiel... He couldn't even begin to describe the emotions exposed on his friend's face other than that Castiel looked exactly how he'd felt after he'd lost Jess.  
  
The grief that broadsided him made Sam collapsed back onto his hands, his whole body trembling far too much for him to even think about getting up. Though part of him wanted nothing more than to rush to his brother's side, the rest of him refused to follow through on it. As long as he wasn't right there, beside Dean, then it wasn't real. From here he could see the short, frantic breaths his big brother took as Dean fought desperately to breathe and that meant that his brother was still alive. It was easier to cope with from here, easier so long as he didn't have to look into his brother's eyes and see the fear and death there.  
  
That was what had haunted Sam the most the last time after he'd buried Dean; his brother's vacant, lifeless stare after Dean had died. He'd been so sure that it would be the screams or his brother's futile attempts to get away from the hellhound that would follow him into his nightmares, but instead it had been that glazed, empty gaze. More than anything else that had been what had told him that Dean was truly dead as he'd never once seen those eyes not filled with something. For all that his big brother professed to hate anything emotional or chick-flicky, Dean had always been a creature of emotion. In a lot of ways his brother was ruled by it, often choosing to believe emotions in the form of instincts over cold, hard facts and logic.  
  
So to see those eyes lifeless and empty had been worse than anything that Sam had ever seen before and he couldn't bear to witness it again. The mere possibility froze him in place even as his mind whirled frantically, racing a mile a minute, desperately seeking a way out, a solution or an escape. Castiel had said poison and many poisons had an antidote, so couldn't they use that? Or couldn't they simply purge it from Dean's meatsuit? Raphael was a healer, right? It was definitely what the archangel was made out to be in most angelic lore that he'd read and the way that Castiel had called upon Raphael's aid definitely seemed to indicate that it was right in this case. So why didn't Raphael  _do_  something then? Didn't he care?  
  
The thought vanished as soon as Sam's eyes darted back to the archangel in question. The expression on the normally stoic angel's face left him in no doubt that if Raphael could do something, the archangel would. So where did that leave them if Raphael was powerless to stop the spread of this poison?  
  
What hope did anyone else have in succeeding?  
  


* * *

  
  
Bobby had been in the library, just turning away from the window in order to collect another book, when it had seemed like a nuclear bomb had gone off outside. The light was so bright that he was left blinking spots out of his vision despite the fact that he'd not even been looking directly at it. The boom and concussive wave that had followed rattled the house ominously and when he whirled around it was to see the windows of the barn had shattered.  
  
 _The boys_!  
  
Even before he'd fully finished processing the thought, Bobby was already racing out of the room, books completely forgotten. The rational part of him knew that he should stop and think of a strategy before just barging in half-cocked, but he'd watched not only Dean but also Sam walk into that barn this morning already and he couldn't bear it if anything happened to either of those two boys again.  
  
"Gwen!" Bobby called out, cursing that she was the only one left in the main house with him. "Gwen, the barn!"  
  
Enough of his hunter instincts remained for Bobby to grab the shotgun loaded with salt rounds kept just inside behind the back door, but then he was outside, racing across the distance to the barn. He'd just reached it when Gwen came tearing out of the house, a crossbow in one hand and her trusted machete in the other. Well, they had a range of weapons if nothing else.  
  
Not letting the thought slow him in the slightest, Bobby entered the barn, carefully sweeping the first room for any signs of danger. There were none and he quickly moved on, his fear for the boys urging him on. Gwen quickly caught up with him and they fell into a familiar rhythm, clearing each room as fast as they could. It was because of their silence that he caught the soft sounds of something moving to their left and he turned in that direction, indicating the door to the forgery room to Gwen with a silent gesture. She nodded and followed him, taking up position on the opposite side of the doorframe from the one he took.  
  
On the count of three, Bobby threw the door open and rushed into the room, gun at the ready.  
  
For as long as he lived, Bobby was sure that he'd never forget the sight that greeted him. Samuel was slumped bonelessly against the far wall, a dark and angry bruise already forming on his throat where it appeared that someone had grabbed him. Sam was collapsed on his hands and knees to one side, grief and denial etched into his every feature along with a helplessness and hopelessness that had his own heart freezing in his chest.  
  
There was only one thing that could make Sam look like that and it was something that Bobby couldn't deal with. Not again. Not so soon.  
  
Not after he'd only just gotten Dean back.  
  
Inevitably and almost against his will, Bobby found his eyes following Sam's gaze and the gun fell from his suddenly nerveless hands at the sight that greeted him. Dean was stretched out, half on the floor, half in Castiel's arms, his chest a bloody mess. The boy's angel was bowed over Dean, an inhuman and broken sound of pure, raw grief escaping Castiel's throat, echoed by a very similar keening sound from Michael who was crouched beside his brother, also desperately clutching at Dean. The other angel was there too but he hardly noticed him, his own attention focused on Dean as the shock of what he was seeing slowly started to sink in.  
  
It couldn't be what it looked like. They were on the Campbell family compound for Heaven's sake, a place warded for nearly two centuries by one hunter after another! Nothing should have been able to get in here. They should have been safe!  
  
Bobby felt his heart stop as Dean's hand was knocked by one of the archangels and it fell aside, hitting the stone floor with the laxness that only true death could achieve in the human body. His heart tried to deny what he was seeing, unable to believe it, but even it was unable to sugarcoat the scene before him; the sightless eyes that were already starting to cloud over, the absolute laxness in every limb, the archangels' reactions and the bloody- though no longer bleeding- gaping wound in the middle of the boy's chest.  
  
 _Dean was dead_.


	163. Chapter 162

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It wasn't often that Death was intrigued by any one soul, but it happened occasionally.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
It wasn't often that Death was aware of the death throes of any one individual being anymore, so the fact that he was would have caught his attention even if he hadn't instantly recognized the soul in question.  
  
Dean Winchester.  
  
The revelation caught Death completely off-guard as he hadn't expected to feel that particular soul die any time soon, not with three archangels having taken such a liking to it and thus watching over it. Well, not unless Lucifer had made a significant move and he would have been aware of such an occurrence as the fights of archangels caused enough power ripples for him to have noticed them. So it hadn't been a fight then.  
  
Death tried to seriously consider whether he should go see what had transpired before he abandoned the futile exercise. There was really no point in attempting to delude himself that he hadn't already made up his mind. Yes, Dean Winchester should be entirely beneath his notice- should be hardly even an insignificant bacterium really- but he knew that the human wasn't. Even during their first meeting there had been something about the boy that had caught his attention and interest, though at the time he hadn't quite known what it was.  
  
Each subsequent meeting, all done without Dean's awareness of his presence, had intrigued Death even more until the last one, which was when his interest had turned into true curiosity. It hadn't been until then when he'd realized just how special the boy truly was. What was meant, precisely, by the title Righteous Man. He'd ignored that before. After all, significant religious figures were a dime a dozen and none of them had truly been worth his notice, but Dean Winchester was different. The boy was more. God had done something different for once and he couldn't help but want to see how it all turned out. Especially if he was right about what his old friend had done.  
  
He'd have to congratulate the old boy if that was the case.  
  
So, yes, Death knew that he'd interfere if necessary (though he doubted the archangels would hesitate to resurrect the boy once more) even before the death throes shifted. Not only would doing so allow him to witness the first plan of God's that even remotely intrigued him in millennia, but it would also be a way for him to frustrate Lucifer, which was a particular bonus but merely a side effect of his choice, not the true reason for it.  
  
Then the death throes had shifted and it took Death a moment to realize what was going on. It had been so long since he'd felt a soul wiped out of existence entirely instead of just merely dying a mortal death that he didn't see it for what it was right away. When he did, he followed the sensation back to its source immediately, appearing on the scene cloaked to the eyes of all humans and angels present. This type of death, by what the angels naively called First Darkness, was not something that they could prevent or undo. Indeed, once a soul was fully extinguished, it was gone and not even himself or God could bring it back.  
  
Not as it had been, not as that particular being.  
  
They could potentially create a flawed twin, but it would never be the same soul again. It was part of the beauty and frailty of the souls that God had created, their uniqueness and ability to change, sometimes for good and others for ill, though more often the latter. This particular soul though, Death mused, had managed the former and he really was curious to witness how else it might evolve.  
  
By the time that Death had arrived, Dean Winchester's body was already dead and hardly a sliver of the boy's soul remained. It was rapidly vanishing even as it separated from its body. He was a little surprised that none of the archangels made a grab for it, but perhaps it was already so slim that they could no longer detect its presence.  
  
Though hardly a sliver, it was all that Death needed of this particular soul. He was the embodiment of death and destruction, after all, and unbeatable in his own domain, which is why he would reap God himself one day regardless of which of them was the elder. And though the Darkness might be the first of its kind that the angels had experienced, it was hardly the first- or even the strongest- that he'd ever encountered. Indeed, back before God had decided to start creating all manner of things, there had been a Darkness far more pure and all-encompassing than that present here, annihilating Dean Winchester's soul.  
  
With a gentleness that surprised even himself, Death reached out and called the soul sliver to himself. The moment that he had it in his hands, he was able to halt the extermination of it. That, however, was by far the easiest of it. Though the Darkness instantly obeyed him and fled, it was the actual recreation of Dean Winchester's soul that would be the hard part. He was not a creator, he was a transformer, in his case of souls from their physical life to their spiritual one. Though the process was simply labelled 'death' and often seen as an end by those 'alive' it was really so much more, though he knew that most souls were simply incapable of understanding that until they'd made the journey from one state to another.  
  
It was why even angels didn't truly understand him, though Death was constantly amused by their lack of realization of this. Even Castiel whom God had resurrected not once, but twice, didn't even realize his lack of understanding as the little angel's Grace had not undergone a transformation of any kind. It had simply gone from being energized to depleted and back. No, the true transformation had come later, only being thought of after he'd accidentally killed one of God's angels and his old friend had then realized that he wanted there to be something more; for his creations to not simply be snuffed out so easily and permanently.  
  
Due to his different skillset, Death knew that what he was about to attempt would not have been possible with any other soul. There just wasn't enough of it left for him to work with. Dean Winchester, however, had already proven that he was hardly normal. He wondered if this had been part of God's plan or not. It was difficult to tell sometimes as he knew from experience how major events could catch his friend completely by surprise and yet particular details of it would be precisely how God had planned it. He was tempted to think that events had long since gone off target from what his friend had intended, but he'd found that was often when God surprised him the most, so he decided to simply wait and see.  
  
Death called upon all of his own power and concentrated it on the soul sliver, pleased at the way in which it responded. He'd been counting on even such a miniscule part of the boy's soul to retain some of Dean Winchester's most inherent characteristics. Namely the human's stubbornness and fighting spirit. Not only had this soul survived four decades in Hell, but it had also carried on after attaining a glimpse of Heaven. Dean was the first human soul to remain sane after having experienced both extremes. And it hadn't just survived them, but it had thrived as well in the end.  
  
Altogether it made the true essence of Dean Winchester a survivor in the truest sense of the word and that was precisely what Death required just now. The reason that neither he nor God could bring back a soul that had been completely obliterated was because there was no guide or map as to how it had been, all the nuances and peculiarities of it that made the soul who and what it was. The soul, however, knew itself just like any cell of the human body knew itself as a whole. That same body could be regrown from any one of them, minus a few details, no matter how unique or different the body. The soul was even better at this self-awareness than the body was, knowing  _all_  of the changes it had undergone since being created.  
  
The tricky part was getting the soul to share that knowledge with him. Death also had to be constantly on his guard that he didn't transform the soul to its spiritual form either. Though he knew that the archangels would be perfectly capable of returning Dean Winchester to his physical form (once the transformation had been achieved, reversal of it was always possible if one knew how and possessed the power of an angel), so many stressors on the boy's soul so quickly increased the odds of permanent damage significantly.  
  
No, he would have to ensure that he didn't transform the soul. The problem was that Death knew it would be far easier with Dean Winchester than with any soul he'd previously saved thus as, unlike them, the boy had already experienced spiritual life and would therefore be far easier to transform than a normal, physical soul.  
  
There was a flare of recognition at his touch and Death smiled. Dean Winchester had died often enough to be able to identify the touch of one of his reapers and, thereby, his own. Luckily the sliver of soul was small enough to not be sufficiently sentient as to fight him. Instead it turned into him, welcoming his power, probably preferring the comfort of death over the utter annihilation that it had experienced before. He could only hope the sentiment would last, though he thought it unlikely as Dean Winchester was such a fighter. The fact that the human had stood up to him despite being utterly terrified would have been enough for him to know that he would have trouble shortly, even if he hadn't learned more about the soul in question recently.  
  
As the soul spun out its knowledge before him, Death knew that after this intimate contact with Dean Winchester's true essence, his fascination with this particular being would only grow. It was a consequence he was willing to accept, though, especially since he now had an inkling of what it was his old friend was up to. Knowing that, there was absolutely no possible way that he would miss out on seeing if God succeeded in his quest or not.  
  
No way.  
  
Dean Winchester apparently possessed even more traits that were not normal for a human to have Death soon discovered as he came across traces of what almost seemed like angelic Grace patterned into his very soul. It intrigued him but he had little time to devote to examining it closely as the entirety of his attention was required in order to maintain the steady stream of recreation he was performing. Whereas a normal soul would already have tested his boundaries when it came to creation, this one was taxing them to the extreme. The boy's true essence was far brighter and vaster than any he had recreated before and it was beginning to take its toll on him, especially since he constantly had to guard himself against transforming the newly regenerating soul out of habit.  
  
When Death came up against the first of the places where the angelic bonds had been anchored, he seriously considered simply forgoing its recreation. It would take even more power and effort on his part and would bring one of the archangels into the equation as well. As they did not possess the ability to create it would be a needless complication.  
  
No sooner had the thought occurred to him, than the soul twisted and bucked beneath Death's hands. Whereas before it had been surprisingly open and accepting of his touch and power, it now sought to resist him. The strength of the struggles, even if nowhere near enough to escape his hold, startled him. He hadn't realized that Dean Winchester would be so strong already when only a portion of his soul had been recreated. Though he could still contain the soul, it soon became clear that any further progress would be difficult with such open resistance.  
  
In a way Death admired it just as he'd been unable to help himself from feeling the same when Dean had come to confront him in the pizza parlor in Chicago. It took courage and a certain strength of character to stand up to him, knowing who and what he was and he saw it so infrequently that it was a refreshing change that intrigued him. Cursing God for the boy's sheer stubbornness, he relented and allowed his power to start recreating the parts of the soul necessary for the bond. Being called out on his laziness was more amusing than annoying and he found himself humoring the soul almost despite himself.  
  
If nothing else than the presence of the archangels might keep Dean Winchester calm and at least partially complacent as he finished the process of recreating the boy's soul.  
  


* * *

  
  
The lamenting of the Host for once failed to make Raphael feel better and feel like his grief was being shared. Instead it now seemed to serve only to underscore simply how poorly his siblings understood the gravity of the situation. Yes, his brothers and sisters knew that Dean was dead, his very soul gone, and that one of their own had lost a bond mate, but almost none of them realized just how great the loss actually was.  
  
Raphael could honestly say that he had never before known a soul as brilliant and unique as Dean's and he doubted that he ever would again. His Father had broken the mold when He'd created his bond brother and now Dean was gone forever. The reality of it still hadn't fully sunken in, but he could  _feel_  that his bond brother was gone, instead of the brilliant light that Dean's soul had cast there was only emptiness now; a void that tore at him in a way that he could hardly bear. And if he felt like this, he didn't even want to consider how Michael and Castiel felt, their bonds with Dean having been savagely torn asunder as they never should have been. He tightened his wings around his brothers, desperately wishing that there was something he could do for them.  
  
If it would have been possible to sacrifice himself in Dean's stead then Raphael would have done so gladly. It was a realization that reminded him of how bewildered he'd been upon learning that first Castiel and later Gabriel had done so for a human he'd hardly even been able to stand the presence of. The pain that he felt now almost made him wish that he could be like that once more, to not be so affected by this. Almost, but that was all. He would never actually trade in the experience and joy of having come to truly know Dean even if it felt like his Grace had been torn apart now.  
  
"Dean!" Castiel cried out, abruptly sitting up.  
  
"Hush, we know, Brother," Michael murmured, voice thick with pain. "We know."  
  
"No, I- I feel him. I feel Dean!" Castiel retorted.  
  
The words electrified Raphael though he tried to keep them from doing so. The First Darkness had extinguished Dean's soul, he'd felt it doing so himself even as he was helpless to stop it. Not even with most of Michael's power coursing through him to the point where he'd been sure that he'd explode from it all had he been able to do anything to so much as slow the Darkness down. And once a soul was wiped from existence there was nothing that could bring it back.  
  
 _Nothing_.  
  
"Castiel," Raphael began gently. "You know what First Darkness does. It is no-"  
  
"I can feel him," Castiel declared confidently, glancing about wildly. "The bond is reforming. It's him, I'm sure of it."  
  
The sheer conviction in his brother's voice along with his own desire for it to be true had Raphael looking about as well but there was nothing to see. The humans were looking at them strangely now, clearly too afraid to ask any questions for fear of breaking the spell or whatever it was that they thought. It was something ridiculous, that much he knew.  
  
The sharp intake of breath made Raphael look at Castiel once more only to find his brother staring wide-eyed ahead, tears in his eyes and wonder radiating off him.  
  
"Beloved," Castiel whispered before his voice firmed. "Death."  
  
Almost as if the word were a summoning spell, Raphael noticed the air before them start to shimmer and slowly Death appeared. The horseman had his hands extended before him and an intense look of concentration on his face. The light exploded into existence a moment later, eclipsing the weak light from the sun coming in through the two small windows located high up on the far wall. It wasn't nearly bright enough to be Dean's soul, but it definitely looked familiar and as he watched it swirling and dancing in the air before Death, he finally realized what was going on.  
  
Death was recreating Dean.  
  


* * *

  
  
Michael couldn't even begin to describe the joy that he felt upon witnessing Death, much as he hadn't been able to even comprehend the anguish and utter desolation that he'd felt before. Losing Dean had been one of the worst experiences in his entire existence, especially since he'd never expected to do so. Even if his precious little one were killed during their fight against Lucifer, he knew that Dean's soul was destined for Heaven so, short of dying himself (in which case he wouldn't be aware of it), he'd never even realized that he could lose his vessel.  
  
The discovery had been horrendous and even now Michael found it almost unbearable. Although he'd instantly recognized Death's actions for what they were- having watched his Father create frequently during his time- it wasn't enough. Their bond was gone and while he would always be delighted with Dean's survival, he knew he'd never lose the ache and agony of the missing bond. The First Darkness poison had been created first and foremost to ruin a vessel and render it unusable. The fact that it also destroyed the mind and soul of the human had been of secondary, though no less delightful, importance to Lucifer.  
  
The thought of never being able to join with his precious human like that again wrecked Michael even though he knew that he'd take it instantly if it meant that Dean wasn't obliterated. He'd take a lot of things if it meant that his vessel could continue to exist, many he was sure that Dean would neither like nor approve of but it was just how it was. He now finally understood what it was that had driven his little one to make that fateful crossroads deal. To someone who didn't believe in the existence of Heaven, physical death had to have felt like this.  
  
Michael shuddered at the thought of Dean experiencing this kind of pain or loss.  
  
A quick glance at Castiel was all that Michael needed to know that his brother's bond truly was regenerating. The pure unadulterated rapture on Castiel's face told him that. He took heart from it, shoving aside the instinctive jealousy that he couldn't suppress and turned back to face Death and Dean once more. In all that had happened he hadn't even thought to call on the horseman, not knowing that Death could create as well as end life. It was no excuse, though, because he should have thought to call the horseman in order to have Death try and pull Dean's soul free from the First Darkness and into true death itself. From there they'd have been able to come up with a new plan. He was just thankful that Death had sought to repay his debt to them without any prompting.  
  
Dean's soul had just started attaining the brilliance of a normal soul when Michael felt it, a gentle nudging against his Grace that was intimately familiar. Without even thinking about it, Michael reacted, instantly reaching out with his Grace towards Dean. What he felt when he touched his bond brother's soul was a miasma of confusion, pain and fear, but Dean responded to him without a moment's hesitation, latching onto his Grace with a certainty that resounded straight through him.  
  
Miraculously, their bond reformed with an ease that amazed Michael and instead he turned all of his attention to soothing Dean's frantic soul. The intimacy of the situation meant that he could clearly feel Castiel and Death as well and he knew that having so many people directly touching his soul couldn't be doing anything for Dean's already overloaded, partial awareness.  
  
While Michael knew nothing of what Death was doing, the same wasn't true for Castiel. Carefully, he reached out to his brother and brushed their Graces together. This close they didn't need words and instead they effortlessly began the process of soothing Dean together, creating one source of comfort and love to which their human could cling as Dean slowly regained true awareness.


	164. Chapter 163

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confusion, pain, darkness and warmth.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
Confusion, pain, darkness and warmth.  
  
Power.  
  
Himself and others. Mixing, sliding, spinning, reaching, pain.  
  
Hurting, stretching, growing, burning, healing, pain.  
  
Panic, warmth, comfort, hurting.  
  
Darkness.  
  
Feeling, stretching, yearning.  _Nothing_.  
  
Panic, comfort, frantic, holding, desperate, gentle.  
  
Bond.  
  
Bond good, good bond.  
  
Pain bad.  
  
Darkness, pain, re-growing, frantic. Hell?  
  
Warmth, warmth, comfort and warmth.  
  
Clinging.  
  
Clinging, soothing, bonding. Safe.  
  
Beloved, wanted.  
  
Safe but pain, need pain?  
  
Hate pain.  
  
Shushing warmth, stopping escape. Enveloping, holding, not letting escape but feel good, really good.  
  
Want more.  
  
Pull closer, bury into, wrap around. Warmth, comfort.  
  
 _Love._  
  
Trust.  
  
Still trembling but slowing, stopping. Warmth soothing, helping, holding. Bury into deeper, sighing.  
  
Pain still there but dimming, regrowth good, not Hell regrowth; necessary. Needed.  
  
Bearable if wanted. Warmth want. Warmth good. Warmth soothing. Warmth loving.  
  
Warmth two?  
  
Two warmths. Good warmth and better warmth. Friend warmth and... and bond warmth? No, two bonds. Friend warmth and Cas warmth.  
  
Cas warmth pulsing and thrumming. Cas warmth happy.  
  
He like happy Cas warmth. Want Cas warmth. More Cas warmth.  
  
Get more Cas warmth. Purr.  
  


* * *

  
  
Sam watched transfixed as Death did whatever it was that the horseman was doing to Dean's soul. Normally he'd be on his feet and across the room in an instant, defending his brother, but an overwhelming mixture of shock and relief kept him frozen in place. He'd not even had time to fully process Dean's death before Castiel had spoken, but it had been enough to completely devastate him.  
  
The only other thing that kept Sam from attacking was the fact that he could see his brother's soul slowly getting brighter. It had started off slightly resembling the soul he'd seen in that one demon lackey of Famine's briefcase and was now already far brighter than it. If it kept on increasing in intensity then he'd have to close his eyes or look away soon.  
  
Those were the absolute last two things that Sam wanted to do right now. He'd just lost his big brother and irrational as it was, he felt like Dean would vanish if he didn't keep his eyes on him. The fact that he could see what was essentially his brother's lifeless corpse out of the corner of his eye didn't help matters either.  
  
 _Dean had died_.  
  
Again.  
  
Sam felt tears run down his face as a lump formed in his throat. The way that knowledge hit him all of a sudden was devastating and all he wanted to do was to clutch his big brother to him. The problem was that he couldn't because Dean wasn't corporeal yet. Instead his brother was one big glowy ball of light that looked kinda like one of those photos that he'd seen of the Andromeda galaxy. Well, either that or a giant fairy, and boy was he never going to let Dean forget that!  
  
Only, Sam frowned, was his brother's soul supposed to get that bright? It was becoming  _really_  hard to look at Dean now and he suddenly couldn't help but think that Death might be hurting his brother instead of helping him. Could it be that the horseman was trying to make his brother's soul go supernova? It had to be something like that because it was starting to look more like dying angelic Grace now than a human soul. The thing was, much as he wouldn't know if Death were harming his brother, the angels would and Castiel wasn't doing anything but staring at the horseman and Dean's soul in wonder while still clutching his brother's meatsuit. Surely if what Death was doing was wrong then the angel wouldn't simply be sitting there like that. Especially not given what Dean had just told him.  
  
Dean and Castiel angel married.  
  
Sam still couldn't wrap his mind around that particular fact. It just... didn't compute. His brother married was hard enough to imagine let alone to a guy or an angel. Thinking back on their interactions before he couldn't see any signs of it either. His brother had treated Castiel much as Dean had always treated anyone who worked with them, demanding a lot more than reasonable but giving them unwavering loyalty in return.  
  
So had he just been blind or had there really been no signs until things had changed? Sam had seen other friendships evolve into more which he hadn't expected to and he hadn't ever been able to find any indicators of what would happen afterwards then either. So it wasn't outside the realm of possibilities.  
  
With a mixed cry of pain and dismay, Sam was forced to close his eyes as his brother's soul exploded into such a brilliant intensity that it was like looking directly into the sun.  
  
At noon.  
  
In the summer.  
  


* * *

  
  
Castiel could have wept as Dean's true awareness skittered to life along the slowly reforming bond. It wasn't fully there yet so he still felt like he had when Raphael had started destroying him a few years ago in the prophet's house, partially obliterated himself. It would have felt better if he'd lost all of his wings instead of his bond mate and he'd have considered himself both lucky and blessed for it too.  
  
The moment that Castiel felt his human's awareness, he surged forwards and grasped hold of that part of Dean's soul tightly. It said all that was needed about how integral the bond had become to his hunter when his bond mate didn't so much as resist him for an instant, instead simply melting into his Grace, the rapidly rising panic and terror eased with his presence.  
  
The bond began to reform rapidly now that Dean was actively focused on it and Castiel relaxed slightly, allowing Michael to twine around him to reach that essential part of his bond mate as well. None of the almost instinctive jealousy from before was there anymore, so long as he had his bond mate he didn't care how closely bonded Michael and Dean were.  
  
Castiel was so focused on nurturing his hunter's growing awareness that at first he didn't notice the slightly different resonance to Dean's soul, like a single tone or chord that was different in an orchestra, but once he did he couldn't  _not_  see it anymore. Frowning he checked that his brother had a hold of his bond mate before he reached out to it.  
  
" _Don't._ "  
  
The order came out of nowhere, icy cold and sharp, with a weight of command behind it that Castiel hadn't experienced in millennia. Automatically his Grace submitted, wings going low and wide before he even realized who it was that had issued the command. Death.  
  
" _But-_ " Castiel began, unsure.  
  
" _Do you think that my work would duplicate that of your father exactly?_ " Death demanded. " _There will always be some minute differences, but it wouldn't be to his essence, just the resonance of his soul._ "  
  
Part of Castiel wanted to protest, to have Dean  _exactly_  as his bond mate had been but he tried to suppress it. Not only was he far too thankful to have Dean at all but this was also the most powerful of all the horsemen, the one being he'd seen his human truly afraid of in a way that his bond mate hadn't been even of his Father. Then there was also the fact that there really was nothing that he could do about the situation. Not only could he not think of anything that might sway Death's hand, but if he resisted then there was also the possibility, slight as he suspected that it was, that the horseman would cease what Death was doing and there was absolutely no way that he'd risk that.  
  
Castiel resolved to investigate the matter far more later on, once he had his bond mate back.  
  
Meanwhile Castiel turned his attention back to Dean as his human began tugging on their newly reformed bond with a proprietariness that he'd never felt before. It pleased him in a way as he'd always wanted his hunter to feel like Dean deserved him and their bond, but it hadn't happened yet no matter how much his bond mate's self-esteem had improved recently. It could be that this present flare of emotion was due more to the fact that Dean hadn't been fully restored yet than anything else, but he wasn't going to let it go unrewarded for all that.  
  
With a wave of love and warmth, Castiel bathed his bond mate in all of the affection that was Dean's due and felt it mingle with Michael's own attention for his human. Together it seemed to help calm his hunter some, but clearly Dean was still unsettled and he couldn't blame his bond mate. After what had happened he was amazed that his human was even remotely coherent right now. It was probably due to a mixture of both his and Michael's presences and the fact that Dean had already experienced far more than the average human soul. Still, he could feel an edge of what could only be described as hysteria tingeing his hunter's thoughts and feelings.  
  
The hysteria suddenly flared brighter as Dean gained enough awareness to fully realize just who else was also touching his soul.  
  
" _Cas! Mike!_ " his bond mate cried out, frantic.  
  
" _Hush, Beloved,_ " Castiel replied, trying to be as soothing as possible.  
  
" _You're safe, Little One,_ " Michael added.  
  
" _But-_ " Dean began, scrambling for words.  
  
" _Death's helping you,_ " Castiel explained quickly, not at all liking the clumsy and ineffectual way his bond mate was attempting to react.  
  
It was an extremely painful and sharp indicator of how incomplete his human still was. Of how frighteningly  _fragile_  Dean was.  
  
" _Helping?_ "  
  
" _Yes, Little One, he's doing something we cannot so you must let him continue unimpeded,_ " Michael elaborated.  
  
" _I don't like it._ "  
  
The plaintive tone struck at Castiel's Grace all over again and he tried to pull his bond mate even closer to himself. " _Hush, I know, Beloved, I know, but you must bear it. Hold onto us and it'll all be over soon, I promise._ "  
  


* * *

  
  
Raphael hated being sidelined, completely unable to help his brothers, especially when his newest bond brother's very existence hung in the balance. He would have done what Michael had earlier and lent his strength to one of them if he thought that it would help but as neither Michael nor Castiel was actively using all that much of their own power it would be a useless gesture and only distract their attention from Dean, which was the very last thing that he wanted to do.  
  
So much of his attention had been caught up with Death and his bond brother's slowly reforming soul that it took Raphael a while to realize that while he was unable to aid Dean's soul, his friend's body was another matter altogether. The First Darkness that had been slowly seeping through his bond brother's body had all vanished and he wasn't sure when that had happened as he'd not been paying any attention to the physical. Once he realized it, though, he immediately set to healing the mortal wounds left behind, any of which would have been fatal on their own. His first efforts were directed at the stab wound that had been the original injury and means through which the First had entered Dean's body and soul.  
  
The damage to his bond brother's chest was significant and Raphael frowned as he began to work on it. The same wound caused by another knife would not nearly have been so severe, but the fact that the blade had been coated with pure First Darkness had caused physical damage all of its own, eating away at the flesh not unlike an acid might have. After that there was all of the secondary damage that the First had done to Dean's internal organs as it had slowly but steadily spread throughout his bond brother's body.  
  
Meticulously Raphael followed each and every path the First Darkness had taken, carefully repairing all of the damage that he found. When he was finished, he scanned Dean from head to toe, seeking anything that he had might have missed on his first sweep. There was nothing aside from some mild irritation on his friend's lower left leg, something so minor that he wasn't even sure that his bond brother would have been aware of it, but he healed it nonetheless. That done, he placed his left hand on Dean's chest, just above the human's heart, and pushed his Grace into it, willing it to restart. A second later it did and he followed that with a similar Grace infused command to his bond brother's lungs and brain.  
  
When Raphael pulled back to inspect his work he was pleased to see that to any human, Dean would now merely appear to be sleeping. To an angel it would be instantly apparent that there was no soul in the body, but his bond brother could now return to his body whenever Dean's soul had been sufficiently recreated and that let him feel like he'd been able to do something for his friend.  
  
" _Raphael, Brother, are you there?_ "  
  
The call came to him even as it was heard by the rest of the Host. Raphael tilted his head to one side as he tried to identify the voice. He had less opportunity to interact with the lesser angels than did either Michael or Castiel, but the voice still sounded familiar to him. A moment later he had it and he reached out, opening a personal connection between the two of them.  
  
" _Yes, Xarael?_ "  
  
" _What is happening down there, Raphael? Do you require assistance? I have two garrisons standing by._ "  
  
The words made Raphael smile, he could easily understand why Castiel had chosen her as his main aid when his brother had taken on the task of reorganizing Heaven. " _No, that will not be necessary, Xarael._ "  
  
" _I can't reach Castiel._ "  
  
" _That is because Castiel is focused on another matter at the moment. Death is recreating Dean._ "  
  
" _Oh, thank Father! We thought his soul had been obliterated already._ "  
  
" _So did we. I think Dean came very close to being completely extinguished, but there must have been just enough of his soul left for Death to work with when he arrived._ "  
  
Even as he spoke, Raphael could hear the Song of Heaven changing from the sorrow filled lamenting of before to something far brighter and praising of their Father. It heartened him even though he knew that their Father most likely didn't have anything to do with this turn of events. At least not directly. It still saddened him to think about it, but the fact remained that Father seemed to have gone and left them on their own for some unknown reason.  
  
" _Is there anything else that you require?_ " Xarael inquired.  
  
" _Not at the moment, but if you could see to it that Castiel's chores are temporarily reassigned that would be best. He will not want to leave his bond mate's side any time soon. Let me know if there is anything which you cannot find someone else to cover for._ "  
  
" _Yes, Raphael. And... please tell Dean that I am pleased he has not been obliterated._ "  
  
" _I will._ "  
  
Raphael wondered what it said about how much he had changed that he now knew how much Xarael's particular phrasing would amuse his bond brother. It was not what a human would say in her place.  
  


* * *

  
  
Gwen cursed as she was forced to close her eyes once more and wondered if she shouldn't just keep them shut. The thing was, she really wanted to see what was going on as she'd never witnessed anything like it before and she was nearly a hundred percent sure that the glowing ball of light was her cousin's very soul. It was simply amazing. Sure, she had absolutely nothing to compare it to, but she sincerely doubted that having seen another human soul would make her feel any less amazed by Dean's. Her cousin just didn't seem to be able to do anything normally, no matter that Dean didn't seem to even try and do anything unusual.  
  
Because of all of that, Gwen desperately wanted to be able to look at the man all of her instincts were screaming at her wasn't human and what he was doing with Dean's soul. The thing was, between the light show Michael and Raphael had put on earlier that had left her ears bleeding and her eyes aching, and the blinding light from seconds ago, she wasn't sure if that was such a good idea anymore. Hell, if it hadn't been for Bobby's warning earlier she wasn't sure that she'd have closed her eyes fast enough the first time not to lose them. As soon as the older hunter had told her to close them she'd remembered what happened to most people who looked directly at angelic Grace, but it had completely slipped her mind before that.  
  
Part of Gwen wanted to be angry with Michael for not having warned them of what he was about to do, but the rest of her could understand why it hadn't occurred to him to do so. The archangel had far greater concerns at that particular moment after all. Speaking of which, she could still hardly believe what had all just happened. When reading the books that Samuel had bought, she'd been unable to prevent herself from feeling a little jealous. She'd tried to stop herself from doing so, knowing that it had all been a lot less glamorous in real life, but that hadn't helped. Being caught up in it now only confirmed what she'd rationally known to be true. Her cousin had only been with them for a few days and already she'd gone through the entire emotional spectrum and been endangered herself.  
  
It didn't make a difference to Gwen's determination to help in any way that she could, but it did make her think twice about the risks involved. She'd have to brush up on all of her fighting skills and see if either of her cousins could recommend some new tactics for her to learn or improve herself in. Speaking of risks, she turned her face away from Dean and... whatever was with her cousin and tried opening one of her eyes. The light wasn't nearly so bad now, casting all kinds of strange shadows and reflections on the wall, but she could deal with it.  
  
With no more immediate threat (hell, if  _three_  archangels couldn't handle the situation then what good could she possibly do?), Gwen turned her attention to the one person that she could help; Samuel. She didn't know what had happened here, but given the condition he was in and the fact that not one of the archangels had taken the second that would be needed in order to heal him, she knew that it couldn't be good. Unlikely as it may be, she wasn't going to take any chances and so she doused Samuel with some of the Holy water that she always carried on her. There was absolutely no reaction so she crept closer and started looking him over. There was an ugly knot on the back of Samuel's head and a hand-shaped bruise forming at his throat.  
  
The latter made Gwen frown, but it was immediately obvious who was responsible for strangling Samuel as the dainty shape of the bruise indicated that it had been made by a female hand and she definitely hadn't done it which left just one other person and there was absolutely no doubt in her mind how Michael would react if Samuel had threatened or hurt Dean.  
  
The only question now was why had Samuel done it? What had possibly possessed him to attack, let alone try to kill, his own beloved grandson if he hadn't actually been possessed?  
  



	165. Chapter 164

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Death and Dean have a conversation about what happened.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
In the end, Death was pleased that he'd restored Dean Winchester's angelic bonds as the two archangels had managed to do what he'd hoped and keep the human calm when Dean had regained enough of his awareness to realize exactly who he was. Truth be told, he was a little surprised at how quickly the human had recognized him as it was even faster than he'd expected it to be.  
  
Just as he'd known would happen, Death already found himself even more fascinated by Dean Winchester than before. As a result, he found that he disliked the way the human's soul reacted to his presence. The archangels were able to keep Dean from resisting him but they could do nothing about the fear that the human felt. He found that he disliked it, especially after what he had just done for the soul and the effort it had taken him.  
  
Despite all of the countless souls that he had held- literally in the palm of his hands- Death could unequivocally state that Dean Winchester's was unique. Reluctantly he had to admit that his old friend had truly outdone himself with this one but he couldn't help but wonder if God had fully known exactly what it was that he was making or seeking to achieve. That alone, though, would have made him proceed with the recreation of this soul and kept him interested as he'd love to see his old friend overcome by one of his own creations.  
  
If there was anyone who could and would stand up to God, it was this boy who'd dared to come face him with his own scythe in hand and with the intention of stealing his ring. Death smiled fondly at the memory. Yes, Dean Winchester would definitely stand up to his old friend and probably be less afraid in doing so than when the human had faced him. He couldn't help but feel proud of that even if he currently wished that the boy wasn't trembling so hard in his hands. A soul though couldn't lie or deceive itself and he was sure that the annoyance he felt was because Dean knew that, which was surprising knowledge for a human.  
  
Death wasn't sure why he was still surprised by anything about this particular soul given all that he already knew about Dean Winchester.  
  
" _Death,_ " Dean finally said, acknowledging him verbally when he was done recreating the human's soul.  
  
There was a surprising vulnerability in Dean's voice and Death felt how the soul clung to its archangels, drawing both strength and comfort from them. The bonds between each of them were unexpectedly strong and spoke of a previously unheard of connection between a human and an angel, let alone an archangel. It intrigued him even further and made him wonder if this too had been part of God's plan or whether this was part of how it had all spiralled out of control on his old friend. It would be interesting to find out. It was as he was examining the bonds closer that he realized something else; some of the vulnerability and terror which still shook Winchester's soul was the result of the severe trauma it had just undergone and not simply a reaction to his presence.  
  
It relieved Death in a way and also made a lot of sense given that the total extermination of a soul was something far worse than anything that even Dean Winchester had ever experienced before.  
  
" _Dean,_ " Death replied evenly, fascinated by how even just his use of the boy's name affected the soul, making it shudder at having drawn the personal attention of someone like him.  
  
So this was what had always lain beneath Dean's mask of bravado. Death had always known that this was there to some extent, but he had never quite dug deep enough to discover the full extent of it. Apparently the human had less of a death wish than he had previously thought. Well, either that or things had changed enough in Winchester's life for the human's priorities in that regard to have changed significantly. Given the bonds Dean now currently had with two of his old friend's archangels, he would not be particularly surprised to learn that it was the latter.  
  
" _I... uh... look, thanks, okay?_ " Dean finally stammered, soul twisting with discomfort but the words still coming out.  
  
" _Thanks?_ " Death couldn't help but question.  
  
This was much too intriguing and more fun than he had experienced in far longer than Death cared to remember. Being as strong and powerful as he was did have its drawbacks as his true pleasures were few and far in-between.  
  
" _Yeah, for saving me,_ " Dean replied, still not even remotely at ease but the words flowing faster nonetheless. " _For... stopping it, whatever the Hell that was. It-_ "  
  
Pity overcame Death for the first time in millennia and he found himself shifting his grasp on the soul, though the way it reacted indicated that his touch was not soothing as intended. He was more than a little out of practice when it came to eliciting anything other than fear, death or resignation from a human. Nevertheless, the intent was there now as he had never approved of the extinguishing of a soul- it was so wasteful when the soul could so easily be transformed into something new and different- and knew from previous experience how traumatic surviving such an ordeal could be for a human.  
  
Clearly sensing the boy's distress, the two archangels reacted, bringing Dean Winchester's soul even further under their protective and loving embrace. Death wondered if they could even fathom what it was that their precious human had just experienced. Though they could understand it academically, he doubted that they could translate that into a true understanding, their Grace being so different from a soul in that particular regard. Whether they understood it or not, though, they could still tell the effect that the experience'd had on their human and that was clearly enough for them to react.  
  
In a way Death envied all of them their close connections. It was something which he had never truly experienced himself, being a far more solitary creature. Truthfully he'd wondered about it sometimes, but rarely was he envious of the bonds other creatures formed and shared. Not only had he witnessed them ending poorly, but they had simply not appealed to him. He could hardly even tolerate his own brothers most of the time, let alone someone who would place even greater demands on his time and attention.  
  
Still, there were times when he wondered. Thankfully they were normally fleeting in nature as he was sure these would be.  
  
" _It would have been the complete eradication of your soul,_ " Death stated, not sure if the boy had fully grasped that. " _Any longer and you would have been utterly gone forever._ "  
  
The way Dean Winchester shuddered and clung even harder to his archangels told Death that the soul hadn't fully understood what had been happening, just that it had been worse than Hell itself. Even now he doubted if the human fully understood what it meant for a soul to be extinguished, but he had little doubt that the boy wouldn't remain ignorant for long. The protective and clinging behavior of the archangels would clue him in soon enough.  
  
" _Yeah, well, thanks for that,_ " Dean finally replied. " _Seriously._ "  
  
Even if a soul couldn't lie, Death knew perfectly well that didn't mean that they had to act on what they knew to be true. Therefore he took the words for what they were as he knew the hunter would normally rather be caught dead than have to admit any sentiment of this nature to anything it viewed as supernatural in nature. Well, almost anything, certain angels had clearly been excepted from that lack of distinction. In the end Dean Winchester was still so very human despite all of the soul's peculiarities and uniqueness.  
  
It was a most captivating duality.  
  
" _Consider us even now,_ " Death responded, keeping his true motivations hidden. " _And tell that little angel of yours my debt to him is cleared too._ "  
  
" _Yeah, sure._ "  
  
With a last good look at the soul now that it wasn't obscured by a body, Death left. The angels could take care of the rest.

 

* * *

  
  
When the very  _feel_  of the room changed, Bobby was unable to keep his eyes closed any longer. Carefully he opened them, shielding his eyes with his hand. It took him a moment to get used to the sheer intensity of the light, but it didn't seem to be damaging, which was a definite plus, though he wasn't sure that he could have looked away even if that hadn't been the case.  
  
Dean's soul was still spinning in the air, but Death had gone and Bobby now saw Michael moving forwards to take hold of Dean. It was strange how quickly and easily he'd come to think of what was essentially a giant ball of light as Dean instead of the boy's meatsuit, but it just seemed so fitting. It was almost as if the light somehow emitted the  _feel_  of Dean and he felt sure that he'd have recognized the eldest Winchester even if he hadn't already known that it was Dean.  
  
Bobby didn't care how much the boy protested, but as soon as he was sure that Dean could physically handle it, he was clutching the boy to himself and he hadn't yet decided if he was ever letting go again. It seemed like every time he let Dean out of his sight something happened to the boy he saw as a son and he wasn't sure how much more he could take and that was even without knowing just how Dean and Michael had gotten stabbed through the chest as Becky Rosen had mentioned they were during that Rite of Contressa. Or whatever else had transpired in the year he'd been stupid enough to allow a true distance between them.  
  
That was one mistake that Bobby was sure he'd never ever forgive himself for even if it seemed like Dean somehow had.  
  
"Raphael?" Michael asked.  
  
"His body is fully healed and ready for the return of his soul," Raphael replied.  
  
"Castiel," Michael said, offering Dean's soul.  
  
The way the boy twined himself around Castiel's hand made something within Bobby ache as he thought inexplicably of Karen and though his eyes were watering by now, he couldn't look away. Having the opportunity to see a soul was rare enough (and he had to admit to himself that he'd been jealous when he'd learned that the boys had), but to actually  _see_  one being brought back to life was something else entirely. Even if it hadn't been Dean's he'd have wanted to watch it.  
  
For a while nothing happened as Castiel just held Dean's soul in his hand and Bobby wondered if the angel was communicating with the boy. Then Castiel moved his arm down and  _into_  Dean's meatsuit and it was all that he could do not to shout or rush forwards as it just looked so wrong. A moment later though the boy's whole body convulsed and Dean grasped for air. His euphoria was quickly dashed at the way in which the boy's meatsuit jerked erratically as if Dean had little to no control over it.  
  
Before Bobby could do anything, Castiel scooped Dean up in his arms and pulled him close as if the boy weighed nothing at all instead of being a full grown- and indeed larger than average- guy. Dean made an incoherent little noise before grasping hold of Castiel and burying his face into the angel's chest, the boy's whole body shuddering visibly.  
  
"Dean?" Sam questioned worriedly.  
  
Castiel glanced over at the younger Winchester. "Later," was all the angel said before disappearing abruptly with his precious burden.  
  
"Hey!" Bobby couldn't help but protest along with Sam.  
  
"Where'd they go?" Sam demanded, leaping to his feet.  
  
"You need to give them some time," Michael responded. "Dean needs time with his bond mate in order to recover."  
  
"Bond mate?" Bobby questioned.  
  
"He hasn't told you."  
  
"Obviously not, ya idjit."  
  
"It's the angelic equivalent of husband, Bobby," Sam stated. "Dean and Cas did some kind of angelic marriage ritual and now they're bonded, soul to Grace."  
  
"What?" Bobby demanded, incredulous.  
  
Dean had married? The boy had  _married_  and not told him? The news hurt far more than he'd have expected that it would even though he knew that it was probably his own fault. But still, why hadn't Dean told him?  
  
The boy had  _married_!  
  
It explained a lot about the way that Dean and Castiel had been acting lately and part of Bobby wondered why he hadn't seen it before. But he knew why, this was  _Dean_  they were talking about after all. While he'd never doubted the boy's ability to love someone enough for a successful marriage, he'd always feared that Dean had been far too damaged by the scars of his life to ever let someone in far enough for that type of relationship. Which was precisely one of the reasons why he'd been so willing to give the boy some distance with Lisa.  
  
Bobby was pleased to learn that he'd been wrong about Dean's ability to create such connections.  
  
"He told you and not Bobby Singer?" Michael questioned, tone clearly surprised for once.  
  
"Hey!" Sam protested. "He just did, said he was gonna tell the others as well when Samuel walked in and..."  
  
"And what?" Bobby demanded. "What the Hell happened here?"  
  
"I don't know. It was all so unexpected. Samuel literally just came into the room, walked up to Dean and stabbed him."  
  
"Was he possessed?"  
  
"No, he was not," Michael stated, face tight with what even Bobby could tell was anger.  
  
"Then what was wrong with him?" Gwen demanded. "Samuel loves Dean, he'd never do anything to hurt him."  
  
"Of that I have little doubt, what happened here isn't his fault, it's Simiel's."  
  
"Simiel?" Raphael demanded, looking up from where the archangel had moved to Samuel's side.  
  
"Yes, look deep into his mind."  
  
"What are you two talking about?" Bobby asked, not at all liking where this sounded like it was headed.  
  
"Simiel must have been the one who broke into Heaven and stole Samuel Campbell's soul," Michael explained. "She resurrected him specifically for this purpose."  
  
"But how? I've spent over a year with Samuel and he seemed perfectly normal!" Gwen exclaimed.  
  
"He would have been for the most part," Raphael replied, pulling his hand away from Samuel's head. "Simiel planted the compulsion deep within his subconscious mind. He would have been totally unaware of its presence there even as it exerted part of its influence on him."  
  
"What influence?" Bobby questioned.  
  
"The compulsion to find Dean," Sam realized. "Christian was right, it wasn't natural."  
  
"No, it was not, at least not in this case," Michael confirmed. "The only reason that Samuel wasn't driven to finding Dean far sooner was because of the way in which Simiel implanted the compulsion. She hid it deep so that we would not notice it without a careful and invasive probe."  
  
"So is that why he only acted on it now, despite having been around Dean for a while now?" Bobby inquired.  
  
"Yes, precisely," Raphael confirmed. "Not only did implanting the command so deeply hide it, but it also meant that it wouldn't be activated the instant that Samuel had access to Dean. Which was precisely when Castiel, Michael and I were most cautious. Simiel knew that if we encountered him, we would lower our guard after our initial assessment had found him to be no threat and once we assumed him to be an ally."  
  
"We did precisely what she wanted us to," Michael agreed.  
  
"How do you even know all of this already?" Sam demanded. "It's only just happened."  
  
"When I arrived earlier, I saw that Castiel was already tending to Dean and knew Raphael would be best suited to help him, so I focused my attention first on assessing if any threat remained. Though Castiel had already rendered Samuel semi-coherent, I needed to ensure that he would not be of any further danger to Dean or anyone else," Michael explained.  
  
"So now what?" Gwen demanded. "Can you undo the compulsion?"  
  
"No," Raphael stated bluntly. "It is interwoven far too deeply into his mind for us to be able to undo it. The only way to ensure that Samuel isn't forced to act on it again at a later time is to destroy that part of his brain, but doing so will kill him."  
  
"What? Are you sure?" Bobby asked. "There's really no way to just save him?"  
  
"I am sorry but no, Simiel did far too good a job for us to be able to undo it."  
  
"And what if we just send Samuel to the other side of the globe, would that work?" Sam questioned. "He could help us remotely with research and things."  
  
"You do not understand the power of this type of compulsion," Michael replied. "Even if he is made aware that it exists, he will be powerless to resist it. Although keeping him far from Dean would provide some temporary relief, the compulsion would only grow in his mind until he is compelled to seek Dean out, at which point he will attempt to kill him once more."  
  
"And that is a risk we simply cannot afford to take," Raphael declared firmly. "Not again."  
  
"What did Samuel do anyway?" Gwen inquired. "That poison you mentioned, this First, what is it?"  
  
"It's called First Darkness and it's the true essence of chaos and destruction," Michael explained. "It not only almost killed Dean, but practically extinguished his very soul itself forever."  
  
Bobby felt his stomach drop at that. "What do you mean, extinguished?"  
  
"I mean that Dean would have been gone forever. When a soul is literally destroyed as it is with First Darkness, it is gone."  
  
"But Heaven and Hell-" Sam began.  
  
"Need there to be a soul. The soul goes there after a physical death, this would have been a spiritual death as well. There would have been no afterlife of any kind whatsoever. Dean would have been eradicated in every sense of the word."  
  
"Except for God, right?" Sam asked desperately.  
  
Bobby knew precisely how the boy felt. The thought of what Michael was saying was enough to make him feel physically ill. The mere idea of Dean being permanently destroyed was not something he even wanted to contemplate, let alone know had nearly happened. As in so nearly happened that even the archangels had clearly thought that it  _had_  happened. He had to stagger back to a chair or he'd fall to the ground as his knees turned to jelly.  
  
He never thought he'd actually wish for Dean to die, but death would be infinitely preferable to what had apparently nearly happened.  
  
"No, not even Father could have brought Dean back if his soul had been fully extinguished," Raphael stated. "Once it is gone, no one can bring it back. We were extremely lucky that Death got here just in time. I was not even aware that he was capable of recreating a soul from a sliver of the original entity."  
  
"Nor was I," Michael added.  
  
"How on Earth did Samuel get his hands on something like that?" Gwen demanded, voice shaken.  
  
"Simiel must have given it to him, concealed somehow until such a time as the compulsion was activated," Michael offered. "It is the only explanation that I can think of."  
  
"But Dean will be fine now, right?" Bobby asked, not entirely sure that he wanted an answer to that for fear of what it might be.  
  
"He should be," Raphael replied cautiously. "Physically he has been fully healed and his soul has been restored in its entirety, but a trauma of that kind can always leave its mark."  
  
"In addition to which having had his soul recreated by Death has left it superficially altered, which may also have an effect," Michael added.  
  
"And what about me?" Sam asked, voice shaken. "Was Simiel the one who pulled me out of the cage? Did she leave a similar compulsion within me? Am I also a danger to Dean?"  
  



	166. Chapter 165

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael checks to make sure that none of the other members of Dean's family have been compromised.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
The moment the question fully registered, Michael was before Sam Winchester, making the human jump a little in surprise.  
  
"This will not be pleasant," Michael warned, placing a hand on the head of Dean's brother.  
  
Sam nodded and swallowed thickly. "What do I have to do?"  
  
"Relax and let me in. If you fight me, it will only hurt more."  
  
"Won't the rite that we've been performing make what you want to do impossible?" Bobby asked. "Or won't this mess that up?"  
  
"No," Michael replied. "This is not the same thing as the taking of a vessel, something which I could not do with Sam regardless of whether I had his permission to do so or not. This is me probing his mind. He can try and fight me on it, but that would only work to a certain extent unless he was particularly gifted or strong with his mental defenses."  
  
"I won't fight," Sam promised, face pale. "I gotta know if I'm a danger to Dean or not."  
  
"You weren't obsessed with finding him, though," Gwen pointed out. "Doesn't that make it unlikely?"  
  
"It does decrease the odds of it significantly," Raphael agreed. "Especially since I think that Simiel would have either kept Sam or imbued him with the compulsion to seek out Lucifer if she'd been the one to free him from Hell. We cannot, however, take any more chances, not now that we know that she has already used this tactic once."  
  
"After Sam, the two of you are next," Michael stated, looking at Gwen and Bobby.  
  
Michael could feel how both Dean's cousin and his old friend startled a little, though neither of them offered a protest for which he was glad. His vessel had taught him the importance of always seeking permission before he simply performed anything on a human, but he suspected that this was one case where he would have violated that rule if necessary. He was not risking his precious little one again, not for something which could be prevented or checked for so easily.  
  
On some level Michael knew that he wasn't being entirely reasonable and that Dean would not approve, but he couldn't help it. Not with what he was still feeling from his bond brother over their newly restored connection. Never before had he been this aware of it in such a negative manner. Although Dean hadn't been particularly comfortable with their bond at the start, his friend had always accepted it on a subconscious level and thus most of what he'd received from it had been either content or happy in nature. Now, however, he was only receiving turbulent and distressing signals from it. His vessel was still in severe distress despite being with his bond mate and all of his instincts were crying at him to go to Dean right away and help Castiel soothe him.  
  
Unfortunately Michael could not do that until he'd ensured that it was safe for his vessel to remain here. He could tell Castiel to take Dean back to their nest, but he knew that sooner or later they would have to deal with the question of whether Simiel had gotten to any other members of Dean's family. And knowing his little one, he knew that his vessel would be asking about that and what had happened soon enough and he didn't want Dean to have to worry about that while recovering. Plus he had also seen how much his hunter liked being around Bobby Singer and, sometimes, his brother, so the sooner he checked to see whether they had been compromised or not, the sooner that they could help take care of Dean if they were safe.  
  
"I will begin now," Michael stated, meeting Sam Winchester's gaze.  
  
"Okay," Sam replied, taking a deep breath.  
  
It was a very human reaction Michael now knew and therefore he didn't say anything as he once would have. During his time spent with Dean, he had noticed how humans often performed a physical action such as sighing or taking a deep breath when bracing themselves for something unpleasant. He'd attempted imitating the gestures in order to try and figure out why they were performed but had been unable to do so and he'd simply attributed it to their having always had a physical body.  
  
As soon as he felt that Sam was ready, Michael reached out with his Grace and started to probe the mind of his vessel's brother. Just as he'd expected, he soon ran into some of Sam Winchester's natural defenses but they were nothing which he could not overcome quite readily. Though some part of him wanted to simply brush them aside carelessly, he knew that Dean would be upset with him if he did, so he was careful to circumvent them as gently as possible knowing that to do so painlessly wasn't possible. True to his word, though, Sam attempted to lower his defenses as much as possible and tried not to resist his presence.  
  
Despite all of that, Michael couldn't help but notice how much less aware of himself Sam Winchester was.  
  
If his vessel were to be in the same situation, Michael knew that Dean would be far more aware of his own mental defenses and what it was that was being done to him. It was a startling contrast to see Sam Winchester's mind after having been so close to his little one for so long. Even if he took into account the fact that Dean would always be unique as his bond brother was his one true vessel, the difference was still glaringly obvious. And all of that was with another human who was not only a vessel himself, but one who'd been bonded with an archangel as well. He could only imagine what a normal human would feel like in comparison to his little hunter.  
  
As Raphael had said, it was highly unlikely that Simiel had been the one to pull Sam Winchester from Hell and therefore the odds of Dean's brother having a compulsion were vanishingly small, but nevertheless Michael was more and more relieved when his expansive probe failed to find anything unexpected or out of the ordinary. There were traces of his little brother's presence and a few scars left behind from Sam's demon blood drinking days, but thankfully that was all.  
  
When Michael pulled his Grace back and lifted his hand away from Sam's head, he was surprised when the human staggered back and collapsed into a chair. He hadn't thought that it would have taken that much out of his vessel's brother. Perhaps Dean's surprising strength and resilience had been influencing his judgment, though. He would have to be more careful with the other two.  
  
"Well?" Bobby demanded impatiently. "Is Sam fine?"  
  
"Yes, he has not been compromised."  
  
"Oh, thank God!" Gwen stated before her head snapped up and her eyes opened wide. "Shit! Sorry, about that, I didn't mean to, it just sorta slipped out."  
  
Michael frowned, sharing a quick look with Raphael. Though he disliked the blasphemy, Dean had taken the time to explain to both him and Raphael that humans didn't always mean it as an insult to Father when they uttered it. Given the genuine remorse he now felt from his bond brother's cousin and that she'd retracted it on her own almost instantly, he was willing to forgive her. Besides, he knew from Castiel how long it had taken his brother to get Dean to this very point so he could hardly fault Gwen Campbell.  
  
"Bobby Singer," Michael intoned, approaching the hunter.  
  
To his credit the man merely nodded once, not flinching or wavering in the slightest and Michael found his respect for the human growing. That Bobby clearly meant so much to Dean as to be seen as a substitute father figure would always have earned the human a certain amount of respect from him, but now he was starting to see why the man had earned it from his vessel to begin with. As he'd suspected, Bobby had even less awareness of his mental defenses than Sam and- what surprised him even more- had practically no concept of himself as a soul. To the hunter his physical self  _was_  his true self. The fact that it was essentially merely a body, a vessel almost, for his true essence was almost entirely absent.  
  
A slightly closer probe showed Michael that the hunter  _knew_  about it, but the concept was entirely foreign to Bobby beyond that. It threw him a little for a moment, but then he realized that it actually made sense and it even explained a lot about humans and their behavior that had continued to elude him despite all that he'd recently learned since joining with Dean and Castiel.  
  
Humans were, when it came right down to it, born into their vessels and spent their whole lives like that. With the odd exception like Dean and Sam or any other vessel that joined with their angel, most of them never had the occasion to learn what it was like to truly be themselves. It wasn't until that moment, when the soul became detached from the body for some reason, that they ever learned what it was that they really were.  
  
The thought stunned Michael and he had a hard time accepting it even now that it had occurred to him. The mere thought of not being fully aware of himself at all times was so foreign in and of itself that he struggled to comprehend it. But it fit and he'd witnessed with fascination all the twists and turns that Dean's mind could take when asleep often enough to know that humans truly had no control over certain aspects of themselves. He'd just never realized how deep that lack of awareness and understanding could run.  
  
"You are free from Simiel's influence as well," Michael declared when he'd swept the man's mind thoroughly and withdrew.  
  
Bobby Singer swayed a little but the man's sheer determination kept him upright in his chair and Michael suppressed a smile. Yes, he was truly beginning to see why his little one liked this particular human so much. He would have disapproved of Singer's general lack of emotional displays except that he'd clearly been able to read the hunter's intentions about the hug, so this one was loath to perform them but would when he felt it necessary. He was pretty sure that was already a step further than Dean's father had tended to go.  
  
Michael still wasn't sure why humans didn't simply just show and tell each other what they actually felt. Why did they need to make everything so much more complicated than it really was?  
  
"Gwen," Michael said, turning to face her.  
  
"Yeah, okay," Gwen replied as she stepped forwards.  
  
Unlike the others, Michael noted that she wavered slightly. It wasn't a conscious action, or at least he didn't think so, but rather an instinctive reaction to what was about to happen. Unlike the others, she was very new to this type of hunting and he was merely happy that she was consenting.  
  
"This will work best if you try and relax," Michael told her kindly as he placed his hand on her forehead.  
  
Gwen snorted. "I'll give it the good old college try."  
  
The expression meant nothing to Michael but it seemed to help her, much as Dean's use of them often helped his vessel. He was merely pleased at being able to instantly recognize it as an expression. It was progress, as for the rest, he'd simply have to ask his human later. Hopefully it would draw a smile from Dean.  
  
The probe was the quickest of them all since Gwen had never been touched by angel before and so there was no lingering interferences to double check. That was a perfect place for Simiel to have hidden her compulsion if she'd placed any and Michael knew how good she'd always been at that kind of delicate work. Soon enough he was able to withdraw, though he only moved his hand as far as Gwen's shoulder as she swayed alarmingly while she recovered.  
  
"Wow," Gwen finally muttered. "Can you say ow?"  
  
"Why would Michael wish to say that?" Raphael inquired.  
  
His brother's mistake seemed to be precisely what the humans needed just now as Gwen began to giggle uncontrollably and then outright laugh, the latter action was soon followed by both Sam Winchester and Bobby Singer.  
  
" _What did I say, Brother?_ " Raphael inquired, confused.  
  
" _It was one of those expressions,_ " Michael replied.  
  
" _Oh, do you know what it means?_ "  
  
" _No._ "  
  
" _Their laughter does not sound enjoyable._ "  
  
" _I do not think that is the point of it. I believe it is stress relief._ "  
  
" _Humans are strange._ "  
  
" _Yes, they are, Brother,_ " Michael agreed.  
  


* * *

  
  
Not sure that he would ever comprehend humans no matter how long he stayed around them, Raphael turned his attention back to Samuel, running his fingers over the bruises that Michael had left on the hunter's throat. They vanished under his power, as did the concussion that Castiel had inadvertently given the human. With both of those healed, Samuel began to wake up on his own and he only waited long enough to be sure that the compulsion wasn't in control before backing up.  
  
Although Raphael had no qualms with telling the hunter what had happened, he'd observed enough of the interactions among this particular family to know that the bad news would come best from one of the others. As he'd predicted, both Gwen and Sam moved to Campbell's side once they realize what was happening.  
  
"Samuel?" Gwen asked softly. "Can you hear me?"  
  
"Yeah," Samuel replied, blinking and looking around in confusion. "What happened? Why are we in the barn?"  
  
"What's the last thing that you remember?" Bobby inquired, moving closer as well.  
  
"I was inside, having another cup of coffee as I couldn't seem to wake up. What happened? How'd I get in here?" A pause. "Was I possessed?"  
  
"Not possessed, exactly," Sam began. "Turns out you were brought back for a reason, a backup plan if you will."  
  
"A backu- I was an ace in the hole?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"For who?"  
  
The way that the others looked between themselves was a dead giveaway that something wasn't right and Raphael didn't understand why they didn't just tell Samuel the truth. If he could already see that it was bad news, then certainly the hunter could tell as well.  
  
"Whose backup plan was I?" Samuel demanded once more, voice steel.  
  
"Simiel's," Gwen replied softly, quickly explaining what had happened.  
  
From the way that Samuel blanched, Raphael could tell that the emotion driving the man all along had been genuine, even if the drive itself hadn't been. It was a small token, but one which he knew would mean a lot to both Samuel and Dean.  
  
"And it's still there now?" Samuel checked a few seconds after Gwen finished. "Even though I technically already carried out what I was programmed to do?"  
  
"Yes," Michael confirmed. "And we cannot undo it."  
  
"So none of it's real? Everything that I feel for Dean, it's all fake?"  
  
"No," Raphael corrected immediately. "Your emotions are true and your own, it is just the obsession that is Simiel's."  
  
"How do you know that?" Sam inquired with a frown.  
  
"There are many forms that obsession can take, Sam," Michael replied, voice displeased. "You of all people should know that. By allowing the compulsion to utilize Samuel's own feelings for Dean, Simiel was able to keep it more hidden."  
  
"Hey, speaking of obsessions of the negative variety," Gwen began.  
  
"Christian," Bobby finished, turning to look at them.  
  
"Dean's other cousin?" Raphael asked.  
  
"Yes, he was obsessed with Dean but in exactly the opposite way of Samuel."  
  
"Whereas Dean could do no wrong as far as Samuel was concerned, Christian saw everything that he did as wrong somehow," Gwen elaborated.  
  
"Did he wish to find Dean?" Michael inquired.  
  
"No, just the opposite."  
  
"Then it seems unlikely that he would have been manipulated by Simiel, though it would be best to check."  
  
"Can you have him come to us?" Raphael questioned.  
  
Sam laughed harshly. "Christian come back? When Hell freezes over. He couldn't get away from us fast enough once he'd made up his mind to do so."  
  
"I'll see what I can do," Gwen offered. "But Sam is right, it's unlikely that he'll do so. And even if he did, he wouldn't let you near him."  
  
"Why not?" Raphael asked.  
  
"Because you're with Dean."  
  
"That does not sound like Simiel's work, but rather pure human jealousy and dislike," Michael commented.  
  
"The fact that he was right about the nature of my obsession won't help matters any either," Samuel added.  
  
The silence that fell over the group then was by no means comfortable and Raphael was unsure how to move the situation along to what they had to do next. He knew from previous experience that the actions of angels could often be seen as cold or uncaring by humans and he had no desire to appear so now to those who meant so much to his bond brother. That didn't change what needed to be done though and from the subtle signs he was picking up from Michael he knew that things were not going as well with Dean and Castiel as he'd hoped that they were.  
  
"Can... can I see Dean?" Samuel finally asked, breaking the silence. "Just once more before...?"  
  
"I'm sorry, but no," Michael responded. "Though you have no more First Darkness, we cannot know how the compulsion might affect you should you be near him once more, especially now that the secret of its existence is out. Besides, Dean is still recovering from what happened."  
  
"Wait, you said that he was all better," Sam interrupted.  
  
"No, we said that he survived," Michael corrected. "Physically your brother has been fully healed, but his soul was nearly completely extinguished, that is not an experience that can simply be shrugged off easily."  
  
"Oh, God," Samuel muttered, eyes squeezed shut for a moment before they snapped open and sought out Bobby. "Tell Dean that I'm sorry, that I'm so,  _so_  sorry and that if I'd known, I'd have stayed as far away from him as I possibly could. Please tell him that for me."  
  
"Of course I'll tell him," Bobby reassured. "But if I know anything, it'll be that Dean says you have nothing to be sorry about. This was  _not_  your fault, Samuel, and there was no way that you could have known what Simiel had done to you."  
  
"Still, it was my meatsuit that was used and my hand that stabbed him. We should have thought more closely about how I'd gotten out of Heaven in the first place and why."  
  
"Hey, Samuel," Sam said, drawing his grandfather's attention. "My return was inexplicable as well and yet I have no such compulsion. We did all that we could to figure out what had happened and since we've never encountered anything quite like this before there was nothing that we could have done."  
  
The words didn't quite seem to do what Winchester had intended, but since Samuel Campbell was related to Dean that didn't particularly surprise Raphael. His bond brother had to have gotten his inherent stubbornness from multiple places to have it as strongly as Dean did.  
  
" _Raphael?_ " Michael inquired.  
  
" _I will take care of it, Brother,_ " Raphael replied. " _You go to your vessel and help Castiel take care of him._ "  
  
Samuel closed his eyes briefly once more before he nodded to himself and got to his feet. "Okay, I'm ready."  
  
"Whoa, wait, just like that?" Gwen demanded, startled.  
  
"I refuse to stick around longer for selfish reasons and be a danger to Dean. Besides, everyone I need to see is here, everyone but for the one person that I can't see just now anyway."  
  
"What about resurrection?" Sam suddenly questioned, turning to look at Michael and him. "Can't you kill him, undo whatever Simiel did and then just bring him back?"  
  
"Resurrection is not something to be performed lightly and incessantly," Raphael replied disapprovingly. "Humans are meant to die and their souls to pass on."  
  
"You've done it before."  
  
"In particular circumstances."  
  
"But-"  
  
"Sam, Raphael is right," Samuel interrupted, voice calm and accepting. "I was already dead before all of this started and was pulled out of Heaven and resurrected for no good. I've already had my life and it was a long and good one for a hunter."  
  
"But it's not fair!" Sam complained.  
  
"Life rarely is."  
  
"What's dead should stay dead," Bobby added quietly.  
  
"Like you haven't been brought back."  
  
"And believe me, ya idjit, if it had been done by anyone but Castiel, I'd have been damned suspicious about it too!"  
  
"Samuel will still go to Heaven, right?" Gwen asked, tears in her eyes. "What he did here now won't change that. Will it?"  
  
"No," Michael reassured her. "Samuel has earned his place in Heaven and there he shall return." With that his brother walked over to the hunter and placed a hand on his shoulder. "It has been an honor to know you and you shall be missed."  
  
"Th- thanks," Samuel replied, blinking when Michael flew off.  
  
Raphael remained where he was so that the others could say their goodbyes without feeling pressured. It took a while with all of the hunters making good use of the fact that, for once, they were able to say a proper goodbye to one of their own. When they were done, he stepped forward and placed a hand on Samuel's head.  
  
"Will it hurt?" the hunter inquired.  
  
"No, it shall not," Raphael replied gently.  
  
All it took was a little twist of his Grace and Raphael had Samuel's soul in his hands. He took special care to lower the body gently to the ground before he dismissed the reaper that had arrived and took the soul up to Heaven himself.


	167. Chapter 166

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean recovers with his archangels.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
Dean was hardly even aware of his husband's flying them away from the barn and even if Castiel hadn't done that, he'd still have curled himself around his bond mate just the same when he was pulled close. Audience be damned as he couldn't care less what he looked like just now. The transition from pure soul to meatsuit was hard enough at the best of times and he could well remember how disoriented he'd been upon waking up in his own grave. But add to that all of the other things that had happened to him this time and...  
  
Dean shuddered violently at the mere memory, pushing his face deeper into his angel's chest and wrapping himself around Castiel even as his husband's wings came up around them, pressing close as love and comfort washed over their bond. He'd hardly remembered it at first, when he'd spoken to Death, but it had all come rushing back to him soon enough. The all-consuming coldness that had- literally apparently- eaten away at him, body and soul. At first he'd just thought it the effect of having been stabbed so unexpectedly, but he'd soon been disabused of that particular notion.  
  
Instead of it fading into normal physical pain, the sensation had spread insidiously within him and Dean had quickly realized that it was affecting his soul as well as his meatsuit. He had some vague recollection of his husband appearing as well as Castiel's own frantic efforts and expression, but mostly he remembered the sheer aching loneliness from where his bonds with both Michael and Castiel had been brutally torn asunder. After months of constant companionship and a bond of the nature that he'd had with his husband, being utterly alone in his head had been horrendous and he couldn't understand how any angel had ever survived the loss of a bond mate.  
  
Just the mere memory of it had Dean whining and tugging almost violently at his restored bonds, but most especially the one with Castiel. The frantic way in which his husband replied let him know that he wasn't the only one having a hard time coming to grips with what had happened and he shifted suddenly. Needing to be closer, he pulled back slightly and twisted, manoeuvring one of his legs so that he straddled his angel's lap instead of sitting across it. This new position allowed him to wrap his legs around Castiel's waist and bury his face into his husband's neck while wrapping his arms around him to bury his hands onto the soft feathers at the base of his bond mate's wings. The moment he stopped moving, those wings that had moved aside to let him rearrange himself closed around him once more and Castiel's arms wrapped around his own back, slowly moving up and down in a soothing gesture, though whether it was to reassure him or his husband he wasn't sure. Nor did he particularly care.  
  
"Dean, Dean, Dean, Dean," Castiel murmured somewhat desperately.  
  
Dean wanted to reply, to say his husband's name, but the words simply wouldn't come out. Even with all of the horrors and agony that he could oh so easily remember, most of him felt completely and utterly numb. What had happened to him was entirely too much to process. Even with all that he'd experienced in his life and everything that had been done to him in Hell by Alastair, he had absolutely no reference with which to compare what had just happened. Death had called it the near eradication of his soul and he could well believe it.  
  
It was easily the worst experience of Dean's life and he'd been to Hell and enjoyed the sole attention of its Chief Inquisitor for forty years.  
  
"Beloved," Castiel whispered as Dean shuddered violently, probably hurting his husband's delicate feathers in the process with his iron grip. "Tell me what to do. What do you need?"  
  
"Cas," was all that Dean could force out.  
  
There were just no words to describe what had happened to him and Dean had never been particularly eloquent or wordy when it came to bad experiences to begin with. The irony was that he wanted to speak this time unlike all of those previous occasions. He wanted to reach out and connect with his bond mate verbally, to express how delighted he was to have Castiel back, to be able to  _feel_  his husband once more, but he simply couldn't. The words choked off in his throat, strangled long before they could ever find utterance and all that his attempts did was to make him think even more about what it had felt like to have their bond severed so abruptly and so brutally.  
  
Now it was Castiel's turn to tug at the bond savagely and Dean knew that some of his intentions and emotions were getting across despite his inability to talk. He moved with the bond, desperately trying to give his angel everything that he sought. The violence of it and the uncontrolled way his husband's emotions poured into him through their bond told him that he hadn't been the only one to have been utterly devastated by what had happened. For once, though, he didn't feel like it could have been worse when he tried to imagine how events had affected those who cared for him.  
  
Though the mere thought of having to continue on alone after losing their bond tore Dean up inside, just the memory of his very soul being annihilated lessened it considerably. Part of him felt bad about that, but only fleetingly as the instant that he allowed himself to think about what had followed the savage severance of his bonds, he was lost once more. It was like being dunked under again in a raging river or ocean after having briefly been able to come up for air. The undertow simply grasped him in its uncompromising grasp and swept him away and he was helpless to do anything other than be dragged along for the ride.  
  
It had been far worse than pain. Pain was something with which Dean had become intimately acquainted over the decades of his life and learned to deal with even if he'd never gained the ability to actually overcome it. But this? This hadn't been pain or agony or any other fancy word to describe the sensations that were caused when either physical or emotional damage was inflicted upon him and his meatsuit, or what his soul had viewed as his meatsuit in Hell.  
  
No, this had been something infinitely worse.  
  
This had been the soul equivalent of a meatsuit's pain.  
  
Dean wouldn't have been able to describe it any better than that even if his life had depended upon it. Not even if his husband's life had depended on it. The feeling had been so completely foreign to him despite all of the time that he'd spent as a soul- either in Hell or while with Michael- that he had no words to describe it. It had just been, and been his entire existence at that.  
  
His meatsuit's automatic shudder at the thought was prevented by how tightly Castiel was holding him and yet it wasn't tight enough for Dean. Not nearly close enough even if it bordered on hurting. He needed more- closer- and he needed it now. Already their bond was open wider than ever before, both of their desperate actions tearing at it and yet it wasn't even nearly enough.  
  
Dean whined mindlessly as his fingers scrabbled futilely at his angel's back, desperately seeking to pull Castiel even closer to him. His husband's words washed over him unheard as he was rocked from side to side while he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to forget. It wasn't working but he frantically wished that it would. He'd give anything to be able to not remember what it had felt like when his soul had literally been unraveled while he'd been both conscious and aware of it.  
  
There was a change in the air around him and then Dean felt a second presence reaching out to him. He grabbed at it blindly, feeling the sensation of his other archangel twining with his soul across their own bond. Between both Michael and Castiel and all of the love and comfort they felt for him, he was able to regain a little of his control but it was no big victory by any means and he felt like he was hanging on by his nails, dangling over an enormous drop that he didn't want to think too closely about.  
  
"Cas, Mike," Dean managed to say as another set of wings closed in around him and he felt more hands stroking him soothingly.  
  
"Little One."  
  
"Beloved."  
  
"Wh- what was that?"  
  
"It's called First Darkness," Castiel managed to force out, voice strangled.  
  
"It-" Michael began, breaking off.  
  
"I know, Death told me," Dean replied, trying to think of how he could get closer to his family.  
  
He wanted to climb inside Castiel, though Dean wasn't even sure  _that_  would be close enough to his husband for what he craved. If only he could be just a soul again, then he could commune with his angel directly, soul to Grace. They'd be able to twine their true essences together and he didn't care if they fused and were unable to ever part again as it still wouldn't be close enough as far as he was concerned.  
  
Dean froze as he suddenly realized that while  _he_  couldn't climb into Castiel,  _Michael_  could climb into him. That would give him the soul experience he was so desperately seeking just now and it would completely bathe him in the emotions currently so enrapturing and soothing to him. Not to mention the fact that before their bonding, he'd always been able to sense his husband the strongest while with Michael. Which meant that he'd be able to experience even more of their bond when joined with his bond brother now.  
  
The thought electrified Dean and it was a testament to how finely attuned Castiel was to his every emotion and impulse that he didn't seriously hurt himself in so suddenly twisting himself around to face Michael. Given how tightly his husband had been grasping him that should have seriously hurt, instead it merely stung a little. He liked that, though, as it meant not being entirely predictable even to his bond mate despite how well they knew each other. He'd hate to become boring to Castiel for being too easily read.  
  
"Little One?" Michael asked, clearly startled at so suddenly becoming the center of his attention.  
  
"Take me," Dean demanded.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I want... vessel, now please."  
  
The emotions were rising up within him once more to choke him and strangle his words and Dean hated it. Though he'd come to terms with feeling more and expressing those feelings in certain areas, this was most definitely not one of them and he desperately wished that he could cut these emotions off at the source.  
  
All other thoughts were abruptly cut off as Dean caught sight of the expression on his bond brother's face. "What?" he demanded, heart sinking fast.  
  
Castiel's arms tightened around him and Dean felt himself trembling and it took him a few seconds to realize that it was  _his soul_  that was doing so rather than his meatsuit. The realization stunned him as even normally he had more difficulty distinguishing the two from each other when not with Michael or if it wasn't directly tied to something pertaining to the bond with his husband. And what the hell was wrong with him? He was normally never like this! Was this because of what Death had done?  
  
Dean instantly shut down that line of thought, not wanting to go down that particular road just now.  
  
"Dean," Michael began, voice carefully neutral and that just scared him even more.  
  
"Just fucking tell me," Dean snapped as terror coiled in his gut.  
  
Michael closed his eyes. "The poison was originally designed to ruin a vessel."  
  
"What?"  
  
"It was created to ensure that a vessel could never be used by an angel again. The fact that it destroyed the human's soul and mind were merely enjoyable side effects for Lucifer."  
  
The arms that had settled around his waist rose up and pulled Dean against his husband's chest when he shrank back at those words. He curled up a little when Castiel moved to securely tuck his head beneath his angel's own. The position made it entirely impossible for him to feel anything but surrounded by his bond mate, driving off some of the wrenching emotions that had been unleashed within him as soon as the meaning of Michael's words had registered.  
  
"So, you're saying-" Dean began, pausing. "It's over? I can't be your vessel anymore?"  
  
"I don't know," Michael replied honestly.  
  
"What makes you doubt, Brother?" Castiel inquired.  
  
"Death managed to save Dean's mind and soul, both of which should not have been possible after First Darkness."  
  
Impossibly, hope blossomed within Dean. "Death did say that his debts to both of us were cleared."  
  
"Dean, even if he has not done enough to allow you to be my vessel once more, I would consider his debt to me cleared," Michael stated, reaching out to touch his face.  
  
There was a brief flare of 'chick-flick' thoughts, but Dean shoved it aside. His previous attitudes aside, he couldn't deny that he'd come to love being the center of attention of his archangels. Especially when he was feeling so vulnerable as he was just now. They were the only thing keeping him together at the moment and he damn well knew it. He was also pretty sure that he was the only one holding them together as well so it was all okay.  
  
"How do we know for sure?" Dean finally asked.  
  
"I suppose the only way to know is to attempt it," Michael responded.  
  
Castiel's arms tightened fractionally around him and Dean frowned. His husband knew that he didn't mind being Michael's vessel anymore and had actually come to enjoy it, not to mention that he'd been the one to request it this time. So what was wrong? He reluctantly pulled back slightly so that he could see his angel's face even as he examined what he felt from their bond more closely. There was the desperation that he himself was still struggling with as well as overwhelming feelings of devastation, loss and relief.  
  
"Cas?" Dean inquired, afraid of getting lost in it all before he figured it out.  
  
"It's nothing, I just... I want to hold you," Castiel replied softly.  
  
"Me too, but I want more and so do you and I've always felt you the strongest while with Mike. His Grace seems to enhance our connection."  
  
There was a ripple of amusement from his bond with Michael and Dean glanced over his shoulder at his bond brother.  
  
"Oh I see how it is, you just want me for my Grace," Michael teased.  
  
Dean narrowed his eyes and concentrated on their bond, poking it much as he did the archangel's Grace when they were joined. The startled expression that crossed his bond brother's face told him that he'd been successful.  
  
Castiel nuzzled the side of his face briefly before focusing on his brother. "Michael?"  
  
"I am happy to try if Dean wishes it."  
  
"Please," Dean said.  
  
Michael nodded at him once before his bond brother got up. Dean frowned but then realization dawned when Michael began closing the curtains and door. Oh, right, the last thing that they needed was to blind one of his family members. The thought brought a flash of his grandfather's face with Samuel's dead eyes back to him and he instantly shoved it aside, not wanting to think about it just now.  
  
Once the room had been closed off as much as possible, Dean shifted so that he was facing Michael once more, happily leaning back against his husband when Castiel's arms came to settle around him. He didn't want to lose contact with his bond mate any more than Castiel did and he couldn't help but wonder if they'd all but be joined at the hip for the foreseeable future. Surprisingly, he wasn't averse to the idea, which said more about his current state of mind than he truly cared to think about, so he didn't.  
  
"Brace yourself, Little One, and let me know the moment you feel any discomfort or pain," Michael said.  
  
"And just when we'd figured everything out too," Dean muttered.  
  
"Of course, can't have things going too smoothly, now can we?" Castiel snarked.  
  
The words startled Dean so much he was speechless for a moment before he twisted around to stare at his angel in shock. "Cas!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Oh, don't even try and pull that innocent act with me, Dude!"  
  
"Are you okay, Brother?" Michael questioned worriedly.  
  
Instead of a verbal reply, Dean was suddenly swamped with chaotic and frantic emotions. He squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to sort them all out in his head before he abandoned his efforts and just concentrated on comforting Castiel as best he could. What he could make out from his husband's flood of emotions was similar enough to what he was currently going through for him to know that all he could do was be there for his angel until it passed. Michael obviously felt similarly as his bond brother's wings came up to shield the both of them within their large embrace.  
  
Dean wasn't sure how much time had passed, but eventually Castiel managed to bring his emotions under enough control to pull back slightly and nod at them. Dean gave him a tight smile before turning back to Michael himself.  
  
"Do it," Dean stated.  
  
With a last glance at Castiel, Michael reached out place a hand on his chest and Dean forced himself to relax. It was harder than he'd expected as he'd never handled the unknown particularly well, but he truly wanted this to work so he forced himself to do it. At the first touch of his bond brother's Grace, he could already tell that something wasn't right as it didn't  _feel_  the same. Instead of sinking into him easily as Michael normally did, there was resistance of some sort. It felt like dissonance if he thought about it and he frowned.  
  
"What's going on?" Castiel demanded.  
  
"There is resistance," Michael replied, but it was with his true voice instead of Aunt Deirdre's.  
  
Strangely, Dean felt better just for hearing it. Concentrating, he focused on the dissonance and attempted to reduce it. It struggled against him but he was determined and managed to force it down a little.  
  
"What did you just do?" Michael demanded, shocked.  
  
"Not sure," Dean admitted through gritted teeth. "Try again."  
  
"I don't want to hurt you, Little One."  
  
"Do it."  
  
"You know he won't give up," Castiel added.  
  
Despite that, Dean could feel his husband monitoring him closely and he knew that it was to see if he was in pain and how much. He had no doubt that if his bond mate deemed it to be too much that Castiel's tune would change drastically but that was okay as it would only be done because of how much his angel cared for him.  
  
This time when Michael attempted to enter him, his bond brother got further but Dean could still feel the dissonance and resistance there. With a growl, he tried to grab hold of it. His first attempts were unsuccessful as he couldn't quite make it out and whatever it was it just kept slipping through his mental fingers. The more his frustration and anger rose within him, the harder it became and the realization made him want to scream at the unfairness of it all. Instead of giving in to that impulse, though, he turned his attention inward and tried to calm his own feelings. Clearly sensing what he was trying to do, the tone of the emotions coming over his bond with Castiel changed and he felt himself relaxing far faster than he normally would have.  
  
Dean took the proffered help, sending a silent thanks to his husband and waited until he was sure that he wouldn't lose his cool before turning his attention back to the task at hand. This time when he reached for the resistance he could feel that it wasn't actually a part of him. He frowned and dug deeper, quickly finding that it was almost more of a thin film of something that coated the inside of his meatsuit. Only it wasn't really something physical so much as  _emotional_  almost. Or spiritual perhaps? He wasn't quite sure what to make of it, but he knew that he didn't like it and it had to go.  
  
Now that he was taking the time to inspect it more closely, Dean slowly recognized it as part of the coldness that had seeped into him earlier, when he'd been stabbed. The thought was nearly enough to disrupt his calm, but Castiel's support allowed him to maintain it, though it was a close thing. Calling on his determination this time to fuel his efforts rather than his anger, he concentrated on expelling it. The taint resisted, clearly wanting to stay, but he persisted. He had no idea how long it took, but between his husband's strength and Michael's efforts from without, he was finally able to wear away enough of it to create a breach.  
  
That was all that his bond brother needed and Dean could have cried with relief when he finally felt Michael's Grace push through the dissonance and slip inside of him. With the strength and power of an archangel, they were able to quickly banish the rest of the resistance and he fairly melted into Michael's Grace as his friend cocooned his soul. There was almost no pressure this time and he was easily able to remain both awake and aware while Michael fully settled into his meatsuit.  
  
Just as Dean had hoped, being pushed back into a purely soul state and having Michael's Grace all around him blew open his bond with Castiel. Delighted, he sent a surge of emotions along it even as he tugged demandingly on what he could already feel from his husband. There was a moment of shock from his angel's end before everything that he'd hoped and longed for came rushing at him and he all but purred in contentment as he soaked it up,  _finally_  feeling something settle a little within him.  
  
His contentment was so great that it took Dean a few seconds to notice the slight note of discomfort to Castiel's emotions. " _Cas? What's wrong?_ "  
  
" _Nothing, I... It's just-_ " Castiel began.  
  
" _It's me, Little One,_ " Michael stated.  
  
" _Huh?_ " Dean said, confused.  
  
" _This is the first time that we are together since your bonding._ "  
  
" _Oh,_ " Dean replied, suddenly realizing what this might be doing to his husband, to feel him with Michael. " _Shit, Cas, sorry, I didn't think._ "  
  
" _Hush, Beloved,_ " Castiel soothed. " _You needed this and while it is... different, I do not mind. It is just that this has brought Michael and I closer than I have ever been to any of my siblings. While our Graces have touched before, this is deeper, opening them to each other in a way._ "  
  
Dean thought about that for half a second. " _You okay with that?_ "  
  
" _I find I do not mind it even if I wasn't expecting it._ "  
  
The lack of an immediate response from Michael worried Dean but almost as soon as the emotion appeared, he was being soothed by his bond brother.  
  
" _I am not adverse to this, Little One, do not fret,_ " Michael reassured him. " _I have simply not possessed this type of connection with one of my siblings in far longer than you can reasonably comprehend._ "  
  
" _Lucifer,_ " Castiel whispered in realization and Dean felt his bond brother flinch all around him.  
  
" _Yes,_ " Michael confirmed. " _After that I withdrew from my other brothers and sisters, not wanting to be hurt like that again._ "  
  
That was such a human thing to do that Dean couldn't help but sympathize and he tugged his bond brother's Grace closer, wrapping it all around himself. The intent had been to help Michael, but he felt himself calming even further as well. It wasn't until he stopped trembling that he realized he'd still been doing so.  
  
" _Feeling comfortable, Little One?_ " Michael teased.  
  
Dean was experienced enough in the art of changing the subject to recognize the question for what it was even without the tremor in the archangel's voice. " _Mmm, quite._ "  
  
Finally able to let go of some of the tension he'd come back into existence with, Dean snuggled deeper into the Grace of the angel who was as much his as he was Michael's vessel. Once he was content with his position, he tugged at his bond with Castiel once more and preened when he was bathed in love and Grace. The fact that he could feel his husband physically wrapping himself around him and Michael was merely icing on the cake and he let go of everything else, content to just bask in his bonds and the two archangels who'd come to mean more to him than almost anyone else.  
  



	168. Chapter 167

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam comes to some startling revelations about Dean and his brother's angels.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
Although Sam wanted nothing more than to go straight to his brother's room and see how Dean was doing, he forced himself into his own room first. Not only had he always hated having the smell of a salt and burn on him, but he also didn't think that was the best thing for his brother to smell on him just now given all that had happened and who Bobby, Gwen and himself had given a hunter's funeral to.  
  
Sam closed his eyes in pain as he thought again of his grandfather. He couldn't quite figure out how he felt about it all given what Samuel had done today, but he knew that it wasn't his grandfather's fault either. Still, despite that, he couldn't help but feel that it somehow tainted all of his memories of the man. Unlike Dean, he'd never known Samuel prior to this whole mess and now he had to deal with the fact his grandfather hadn't fully been himself the whole time. Instead Simiel's compulsion had been driving the old hunter all the while.  
  
Would they have gotten on better without it? Throughout the year that he'd spent hunting and living with his grandfather, Sam had always felt the spectre of his brother standing between them. He hadn't always been able to acknowledge that, having wanted far too much to believe that he'd finally gotten out from under Dean's shadow to be able to see it for what it was. Now that he knew that Samuel's obsession with his brother hadn't been real, he felt cheated; robbed of the chance to truly bond with his grandfather without the friction his brother's absence had caused between them.  
  
With an effort, Sam forced his thoughts from that track, forcibly reminding himself that none of this was Dean's fault. He was pretty sure that before he'd learned about Lucifer's influence that he'd have tried to place the blame for this on his brother somehow. Now, though, now he knew better and directed his frustration and anger towards Simiel instead. The more he learned about her, the less he was amused. He'd never thought that he'd ever possibly be able to come to dislike and hate anyone as much as Lucifer, but she was coming a close second.  
  
Sam turned on the water of the shower to allow it to warm up and started to undress, dropping his clothes into the laundry basket.  
  
"Sam Winchester."  
  
The unexpected voice right behind him made Sam yelp and jump. He swung around to find Raphael standing there, holding a steaming cup of something that stank to the high heavens.  
  
"Dude," Sam protested, nose wrinkling as he stepped back.  
  
He crossed his arms over his bare chest, acutely aware of the fact that he was wearing nothing but a ratty old pair of boxers. Sam was both relieved and a bit annoyed when Raphael's eyes never so much as even flickered away from his face. He was pretty sure that he could have been buck naked and the archangel still would have shown up and not have copped himself a look. He didn't know just how Dean could stand to be around such asexual beings, not given his brother's propensity for sex and all that it entailed.  
  
Inevitably Sam's mind went back to his brother's earlier revelation and he suddenly knew with absolute certainty that there was at least one angel who wasn't asexual. And ew, he so  _totally didn't_  need that particular image in his head, especially not given the one that immediately followed on its heels. Thinking of Castiel naked and having sex was bad enough, but the image of the angel doing it  _with his brother_  was just scarring for life and he totally needed to find a can of brain bleach. Light right the hell now.  
  
"What?" Raphael asked, frowning.  
  
Sam blinked and had to backtrack slightly to remember what the archangel was talking about. "This is a bathroom," he replied, gesturing around with his arms. "You don't bother people in the bathroom."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because they could be naked or on the toilet or things like that."  
  
"Nudity does not bother me. I also did not have time to wait for you to be done."  
  
"What? Why not?"  
  
"Because we are already almost too late," Raphael stated, stepping forwards and holding out the cup. "Drink this."  
  
The order made Sam frown and he'd already opened his mouth to protest when he suddenly recalled that Dean had said that he needed to drink a second potion today to complete last night's portion of the ritual. His brother had also said something about there only being a two-hour window in which he could do so.  
  
"Thanks," Sam said, taking the cup.  
  
Since the smell had already been turning his stomach, Sam pinched his nose shut and knocked it back in one go. He swallowed as quickly as possible, trying not to taste it but he still ended up gagging despite all that. What the hell was in this anyway? No, on second thought he  _really_  didn't want to know, not given the things that had already been in some of the potions he'd ingested over the course of the past few years. Magic and rituals of every sort tended to require the nastiest of ingredients for some reason.  
  
It wasn't until that moment that Sam suddenly realized that he hadn't even hesitated. Not once had it crossed his mind to wonder if Raphael was being truthful or honest with him. Instead he'd treated the archangel as one of the group and trusted Raphael to give him the right potion without a second thought. It bothered him but he also knew why he'd done it. Not only did Dean obviously trust Raphael implicitly, but the archangel had quite clearly been upset when his brother had died and had done everything that he could in order to help Death and his two brothers save Dean.  
  
"We have come too far to have to recommence the ritual now," Raphael stated before abruptly vanishing.  
  
Sam blinked in bemusement, looking around to check that the archangel was really gone before stepping up to the sink so he could wash out the cup. Hopefully that would get rid of the odious stench and he rinsed his mouth to do the same with the taste. Then he pushed down his boxers and stepped into the shower.  
  


* * *

  
  
Dressed in clean clothes and with his hair carefully dried, Sam felt far better as he stepped out into the hall. It wasn't until he was standing before the door to his brother's room that he suddenly realized that he didn't even know if Dean and Castiel were in there. He'd just assumed that his friend had taken his brother here to rest, but he suddenly remembered that the two of them had an apartment somewhere and it was entirely possible that Castiel had taken Dean there instead. His brother might find it more relaxing and feel safer there after all.  
  
Not wanting to dwell on it as he didn't even have the first clue as to where this apartment was, Sam knocked and pushed open the door. The sight that greeted him froze him in his tracks even before he'd stepped into the room. His big brother and friend were on the bed together along with Raphael, but nothing about the scene was either indecent nor sexual, rather there was an  _intimacy_  to it all that suddenly made him feel like an intruder. Much as Dean would strangle him if his brother ever discovered that he'd thought it, the first descriptive word that came to mind to characterize what he was seeing was  _cuddling_.  
  
Dean was lying diagonally across the large bed with both Castiel and Raphael curled around him. Sam's mind was still struggling to reboot from that shock as he watched his friend stroke his fingers through Dean's hair while Raphael... did something odd but strangely familiar, fingers flying through empty air. Though a part of him felt like he should close the door and leave them alone, he found that he couldn't. The memory of just what had happened rose to the top of his mind and he had to choke back a sob.  
  
Either Sam wasn't as successful at keeping it quiet as he'd thought or his friend had just sensed his presence. Regardless of the reason, Castiel raised his head to look at him and he stepped into the room.  
  
"Cas," Sam said softly, not quite able to tell if Dean was asleep or not.  
  
His next words died in his throat as a form seen out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and Sam's every muscle froze once more as he turned to look at it. There, laying carelessly sprawled in the padded armchair at the other end of the room, was Michael. Only it wasn't the archangel as there was absolutely no tension in the muscles and his aunt's eyes stared ahead sightlessly. Although he realized instantly that he was looking at an empty vessel, the full implications of that knowledge took a few moments to sink in. When they did, though, he whirled around to look at his brother once more. Dean still lay on the bed where he had before, only now his brother's eyes were open and Sam instantly knew that he'd been correct and both anger and horror coiled in his gut.  
  
"Michael," Sam bit out.  
  
"Sam," Michael replied simply.  
  
Even if he hadn't already realized the truth, Sam would have known it then. Though it was still his brother's voice, Michael didn't sound anything like Dean. That made sense, though as Jimmy hadn't sounded anything like Castiel either. Or rather it turned out that Castiel didn't sound anything like Jimmy did.  
  
His anger made it difficult for Sam to speak, but he forced the words out anyway. "How could you? Hasn't he been through enough already? Did you really have to foist this on top of everything else today of all days?"  
  
"Dean asked for me to take him as my vessel," Michael responded calmly.  
  
Sam snorted. "Like hell he did."  
  
There was a flicker of annoyance on the archangel's face, but overall it was far too expressionless for Sam. His brother was normally so lively and full of energy, often finding it difficult or impossible to sit still, irritating the hell out of anyone attempting to concentrate in the vicinity. In fact the only times that he'd ever really seen his brother being still were when his big brother was either deathly ill or already dead. Not even when he was sleeping did Dean do so motionlessly. The reminder of those horrible situations where his brother had been still made him shudder and he tried to force them from his mind.  
  
"Sam," Castiel's voice was sharp and harsh with rebuke. "Michael is telling the truth, Dead did ask for this."  
  
"But... why?"  
  
Sam hated the tone of his own voice just then as he could clearly hear how weak and whiney it was. The thing was, though, that he honestly didn't know. Oh sure, his brother had said before that he didn't mind being Michael's vessel, but surely there was a long way between that and actively  _wanting_  the archangel in him, especially now of all times when Dean had already been traumatized.  
  
"His bond with Castiel is strongest when he is with me," Michael explained. "My Grace enhances their connection. Like this I am also able to wrap him in my Grace in order to comfort and soothe him while he is able to simply be a soul and come to terms with what has happened. It helps everyone."  
  
It was as Sam struggled to understand those words and all that they meant that he was once again struck by the sheer intimacy of the scene before him. Even the knowledge that it was Michael in control of his brother's meatsuit now and not Dean didn't really help. His brother had said that he was constantly awake and aware when with the archangel, which meant that his brother knew what was going on around him now and not giving Michael a hard time about it given how at ease the archangel currently was. He knew from personal experience just how annoying and frustrating Dean could be when forced to do endure against his will and there was absolutely no way even an archangel could be this calm while being on the receiving end of that. He could also only assume that his brother would be worse if it were forced upon him like this.  
  
The question of exactly why Dean allowed it lead Sam to another startling realization and this one took his breath away. Yeah, he'd known from earlier that his brother and Castiel were now essentially married, but it wasn't until this very moment that everything which that truly meant came together for him along with all that he'd heard and witnessed over the course of the past week.  
  
 _They were a family._  
  
Shock and disbelief froze Sam yet again but he knew he was right as it all made far too much sense for it not to be the truth. This, the archangels and his brother, they were a family, one that he wasn't really a part of. It explained everything: the way he'd caught Michael and Dean interacting that one morning after the first part of the ritual, the implicit way in which his brother trusted all three of the angels, the easy way they interacted and touched each other and a whole bunch of other things that he'd noticed but never really thought of or simply hadn't understood. Somehow, despite everything, his brother had been able to find everything that Dean had been looking for, for so very long.  
  
Though he was happy for his brother, Sam couldn't help but feel jealous and left out at the same time.  _He'd_  always been the center of Dean's world- the one his brother would drop everything for- and he didn't quite know what to feel now that this was no longer the case. Had he truly lost Dean in some essential way?  
  
"I-" Sam began, not quite sure what to say.  
  
"Come here," Michael said, indicating the bed beside him.  
  
"Uh, no, that's okay, I'm just fine right here, thank you very much."  
  
Michael frowned and Sam was worried that he'd offended the archangel when Michael tilted Dean's head just like Castiel used to do with Jimmy's, and it was the weirdest sense of deja vu that he'd ever experienced. Before the feeling had passed, the archangel was already getting a confused look on his face and he couldn't help but wonder why it was that he could now figure out so many of Michael's expressions. Was it due to how well he knew Dean's face that he was able to notice all of the minor movements?  
  
"Why is Dean calling you a female dog?" Michael asked.  
  
A female dog? Oh. "That's 'cause he's a jerk," Sam replied with a pang of loss and pain, knowing somehow that the old days of just him and Dean were well and truly gone.  
  
The archangel looked at him for a moment before turning to his brothers. "Humans are strange."  
  
"Mm, yes," Castiel agreed easily. "But endlessly fascinating nonetheless."  
  
"What?" Michael responded seemingly out of nowhere. "It's true."  
  
There was a pause and Sam wondered of the archangel was talking to his brother.  
  
Michael snorted. "If you think that's bad, then you should have heard what Raphael said the othe- ouch!"  
  
"Oops, sorry, Brother, my mistake," Raphael stated, his voice not quite managing to attain the innocent quality that Sam was sure the archangel was aiming for. "I didn't see that misaligned feather there."  
  
Castiel huffed a laugh as Michael scowled at Raphael and it took Sam a moment to realize that the way Raphael had been moving his fingers earlier was exactly the same way that Dean had done when grooming Castiel's wings while they watched "Inception". That was why it had seemed so familiar! The next thing that he knew, Michael had shifted slightly and Raphael yelped before toppling sideways off the bed. The archangel never hit the floor, but the action itself made all of the longing that he'd felt before upon realizing that his brother could see and touch Castiel's wings return.  _He'd_  wanted to be able to do that. Why was it that Dean now could and he still couldn't? Was it because of the bonding? It almost had to be as there was really no other explanation for it given that his brother hadn't been able to do so before.  
  
"Come here," Michael repeated, holding out a hand towards him.  
  
"I-" Sam began.  
  
"Dean wants you to."  
  
Those words crumbled Sam's remaining resistance and he gave into the desire to move closer to his brother, even if Dean wasn't the one currently in control of his own meatsuit. His big brother's horrific and completely unexpected death earlier in the day and the sudden sense of loss that he now felt, feeling like he'd never again have Dean like he used to, coalesced and he'd covered the space between himself and the bed before he'd even fully realized it. From there it was easy as Michael took his hand and pulled him down beside the archangel and he wasn't sure if he'd have been able to resist even if he wanted to.  
  
Raphael and Castiel had shifted enough so that Sam could fit and he grabbed hold of his brother, hands fisting in Dean's clothing even as he pushed his face into his brother chest just like he'd used to as a little child. The response was different from before, Michael tensing up for a moment, but then his brother's arms came around him and he couldn't hold back the tears that had wanted to spill forth every time he thought of what had happened.


	169. Chapter 168

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel helps his bond mate recover from what happened.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
Frustration and a sense of helplessness welled up within Castiel as he watched Dean sleep and he hated it. It had been several days since Samuel's death and the... incident.  
  
It was at times like this, when Castiel could hardly even think about what had happened, that he understood fully why his bond mate was having such a hard time dealing with it all. That knowledge didn't make it an easier to witness his hunter's distress, though, or make the frustration and helplessness any easier to bear. Indeed, if anything, that understanding only made them worse. He wanted to be able to do something- anything!- to help Dean come to terms with all that had happened to his precious human, to help his bond mate get better, but nothing he had thought of seemed to make a difference.  
  
All Castiel had to do was look at Dean's sleeping face to see that. He frowned as he traced the dark circles under his bond mate's eyes and the tense lines marring his beautiful face. He knew precisely why his hunter could find little relaxation even in sleep. Just like after Hell, Dean was constantly plagued by nightmares now and while he could easily keep them at bay with a little of his Grace, he worried about making his beloved over-dependent on him. His bond mate really needed to be able to sleep peacefully when he wasn't around.  
  
Whenever Castiel tried easing away, though, the nightmares would rush back in and he had no idea what he could do to correct that. He'd tried speaking with Bobby about the issue, but all his friend had been able to tell him was that the nightmares would be there as long as it took for Dean to find some way of handling the memories of what had happened to him. Though the words had seemed cold, he'd been able to read his own anguish and helplessness in Bobby's eyes and knew the hunter wanted there to be some simple solution they could get or do for Dean.  
  
Against his every instinct, Castiel slowly pulled his Grace back, away from where he'd been using it to calm his bond mate's dreams. Instead he quietly began to speak, muttering soothing words and hoping that his voice would be enough to keep Dean grounded and let his human's sleeping mind know that he was safe. It wasn't a long-term solution as it also relied on his presence, but he saw it as a first step, which Bobby had said was important. Apparently humans rarely just 'got over' traumatic events quickly and instead did so slowly, one step at a time. It was frustrating, but if that was the only way to help his hunter, then that was what he'd do. One slow step at a time.  
  
Part of why Castiel was so worried was that Dean had yet to show any interest in sex or the physical side of their relationship since the incident. While he'd always miss being that close to and intertwined with his bond mate's body, he'd gladly give it all up if that was what his hunter needed. The thing, though, was that he knew that it wasn't. He'd become far too well acquainted with the human concept of 'life-affirming' sex to not know just how and why it was engaged in by so many, besides he knew  _Dean_  far too well to know that his human could ever be completely fine and healthy without it. His bond mate was simply far too tactile for that not to mention that sex had long since become crucial to the way Dean saw himself for his hunter to be able to do without it.  
  
If it had simply been a matter of his bond mate refusing to give in to his need to touch others, then Castiel would know what to do, but it wasn't. Dean hadn't stopped touching people, rather the opposite in fact when it came to himself and Michael in particular. With them his hunter had become extremely 'clingy' as Gwen had taken to calling it, almost refusing to let them go when in the same room as him. While he had no problem remaining within touching distance of his bond mate and indeed, being extremely pleased with the fact that Dean could now admit to those types of feelings and needs, let alone to give into them, he hated what they signalled. This was not his hunter.  
  
The problem was that Castiel was at a loss as to what to do. The fact that Dean was showing progress in some areas even as he was clearly so unwell was an irony not lost on him, but he infinitely preferred this to his human not having anything to hang on to. It had not escaped his attention that both Bobby and Sam had noticed that particular change in Dean and been shocked by it. He'd been a little afraid that one of them would comment on it and make his hunter self-conscious about his newfound ability to reach out to others for physical comfort, but thankfully neither of them had, even if he'd noticed them sneaking disbelieving looks whenever they thought that Dean wasn't looking. It was another indicator of how poorly his beloved was that his bond mate  _hadn't_  noticed.  
  
A sudden frisson of pure terror followed by a moan alerted Castiel to the fact that he'd stopped his soothing whispering and dismay shot through him. He used his Grace to wake his bond mate faster and then pulled Dean close to him.   
  
"Cas?" his hunter inquired.  
  
"I'm here, Beloved, sorry about that," Castiel replied.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"I stopped speaking."  
  
"Cas," Dean said, turning to straddle him. "I know you can just dampen the nightmares out entirely but I also know why you're not. I get it, I really do and thanks for that."  
  
"I dislike feeling you distressed like that."  
  
"You and me both."  
  
It wasn't until his bond mate's eyes dropped down to his lips after a moment of silence that Castiel realized how close they'd gotten. These days it felt so natural to be this close to Dean that it no longer seemed strange so it wasn't until now when it felt on the verge of becoming sexual that he realized that was where things were headed. He felt a rush of arousal and desire but he tempered it, determined to let his human decide whether or not Dean felt ready for this.  
  
Castiel's uncertainty was erased a moment later when his bond mate closed the gap between them and kissed him. He responded instantly, savoring the taste of his hunter. Despite the urgency pouring from Dean now, there was still a lot of tenderness and vulnerability there and he used that as his guide when he swept his bond mate up and turned to lower Dean back onto the bed, though he brought his wings up through the mattress to cradle his hunter's body in their protective embrace.  
  
"Cas," Dean moaned, pulling him close.  
  
The shift in position allowed his bond mate access to the base of his wings and Castiel moaned in approval, rolling his hips. The friction felt wonderful and they both groaned with Dean throwing his head back and he took advantage of it to lick and nip his way down his bond mate's throat. He reached back and milked his own oil glands so he could start preparing his human for him.  
  
Despite the last few days with no sexual encounters, Castiel felt like there had been no pause. They moved together flawlessly, slowly rising higher and higher. By the time he finally pushed into his bond mate, Dean was a helpless, quivering mess, unable to utter more than nonsensical encouragements. Any terror or thoughts of what had transpired were long gone and he congratulated himself on that as he held his hunter's gaze.  
  
It was as Castiel was thinking of how far Dean had come to even  _want_  such tender intimacy and to be treated so gently that a new thought occurred to him. Was treating his bond mate so frailly just now actually a good idea? Or was now the time to show his hunter just how strong his beloved really was? To prove that no matter how fragile Dean might feel right now, his bond mate was anything but?  
  
The moment he thought about it some more, Castiel suddenly knew without a doubt that he was right. Though he was pleased that his human felt comfortable enough to show his vulnerability to him and saw no need to hide it, he feared it might be a sign of more than just a passing trauma for Dean. His hunter had never been particularly good at seeing his own strength and now was probably no different.  
  
With no warning, Castiel thrust harder, eliciting a startled gasp from Dean who was now looking at him with wide eyes at the sudden, unexpected change of pace.  
  
"What?" Castiel asked, biting at the base of his bond mate's neck, hard enough to bruise. "It's not like you'll break."  
  
When he pulled back, Castiel found Dean's eyes even wider than before and for a brief moment he was afraid that he'd gotten it wrong before his bond mate suddenly came alive beneath him. Dean grasped the back of his neck and pulled him down into a fierce kiss, tongue battling for dominance even as his hunter bucked beneath him. He responded with a mock growl and put up just enough resistance to make his bond mate have to really work for it before he allowed himself to be rolled so that he was the one laying on his back. The shift had caused him to slip from Dean, but that was okay for all of the emotions that were suddenly flooding out over their bond.  
  
There was too much of it, all coming far too hard and fast, for Castiel to even hope to sort through it all, but that was okay as it was all so strong and vibrant and  _alive_. It was all so  _Dean_  that he didn't mind in the slightest that things had changed and he moaned eagerly when his bond mate's fingers found his oil glands and Dean slicked his fingers in order to prep him. Given what they'd already done, neither of them was going to last much longer but he didn't mind that the prep was quick and dirty. His precious human couldn't hurt him and he cherished the very real  _feel_  of Dean moving within him, forcing his vessel to give way. Much as he'd been focused as his bond mate up until now he found that he needed this as well just now. Needed to feel Dean and how gloriously alive his hunter was and this accomplished that.  
  
Their lovemaking had gone from sweet and tender to hot, hard and rough in no time but Castiel didn't need the physical affection to know how true it was as he could feel it from his bond mate all the time. It was an accepted fact between them now, the bond sharing it as easily as Dean breathed and neither of them had been aware of precisely how much they'd come to cherish and rely on it until it had been so brutally torn from them. Which was exactly why they needed this life-affirming sex now, so they could both  _feel_  it and each other and how despite what had happened that they'd both weathered it and survived, as had their bond.  
  
The time Castiel had taken to prep his bond mate earlier wasn't lost as it meant that he could use his Grace to  _take_  Dean even as his hunter took him, thrusting hard and fast within him. His bond mate cried out, back arching and when their eyes locked, the cycle was complete and they were fully in tune with each other once more. Everything that they felt and couldn't always say sang between them over their bond even as they spiralled ever higher on the physical pleasure as they joined their bodies like their Grace and soul until they finally came together.  
  


* * *

  
When Castiel came back from a brief visit to Heaven the next day he was pleased to find Dean outside without either Michael or Raphael in sight. Instead his bond mate was in the middle of the backyard with his cousin, sparring. The sight warmed him and he didn't announce his presence, instead he moved into the shadows of the back porch so that he could observe the session without distracting either his human or Gwen. Although he'd taken the time to fight with Dean- as had Michael and Raphael- he knew that it was vastly different from his hunter fighting with other humans. Not only did Dean not have to worry about injuring them while sparring with him and his brothers, but his bond mate also knew that he'd always be the weakest in those matches, even if they attempted to match their strength to human levels it was difficult and they would often accidentally use too much strength.  
  
So it was good for Dean to be able to train against other humans. Castiel couldn't help but feel proud, though, as he saw how swiftly and easily his bond mate was able to handle anything that Gwen threw at him. His hunter had always been an excellent fighter which was the result of being a natural from a long line of hunters and John Winchester's intensive training program, but his brothers and himself had knowledge and experience of fighting styles and techniques which had long since been forgotten by humans. The energetic way his human was still moving proved that it had worked, especially when he took in the panting and sweat-stained form of Sam laying sprawled on the ground nearby.  
  
On some level Castiel thought that fighting against Gwen at this point might actually be more challenging for Dean than fighting against Sam would be. Unlike his brother, Dean's cousin would be used to fighting against opponents who had such a physical advantage over her because while Sam would have been used to his brother being bulkier than him, that was probably one of the few times the younger Winchester faced off against a human opponent who had such a distinct advantage over him. As a result, Sam would not be used to needing to find defensive moves that didn't rely on having a distinct strength advantage over his opponent. Gwen, on the other hand, would be far more used to that as most of the hunters that he'd seen were male so for her it would be a matter of habit to use techniques that were designed to overcome a foe's superior strength.  
  
Castiel could observe that now as he watched her technique against Dean and his head tilted to one side at a particular move that she pulled. It was not a standard counter to the manoeuvre his bond mate had used but it was quite effective nonetheless. Apparently his hunter wasn't the only intuitive one in the family when it came to hand-to-hand, nor was Dean the only one completely unafraid of throwing the rule book out of the window and going with whatever came to mind and might work.  
  
The more that he learned about Gwen the more that Castiel liked her and he was sure that they could become very good friends if given the chance. Or at least he thought so, he wasn't entirely sure what she thought of him and he didn't know how to go about discovering that. It was something he would have to ask his bond mate later as he would like to have another friend. Especially one who seemed to like and respect Dean as much as Gwen did.  
  
"Castiel."  
  
He had been concentrating so much on watching Dean and Gwen that Castiel had not noticed Bobby's approach until the hunter had spoken. He turned slightly to look at him and gave a small nod of acknowledgement. "Bobby."  
  
"I suppose you're the reason for Dean's change in fighting style?" Bobby inquired, gesturing to the ongoing match.  
  
"Myself and my brothers, yes. Michael was quite keen to teach Dean some of the older styles which have since been lost or forgotten by humans."  
  
"They seem to work quite well. I've not seen Sam receive such a trashing at the hands of a human for more years that I care to remember just now."  
  
The words caught Castiel by surprise and he looked back at his bond mate, wondering if Dean still had some anger towards his brother that needed dealing with despite their apparent reconciliation. It wasn't that he thought that Sam didn't deserve it, but rather that he hadn't expected his human to be able to hold on to his righteous anger now that his little brother was repentant and, for now at least, attempting to improve himself. He was happy that his hunter was succeeding in doing so as it meant that Dean had been able to heal more and come to more fully understand his own worth than he'd dared hope.  
  
"Dean was quite enthusiastic about learning them," Castiel replied simply.  
  
Bobby laughed. "I bet he was. The idjit always loved learning when it came to things like that. Show him anything physical or mechanical and he'd pick it up like it was nothing."  
  
"He is not dumb, he can learn the theoretical too."  
  
"Whoa, I didn't say that he was," Bobby replied hastily. "Dean has just never picked it up as easily, though I always suspected that had more to do with a lack of interest and sense of self-worth than anything else. That boy is far smarter than he gives himself credit for and I don't even pretend to know what he could accomplish if he were really to put his mind to it. The fact that he made an EMF reader from scratch proves that."  
  
The sheer sincerity of Bobby's words made Castiel feel a little bad about how sharp his own had been but he'd heard far too much negative said about his bond mate lately to be anything but defensive. Besides, he knew enough about human psychology now to know that Dean's old lack of self-worth and self-esteem had to have come from somewhere and the most likely source of that was his human's family and close friends. Not that they were the only reason for it, but they would have definitely played a major part in it. And given Sam's penchant for walking out on his brother so easily and frequently combined with all that his friend had said while accepting Lucifer's influence, he knew that he was right.  
  
Beside him Bobby snorted and Castiel turned back to look inquiringly at the hunter, not sure what he had done to elicit that particular response.  
  
"You really are head over heels, aren't ya?"  
  
Castiel frowned. "I do not understand that reference."


	170. Chapter 169

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean, Castiel and the others meet with Crowley to learn what he has discovered.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
"Explain to me again how on Earth you thought it was a good idea to trust Crowley of all people?" Sam demanded as soon as the waitress left after having served them the large shared platter that they'd ordered.  
  
Dean rolled his eyes as he reached for a deep fried mozzarella stick and dunked it into the marinara sauce. "For the last time, Sam, we're not trusting him, just working with him."  
  
"And the difference is what exactly?"  
  
"The difference is treating Crowley as we did before versus how you treated Ruby."  
  
"Look, I hate to get in the middle of this particular argument, I really do," Gwen stated, cutting off any reply that Sam might have made. "But can I ask what that means exactly?"  
  
"It means that we use him but give him as little information in return as possible," Castiel explained. "Crowley does not yet know that Michael and Raphael are on our side or about our alliance with the Vatican or any other details like that."  
  
"Yeah, he wouldn't know about Cas' promotion to archangel from us either if he hadn't been able to see it for himself," Dean added.  
  
"Speaking of which, congratulations Cas," Sam said, clapping the angel on the back. "What's it like to be an archangel?"  
  
"It was strange at first, but I have grown accustomed to it," Castiel replied.  
  
"Wait, you didn't know?" Dean inquired with a frown.  
  
"No, we only learned of it when Samuel got the first of the  _Supernatural_  books that he'd been missing," Gwen explained.  
  
Dean's let his head thunk onto the table top at that. "He got more of the books?" he demanded, smiling despite himself when he felt his husband's fingers coming up to massage the back of his neck, accompanied by a slight Grace probe to check whether he'd injured himself pulling his latest stunt.  
  
Man but he loved the silly, sappy angel.  
  
"Obsessed really is a good way of describing Samuel's behavior now that I think about it rationally," Bobby stated. "But, yes, he got three more of the books. Sam and I, though, had already heard of Castiel's promotion from Becky before that."  
  
The mere thought of what those books might contain made Dean groan and want to sink into the floor in embarrassment. He was in no way proud of his behavior back then and kinda wished that he could take it all back now. If he'd known then that it would all be written down for posterity and available for anyone to read who was stupid enough to fork over the necessary cash to buy one of Chuck's monstrosities, he'd have never allowed himself to become so pathetic.  
  
The fingers on the back of his neck tightened well beyond the usual massage strength and Dean winced slightly, knowing what was coming as his husband leaned over to hiss into his ear.  
  
"You were not, nor have you ever been pathetic, Dean Winchester," Castiel declared fiercely, though low enough that the others wouldn't be able to overhear it. "You were dealing with something no human should have to deal with and then, on top of all the pain and suffering that you had already experienced, you discovered that you'd been betrayed by the one person who you trusted and loved above all others. If that doesn't give you the right to be miserable then nothing does."  
  
Dean huffed. "And here I thought that you were upset with me for acting the way that I did."  
  
"I admit that you didn't handle those emotions in the way that I would have liked you to, but I don't think that you were in a position at the time to do so in any other way."  
  
"And you think I am now?"  
  
"No, I  _know_  you are now."  
  
"Yeah, I guess I am," Dean admitted after a moment's pause. "Thanks to you."  
  
"I merely gave you the help that you needed to be able to achieve that yourself."  
  
"You know, you're gonna have to learn that sometimes you just need to take that kind of compliment and say thank you."  
  
"You first."  
  
Dean snorted and then laughed. He and Castiel really were a matched set, but he was more than okay with that. Really. "Have a mozzarella stick," he said in lieu of anything else, nudging the large platter a little closer to his husband.  
  
"Aw, now isn't this just too precious for words?"  
  
The instant the voice registered, Dean jerked his head back from where he and Castiel had been speaking. Apparently they'd slowly drifted closer to each other as they were talking until their foreheads were all but touching. A quick glance at the others proved that they'd noticed as well and the slight discomfort on Sam and Bobby's faces made him want to smirk but he forced it from his face as he turned to look at the newest arrival.  
  
"Crowley," Dean acknowledged coldly.  
  
"Now, now, cupcake, there's no need to be rude," Crowley replied, sneering down at the boot as if checking it for dirt before reluctantly seating himself beside Gwen. "You're the one who told me to meet you here, not the other way around."  
  
"Yeah, yeah, now what did you want to talk about?"  
  
"You really have no idea how to woo a connection diplomatically now do you, cupcake?"  
  
Dean growled, baring his teeth at Crowley, but he reluctantly calmed when Castiel placed a hand on his arm.  
  
"You do have something to tell us, don't you, Crowley?" Castiel asked, voice quiet but firm.  
  
"Of course I do. Like I'd risk a meeting you two if I didn't," Crowley responded, glancing about. "Did it have to be somewhere so public?"  
  
"Well we could have invited you to where we were staying but you wouldn't have liked that very much," Sam sneered. "Not that I'd have minded but I got overruled."  
  
"Ah yes, you went back to the pit bull, cupcake, how lovely," Crowley sneered. "Are you sure he's safe? From what I heard, once an angelic vessel, always an angelic vessel."  
  
"How about you let us worry about that, Crowley?" Dean retorted, though he couldn't help but be slightly amused that  _Sam_  was currently the one being compared to an unthinking guard dog.  
  
That had always been him in the past and Dean couldn't help but like and feel proud of the one-eighty in that regard. It was something of a first for him, to think of his reasoning abilities and strategic skills with pride. The hand that came to rest on the small of his back showed that some of his thoughts and feelings had spilled out over the bond to his husband and sent the equivalent of a smile at Castiel in return in place of an actual one given their present company. His bond mate's gesture wasn't lost on Crowley though as he caught how the demon's eyes tracked the movement from across the table. Though it annoyed him a little, it also brought to his attention the way Crowley hadn't even considered scooting in next to him and that made him smile. Whether it was because the demon didn't want to get that close to him or Castiel he didn't particularly care, just the fact that Crowley felt the need to distance himself as much as possible from either of them was more than enough for him.  
  
"It's my neck on the line here too, princess," Crowley replied, smirking as he met Dean's eyes. "I see you're still managing to hold onto twinkle toe's attentions. Makes a demon wonder exactly how you do it, or just how good a lay you really are."  
  
"Crowley!" Castiel snarled warningly.  
  
" _Whoa, Cas, don't!_ " Dean sent silently over their bond. " _He's doing it on purpose to try and anger you, probably to make you spill the beans on something he wants to know. Don't let him play you._ "  
  
"Easy, easy now, Castiel," Crowley soothed condescendingly before pulling out his flask and taking a sip. "Like I said before, I'm not trying to poach your pet, just wondering what it is about him that can keep your attention for so long. There's got to be something."  
  
"Nothing you would understand."  
  
Crowley laughed at that and Dean couldn't help but recall what it was that the demon had said the last time. About how with something as powerful as his husband, he couldn't be anything other than a pet or temporary plaything. Apparently even being a pet had some kind of time limit on it and he shuddered to think of what that meant in Hell. Even there he'd heard the odd comment about how long he'd captured and held Alastair's attention, which made him wonder what it was about him that had snared his old master's interest. The reason for the first thirty years was more than obvious now, but those last ten not so much. At least some of it would have been triumph and the feeling of victory that Alastair would have experienced every time the demon watched him carve up another soul or do whatever his master had demanded. But after that? What had it been then?  
  
Before Dean would have written it off as something stupid or not even have considered it worth his attention and efforts at uncovering the true meaning. Now, however, he couldn't help but wonder at it all. Did it have anything to do with his soul and how different and unique everyone seemed to say that it was? That particular thought was a lot more difficult for him to acknowledge but he'd had enough experience while with Michael now to know what the average soul looked like while in a human meatsuit and compared to what Michael saw when looking at him even he couldn't deny that there was a clear and marked difference.  
  
The question was what did that mean?  
  
The easiest solution that Dean could come up with was that he'd had the misfortune (or fortune as he'd seen what happened to souls that got passed around in the Pitt) of maintaining Alastair's personal interest because he was so different from everyone else. If there was one thing his old master had loved it was to be seen as different from all of the others, the common, pathetic and unimaginative amateurs as Alastair had often called them sneeringly. So to have a soul as unique as his own as a pet must have given the demon a kick whenever Alastair had looked upon him. It made him wonder if his old master would have grown tired of him once he'd fully demonized or if he'd still have been unique enough to maintain Alastair's interest even then.  
  
It wasn't something Dean was particularly interested in thinking much about. But either way, if Crowley looked at things even remotely in the same way as Alastair had, then he could more than understand why the demon just didn't get Castiel's interest in him given how long they'd already been together. Love was an almost totally alien concept to those in Hell other than that it made a great way to torture newly arrived souls. Besides, he didn't particularly care for Crowley thinking too closely on his relationship with his husband. Reluctant ally or not, the guy was still a demon and one who'd turn against them just as soon as Lucifer was out of the picture.  
  
"As if you didn't check him out yourself," Gwen snorted.  
  
"What?" Dean squawked.  
  
"He totally checked you out before stepping up to the table."  
  
Absently Dean felt Castiel stiffen beside him even as his husband's hand on his back shifted across so that his bond mate could grasp his hip. Most of his attention, though, was focused on the demon sitting across from him who sipped his drink calmly.  
  
"What can I say, I'm not blind, cupcake," Crowley shrugged minutely. "Besides, all crossroads demons learn to appreciate human beauty. Deals are much easier to make when wearing a handsome or gorgeous body."  
  
Now that he thought about it, Dean had to agree that he'd never seen an unattractive crossroads demon. All of the ones that he'd dealt with had been quite beautiful actually. Well, except for Crowley, but then as the head of the crossroads demons he probably wouldn't have to worry about that too much. Though it could also be that Crowley just wasn't his type as it wasn't that the demon was unattractive either. Or it might just be that he saw it that way because he knew Crowley, which pretty much spoiled any appreciation he might ever have had for the meatsuit the demon was wearing.  
  
"Are you actually gonna get to this information you claim to have for us or are you just going to keep drooling over my brother?" Sam demanded.  
  
"Hey!" Dean protested. "There is no drooling, Dude. That's just gross."  
  
"He checked you out and calls you  _cupcake_."  
  
Unable to come up with a good defense against that, Dean scowled and turned back to face Crowley, desperately trying to ignore the look that had graced Bobby's face at his brother's words. Even he didn't want to think about that too closely and from the way Castiel's emotions were going, he knew he had to steer the conversation away from this particular topic or they might be short a demonic ally, not that he wouldn't love to watch his husband smite Crowley, but they did actually need the demon right now. Much as it pained him to admit it.  
  
"Toying with an archangel is not a particularly smart thing for a demon to do, Crowley," Dean reminded. "Castiel might just decide to do more than pin you to a wall this time."  
  
"Now that I would have liked to see," Bobby stated.  
  
"Did you have to bring the goon squad?" Crowley asked, looking only at Dean.  
  
"Yes. Remember it's my way or the highway, mate," Dean replied evenly, though he couldn't help but mimic Crowley's accent for the last word.  
  
"You do know how to drive a hard bargain, cupcake. I like that about you."  
  
Oh great, since when had he started attracting demonic attention of this kind as well? Dean liked it much better when it had been just Sam who did that.  
  
"I don't think that he has anything for us," Gwen stated.  
  
"I concur," Castiel said.  
  
"Lucifer has found the farmer he was looking for," Crowley stated.  
  
"What?" Dean demanded, all other thoughts vanishing. "When? Where?"  
  
"Somewhere in rural Mississippi. I'm surprised that you haven't heard of it yet given what his henchmen did to the family and the place."  
  
"What farmer?" Bobby questioned.  
  
"One Lucy was looking for," Dean explained. "Did you find out why he wanted the guy in the first place?"  
  
"Rumor has it that the guy's blood was special," Crowley replied. "It would explain why they drained just about every last drop from the whole family but for his wife."  
  
"Fuck," Sam uttered, speaking for all of them.  
  
"Don't suppose you happen to know how it might have been special?" Bobby asked.  
  
"There are a few different theories being bandied about, but the one I like best personally is that he is a descendant of an antichrist."  
  
"That would make his blood extremely potent even if there have been a few generations in between," Castiel commented.  
  
"Potent how?" Dean inquired. "Like as an ingredient for a potion or ritual?"  
  
"Yes, precisely."  
  
"Shit."  
  
"That would fit with what else I've heard," Crowley said. "Apparently Lucifer has demons out searching for various other items all across the globe." With that the demon slid a piece of paper across the table. "These are the ones that I've heard about so far, but there are others."  
  
"Think you can discover what they are?" Dean asked, looking over at the list when his husband picked it up and pulling a face at some of them.  
  
"I will try, but dear old Dad is playing this close to the chest and hasn't told many about them."  
  
"He has learned from his previous arrogance," Castiel stated with a frown.  
  
"That figures," Gwen muttered.  
  
"Whoa, where do you think you're going?" Dean demanded as Crowley got to his feet.  
  
"Away from here. I've been around you long enough as it is, cupcake," Crowley responded. "You want to know anything else, you text me."  
  
With those words Crowley vanished and Dean scowled. Of course the demon would go before he had a chance to ask him how his little rebellion was going. It made him wonder if Crowley was even really attempting to sow discord amongst the other demons or if he was just keeping his head down and letting them do all of the real dirty work. He wouldn't put it past the demon and the only reason he didn't just assume that was the case now was because Crowley was already on Lucifer's hit list and stood to lose a hell of a lot if they lost and Lucifer won.  
  
"Does that list of ingredients mean anything to you, Castiel?" Bobby asked.  
  
"No," Castiel replied, handing it over to the hunter. "But I shall have Belliel crosscheck it against the records of potions, spells and rituals we have in Heaven's library."  
  
"Why do I get the feeling that he won't find anything?" Dean muttered under his breath.  
  
"It is worth checking nonetheless."  
  
"I know, Cas, it's just- and I hate to say it- that it seems like your library was wiped clean of any and all records that might actually help us with this Apocalypse."  
  
"Well at the very least we now know that Lucifer has something concrete planned," Gwen pointed out.  
  
"Yeah, there is that," Dean admitted, snagging an onion ring from the platter. "Anyone want something else to drink?"  
  
"I'll have another," Bobby replied, tapping his bottle.  
  
"Me too," Gwen said.  
  
"I'll come with you," Sam replied. "If Gwen will let me out that is."  
  
"Sure."  
  
"Any ideas what Lucifer might be up to?" Sam asked as they walked towards the bar.  
  
"My guess would be that his priority is to locate you or another vessel that'll last him for more than a few days," Dean responded.  
  
"But he can't take me now, right? We just have that final part of the ritual to complete and then I'm all in the clear."  
  
"Unless you say yes again, then yeah."  
  
"I won't."  
  
The steel in his brother's voice would have convinced Dean of the truth behind those words even if he hadn't already known them to be true. If there was one thing that he was certain of it was that now that Sam had discovered exactly what it meant to be an angelic vessel for the devil that his brother was never going to allow it to happen again. Not only had it been extremely traumatic for Sam, but they both knew that now that Lucifer knew it was possible for his brother to take control when allowed to be aware, that the devil would just keep Sam under all the time. And unlike the situation with himself and Michael, or even any other vessel, that would be the end of that as Sam couldn't return to consciousness on his own.


	171. Chapter 170

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam learns more about Dean and Castiel's relationship, including things he really didn't want to know.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
"Hey, Gorgeous," Dean said as he reached the bar and smiled widely at the beautiful bartender standing behind it.  
  
"Dean!" Sam hissed next to him.  
  
The urge to sigh and roll his eyes was great, but Dean resisted, keeping his attention on the bartender instead. He'd noticed her earlier when they'd first come in (he was in a happy and committed relationship, not blind) and he'd also noticed that her flirting was of the carefree variety without any intention of carrying through on any of it. It wasn't his fault that his brother couldn't tell the difference.  
  
"Hello, Handsome. What can I get you?" the woman replied and from her necklace Dean was gonna take a wild guess and say her name was Crystal.  
  
It was either that or she was a lesbian and dating a Crystal, which would make all of this even more harmless.  
  
"I guess it depends. What's on offer?"  
  
"I can't believe you!" Sam stated, voice low and dark.  
  
"What are you up for?" Crystal shot back, completely ignoring Sam and leaning provocatively on the bar.  
  
Since Dean knew that she did it just to let him cop a peak, he obliged and his easy smile grew to let her know he appreciated what he saw. If he hadn't been with Castiel he'd definitely have pushed a little more than normal to see if he couldn't entice her back to his room with him despite the fact that she wasn't actively looking for someone.  
  
"Well, see, I'm always up for something new if it comes highly recommended by a beautiful woman," Dean replied before he waved a careless hand at his brother. "He'll have a Fosters."  
  
"Ah, I see."  
  
"Yeah, what can I say? He has no taste and I tried so hard."  
  
"Dean," Sam reprimanded, through clenched teeth.  
  
"Don't worry, honey, we've got Fosters here," Crystal reassured Sam before looking back at Dean with a flirtatious smile. "And I know just the thing for you, Handsome."  
  
"I look forward to it," Dean responded easily.  
  
"Damnit, Dean, how could you?" Sam demanded angrily the moment that Crystal stepped away.  
  
This time Dean did sigh as he dragged his eyes away from Crystal and the way she sashayed her hips just a fraction more than necessary as she walked away. Damn but she was just his kind of woman; fun loving, open and provocative but definitely well able to take care of herself. He bet that his brother couldn't see that last part either. Despite all of their father's attempts to the contrary, Sam had never quite mastered the ability to take someone in at a glance and tell how likely they were to have had any kind of self-defense training. He, however, had taken to that particular lesson like a duck to water, especially when it came to humans and he knew without a doubt that someone had taken the time to make sure that Crystal knew how to handle herself. He might not be able to tell what kind of techniques she'd been taught or her proficiency, but he was absolutely certain that she'd been taught how to fight at least enough to not have to worry about being pawed at by anyone she didn't want without being able to give them a very firm 'no' in response.  
  
"Dude, chill," Dean said, turning to look at his brother.  
  
"Chill? You want me to chill when you're cheating on Cas? On your  _angel_  husband who can smite someone just as soon as look at them?"  
  
Indignation lit Dean up. "Hey, I'm not cheating!"  
  
"You're hitting on her."  
  
"No, I'm  _flirting_  with her, there's a difference."  
  
"No there's not."  
  
"Yes, there is. Hitting on someone means you want to follow up on it. Flirting meanwhile can be harmless fun just for the sake of it."  
  
"So you're leading her on."  
  
"Oh, for crying out loud! Dude, she  _likes_  the attention, you saw her, but she's got no more desire to follow through on any of this than I do. And so help me, if you ask me how I can tell, I'll slap you. Bitch."  
  
"Jerk."  
  
"Let me guess," Crystal said, coming back with a bottle and glass. "Brothers, right?"  
  
"How'd you guess?"  
  
"Got a few of my own."  
  
"Let me guess, they teach you how to fight?" Dean asked.  
  
Crystal's eyebrows rose and her smile grew. "Yep, wouldn't let me work here without it."  
  
"Good."  
  
"Okay, here's your Fosters and this is something new from Belgium."  
  
"It got a name?" Dean inquired amused.  
  
"Nothing either of us can pronounce, but it's full-bodied and goes down easy and smooth."  
  
"Does it now?"  
  
"Mmm, yeah," Crystal replied, lowering her eyelashes and regarding him from under them before she slowly ran them over him, licking her lips and Dean nearly laughed aloud as his brother choked on his cheap Australian beer. "Can I get you anything else?"  
  
"Yeah, a Smirnoff Ice, a Corona and then I'll need your help on the last one."  
  
"Sure thing, Sugar."  
  
Dean couldn't help but follow her with his eyes again as he took a sip of his beer. It was everything that she'd said it would be and he'd have to get her to write the name down so he could get his husband to bring him back some if Castiel ever passed through Belgium.  
  
"Seriously?" Sam demanded, still sounding scandalized.  
  
"Dude, we already went over this."  
  
"Cas is looking, jackass. How do you think he's gonna feel seeing you chat up some random chick?"  
  
A quick glance over his shoulder showed Dean that his bond mate was indeed watching him and he smiled at Castiel before turning back to his brother. "Look, Sammy, if anything this just proves my point. Trust me, Cas has a serious possessive streak and he'd be over here in a flash if he felt even the tiniest bit of jealousy."  
  
His brother goggled at him. "Cas is possessive?"  
  
"Oh, you have no idea," Dean replied, wriggling his eyebrows as a dirty grin crossed his face.  
  
"Dude, TMI! TMI!"  
  
"There's no such thing as TMI in my book," Crystal stated as she returned with two more bottles.  
  
This time Dean did laugh aloud. "A woman after my own heart."  
  
"Oh, you have no idea."  
  
"Don't encourage him," Sam pleaded. "He's with someone."  
  
"Like I'd be able to miss that," Crystal snorted.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You seriously think that two hot guys like that can enter this bar and that I wouldn't notice them or the way they interacted?"  
  
"You saw that, did you?" Dean asked.  
  
"Oh, yeah. And can I say, hot!"  
  
For a moment Dean just blinked as his brother sputtered before he threw his head back and laughed loudly. As if she hadn't already seemed perfect, this was just the icing on the cake. Seriously, if he wasn't already happily married, he'd definitely have stuck around here for a while, that was for sure.  
  
"What... but... that's," Sam floundered.  
  
"What? You don't think a girl can find the thought of two guys hot? Guys think of two girls like that all the time."  
  
"I don't!"  
  
"Like I said, I tried," Dean managed to get out while shaking his head, though he was having a hard time suppressing his laughter. "But he's just that hopeless."  
  
"I'm gonna have to side with your brother on this one," Crystal told Sam. "I pity you. I mean if two girls are as hot as your brother and his partner, how can you  _not_  think of them together?"  
  
"Dude, he's my brother!" Sam protested. "I so don't need to picture that!"  
  
"I suppose. Now, you said something about needing another drink?"  
  
"Yeah," Dean confirmed. "It's for Cas actually. He's got this sweet tooth and doesn't like beer."  
  
"No one's perfect."  
  
"Close enough."  
  
"No arguments there," Crystal replied, her eyes shifting from him back to their table.  
  
If his brother had expected him to get all huffy and defensive now that he was on the opposite side of the equation Sam was just going to have to be disappointed. Dean knew damn well how good his angel looked and had no problem with anyone else appreciating that fact, especially not like this when all that was being done was appreciation.  
  
"Anyway, he's more of a cocktail guy; sex on the beach, blowjob, Smirnoff Ice. I was wondering if you had anything else to recommend along those lines? He's newer to alcohol and I wanna see what else he likes."  
  
"I've got just the thing, give me a few minutes."  
  
"You're incorrigible," Sam stated as soon as they were alone again.  
  
"Thought you already knew that."  
  
"I did, until you came back married. To an angel."  
  
Dean shrugged. "What can I say? Cas likes me just the way I am."  
  
"And just when I thought you couldn't change, you do. You do realize that you sound like a sappy romance novel now, right?"  
  
"Hey!"  
  
"I'm just saying."  
  
"And how the hell would you know what those sound like anyway?"  
  
Sam's face clouded over instantly. "Jess. She used to like them and got one on tape for a road trip we took to go see her parents."  
  
"Shit, sorry man."  
  
"That's okay, you didn't know."  
  
That didn't make Dean feel any better, but before he could think of anything else to say, they were no longer alone at the bar. A woman in a tight shirt and short skirt squeezed into the space between them, carelessly forcing Sam back and flashing him a killer smile.  
  
"Hey there, Sexy. Buy a girl a drink?"  
  
Unlike Crystal, Dean could tell that this one meant business and the smile he gave her was his most subdued of the evening. "Sorry, I'm here with someone."  
  
"Who, Crystal? I know she's seeing someone else. You trying to play hard to get?"  
  
As she said it, the woman was leaning closer to him, crowding into his personal space and placing a hand on his forearm, but before Dean could set her right she jerked back unexpectedly. Seconds later an arm snaked around his waist and he was pulled back firmly against his husband's chest. If he hadn't felt the sudden possessiveness and intent flowing from Castiel across their bond seconds before it had happened, he'd have jumped straight out of his skin. As it was he could only hope that his bond mate hadn't flown straight across the room.  
  
"Back off," Castiel bit out darkly. "This is your only warning."  
  
"Like I said, I'm here with someone," Dean repeated with a smirk as she stared at them in shock before storming off. "Well I did warn her."  
  
"Warnings don't work on Martha," Crystal stated as she returned, a huge smile on her face. "The existence or appearance of girlfriends or wives doesn't generally work either. First time it's been a boyfriend though."  
  
"Husband," Castiel correctly immediately.  
  
"Oh, okay. Cas, right?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Well then this is for you. Let me know what you think of it."  
  
"What is it?" Dean asked, not immediately recognizing the cocktail.  
  
"Don't know, I haven't decided on a name for it yet."  
  
"Is there anything you do that I'd  _dis_ like?" Dean asked.  
  
"Dean!" Sam exclaimed.  
  
"What?"  
  
Instead of replying his brother made an abrupt little gesture at Castiel and now Dean did roll his eyes. Did Sam really still think that his husband had a problem with his flirting with Crystal after what his brother had just witnessed? There were times when he seriously wondered how they could possibly be related, he really did.  
  
"Your brother is cute," Crystal said.  
  
"That's one word for it."  
  
"Hey!" Sam protested, scowling at them. "Excuse me for thinking that there's a right and a wrong way to treat a spouse."  
  
"I have no problem with Dean interacting with other people," Castiel stated.  
  
"Flirting is different from interacting, Cas."  
  
"Not for your brother, not with a beautiful woman."  
  
"Nice, hot and smart," Crystal admired. "Though I have to admit, Handsome, I wouldn't have pegged him as the dominant one in your relationship."  
  
Dean laughed as his little brother choked on his beer once more at her straightforwardness. "Yeah, well, we switch things up depending on what mood we're in. Keeps things interesting."  
  
This time it was Crystal's turn to laugh as Sam flailed for half a second before grabbing some of the drinks and fleeing back to the table.  
  
Prude.  
  
"Really?" Crystal questioned. "You weren't just saying that to scare away your brother?"  
  
"Nope, right, Cas?" Dean asked, twisting in his husband's arms to look at him.  
  
"Indeed," Castiel replied.  
  
For a moment Dean hesitated, but then he looked at Crystal out of the corner of his eye and remembered another bar more years ago than he cared to remember and two girls that had been involved. There had been flirting simply for the sake of flirting back then too but he'd never forget how it had ended and he figured they were far North enough to give Crystal the same kind of memory.  
  
With that, Dean leaned forward and claimed his bond mate's lips in a searing kiss. As he'd expected, their surroundings didn't even phase Castiel in the slightest and his husband responded instantly. Crystal's delighted laughter washed over them and he smiled before deepening the kiss, snaking his tongue into Castiel's mouth. His angel moaned and brought his own tongue up to battle for dominance.  
  
"Dammit, guys, my shift's not over for another two hours!" Crystal protested, sounding short of breath herself.  
  
Despite knowing exactly what situation Crystal found herself in, Dean didn't feel repentant in the slightest. Unless he was very much mistaken, she didn't really want them to stop when they did either.  
  
"You're mine tonight," Castiel promised darkly, whispering it into his ear after the kiss was over and it was all that Dean could do not to whine.  
  


* * *

  
In the early morning silence the creaking of one of the loose floorboards behind him made Bobby frown as he looked up from the book that he was reading. He'd woken up early again and decided to forgo any futile attempts at sleeping in order to research instead. With the potential connection to an antichrist that Crowley had discovered, he was going over everything that the Campbell library had on the subject. Most of it seemed to be the same misinformation that his own books at home contained, or rather what he could remember them containing. He'd never specifically looked the subject up, but he'd come across a few references to it while researching everything that he could find on the Apocalypse. The two topics were rather intimately intertwined after all.  
  
"Good morning, Bobby," Castiel greeted. "Was that an appropriate method of alerting you to my presence without startling you?"  
  
"What? Oh, yeah, thanks," Bobby replied.  
  
"I am glad. Since Dean can detect our arrival from the sound our wings make, I'm afraid that I have not given much thought as to how best to approach other humans when they are preoccupied with other matters."  
  
"Well you did fine just now. So, what's up?"  
  
"I have spoken with Belliel and while he cannot recollect having ever seen a spell, potion or ritual that requires all of these ingredients in the library, he does remember Harahel once saying something about a spell that utilized some of these ingredients."  
  
"And does Harahel remember what it was?"  
  
"Angels always remember, we do not forget things," Castiel replied sadly. "The problem is that I cannot ask Harahel as she died during the Rebellion."  
  
"I'm sorry," Bobby replied.  
  
"It was a long time ago now, but now I cannot help but wonder if her death might not have had something to do with the fact that she knew something about this."  
  
"You think she could have been specially targeted for knowing it?"  
  
"I would not put it past Lucifer. He was already actively defying Father and attempting to take over Heaven, so what is the murder of a sister in comparison to that?"  
  
"I can't really comment on that. Lucifer's never been anything but the devil to me, so between that and everything that's happened the past few years I just can't see him as anything other than... ah-"  
  
"Pure evil?"  
  
"To put it bluntly."  
  
"You need not fear about upsetting me, Bobby," Castiel said with a sad smile as he stepped forward and took a seat opposite from him. "I am well aware of how humans perceive my brother. Besides, after all that he's done lately, either directly or indirectly to myself and Dean, I find that I cannot view him as I once did. No one threatens and endangers the life and soul of my bond mate the way he did and gets anything less than my full and utter loathing and anger. Any feelings that I may have had left for my brother died in that barn."  
  
Not having had any siblings himself, Bobby wasn't quite sure what to say to that. He'd seen enough of Dean and Sam's often tumultuous relationship to know how strong those types of bonds could be, but he'd also seen both brothers chose a significant other over their brother. Now in Sam's case that had clearly been a mistake of the worst sort and one that he wasn't sure that the two would ever fully recover from, but neither would their relationship ever be quite the same now that Dean had made the same choice himself. It was just one of those things that irrevocably changed the dynamics of an existing sibling relationship whether it was made correctly or incorrectly.  
  
But speaking of relationships, Bobby had a question he'd been meaning to ask the angel and now seemed as good a time as any. "So, you and Dean huh?"  
  
"Yes," Castiel replied.  
  
It took Bobby a moment to realize that, yes, he was actually going to have to elaborate on that in order to get the information that he wanted. Sometimes it was easy to forget just how alien Castiel really was. The angel had improved so much since before what they had thought was the end of the Apocalypse that it was hard to reconcile the two at times.  
  
"So what exactly is an angelic marriage besides the bonding of soul to Grace?" Bobby asked.  
  
Castiel frowned. "There is no 'besides' in this situation, Bobby. The bonding  _is_  the marriage, or at least that is the only human word that can even remotely be used to describe what it is that a true bonding implies."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Think about it this way. You are aware that the soul is the true essence of any particular human, right?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Well so is an angel's Grace. When two angels or- in the case of myself and Dean- an angel and a human bond, we are forging a strong connection between the true essence of ourselves. It is like intertwining our very beings, unfiltered by either body or vessel."  
  
Bobby tried to envision what that meant but he could admit to himself that what he was able to conjure was probably laughably far off the mark. Still, it was enough to make him swallow, hard. The sheer intimacy and trust implied in what Castiel was saying was almost incomprehensible to him and to think that  _Dean_  of all people had been able to get to a point where that had been okay was simply mindboggling. It also said all that he needed to know about what the boy felt for what was essentially his soul husband. Not that he'd doubted Dean's feelings for the angel, but it was sometimes difficult to tell exactly what the boy was feeling as Dean really could clam up if he wanted to.  
  
This, however... Bobby had to be honest and admit that even he'd have a hard time simply  _considering_  that level of connection with another being. It was Dean's soul they were talking about here after all. This was a marriage that was truly eternal and not just the 'till death do us part' spiel that humans were used to. In any other situation he knew that the mere thought of his surrogate son's soul being bound like that would be enough to downright terrify him, but now it didn't and that was all due to Castiel being the one to whom Dean had tied his soul. If there was anyone out there that he knew would always, but  _always_ , put the boy first it was this particular angel.  
  
Even when Castiel's faith in Dean had been at its lowest, Bobby had seen the angel do right by the boy. Which was far more than he himself or anyone else, dead or alive, could claim.  
  
"I see," Bobby finally replied.  
  
Castiel smiled. "I sincerely doubt that you do, Bobby. I am, however, at a loss as to how else to describe the bonding. I would suggest that you speak with Dean on the matter. As both a human and someone who is bonded, he would be far better suited to explain precisely what it is."  
  
"I will. But I did have one other question for you."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Have you considered human marriage?"


	172. Chapter 171

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Gwen try and hold their own in the midst of a large demonic and angelic battle.

**FUTURE**  
  
  
Sam swore as the demon's knife caught him across the cheek but luckily it was just a scratch. Nonetheless he took great satisfaction in sticking the demon-killing knife into the demon's chest and watching its eyes flare as it died. He was completely unable to enjoy his victory beyond that though as there were already two new demons ready to take the place of the one that he'd just killed.  
  
"Fucking hell!" Sam cursed, dodging a blow from the first before kicking the second one's legs out from under it. "How many of them are there?"  
  
"Don't ask questions you don't want the answers to," Gwen responded, shooting a demon full of rock salt.  
  
"There has to be a finite number to their horde."  
  
"Less talk, more killing."  
  
Jesus but his family was weird. It was a fact that Sam had known ever since he was a little boy, even before he'd forced the truth of what their father did out of his older brother, and yet he was still somehow surprised by it even now. After all who else had a cousin who'd issue orders like that to them while standing back to back halfway around the world from home, fighting for their lives in the midst of a sea of battling angels and demons? It was the Apocalypse in a way that their other fights had never been, not even the final one in Stull Cemetery.  
  
Gwen's presence disappeared from behind him, but Sam wasn't able to so much as turn his head to see what had happened as the demon before him now actually knew her hand-to-hand skills.  
  
"My Lord will be pleased to see you, Sam Winchester," she stated, giving him a bloody smile.  
  
"Seriously?" Sam demanded, totally unable to help to channel his brother. " _That's_  the best you've got? You sound like a cheap movie villain."  
  
The demon snarled at him and lunged forward with a series of sharp jabs at his ribs that Sam had to dance back to avoid. "Laugh all you want now, Winchester, but we'll see who's laughing later when Father claims you as his own once more."  
  
"Never going to happen!" Sam shot back, using the demon's forward momentum with her next move against her to trip her and throw her to the ground. "I'll never let him in again.  _Never_!"  
  
With that, Sam stabbed her viciously in the neck, his original target missed as she twisted in a failed attempt to avoid his killing blow.  
  
"Sam, watch out!" Gwen cried out.  
  
Acting on pure instinct, Sam shoved himself back- towards the sound of his cousin's voice- and only just avoided having his head blown off by a round from his own shotgun. Instead the blast hit another demon, sending him screaming backwards into two others that had tried to use the commotion to rush Gwen and himself. He ignored them in favor of the greater threat and glared at the demon that had found the weapon he'd lost in an earlier struggle.  
  
"That's mine," Sam stated darkly.  
  
"Not anymore," the demon taunted. "Now it's mine and I'm going to kill you with it."  
  
Though the demon had raised and aimed the shotgun at him, the next shot came from a different direction entirely and it was the demon that crumpled to the ground. Not wanting to lose the chance to regain his weapon, Sam lunged forwards and pulled it from the corpse's hand before turning to face his savior. Surprisingly it was another black-eyed son of a bitch.  
  
"Huh?" Sam questioned.  
  
"He disobeyed," the newest demon stated. "Lucifer's orders were quite clear when it came to you."  
  
Oh, of course. He really should have seen that one coming and Sam would have kicked himself for the oversight if he'd had the time to do so. Instead he focused on his current opponent and tried to figure out the best course of action. The demon already had his gun up and ready, but it had also indicated that it wanted him alive as per the devil's orders. Which meant that he actually had the advantage here. Not pausing to think about it or the possible consequences if he was wrong, he brought his shotgun up and fired.  
  
The fighting continued in a whirlwind all around Sam and Gwen and he'd totally lost track of where anyone was other than his cousin. Bobby had started off with them and he really didn't want to think too closely about what might have happened to the older hunter after they'd been separated; forced apart by a veritable wave of black-eyed sons of bitches that had suddenly poured in out of nowhere, succeeding in forcing even the angels back onto the defensive. And speaking of the angels, was it just his imagination or were there a hell of a lot less of them now than there had been before? A few quick glances about seemed to confirm that fear and he felt a wave of terror wash over him at the thought.  
  
If the demons were successfully killing the angels then what chance did the two of them stand? As if to make matters worse, the next angel that Sam caught sight of was carelessly stalking past the throng of demons without a care in the world, clearly indicating that it was the wrong kind of angel. And shit but just how many different kinds of allies did Lucifer have? Luckily for them, one of Heaven's angels arrived just at that moment and managed to distract the Hell's angel before it had a chance to catch sight of them. Or rather, to catch sight of him.  
  
The thought made Sam swallow thickly but it gave him the little extra incentive that he needed to force back the demon in a little boy's meatsuit that had tried to strangle him. He was reluctant to stab him just in case the boy was still alive when a stream of water hit them and the demon screamed as its flesh began to sizzle and burn. With a smile, he used the demon's pain to twist it around so that Gwen had a better target and was able to hit him full in the face with the Holy water filled soaker that she'd gotten from Dean. He briefly regretted not taking one as well, but all things said and done, he infinitely preferred using the knife. Knowing that he was killing the demons rather than just forcing them to flee was far more satisfactory for him even if it meant that he had to get closer to his opponents in order to do it. This, however, was an exception.  
  
The moment that the demon fled from the boy, Sam grabbed one of the many modified hex bags that he carried and shoved it into one of the boy's pockets. He didn't have the heart to feel for a pulse, far too afraid of what he might find. Besides, dead or alive, the hex bag was all that he could do for the kid now as there was no way that they could drag the boy along with them as they fought. If anything that was far more likely to get the kid killed than leaving him here unattended but closed to further demonic possession.  
  
"Michael!"  
  
The cry, though far away, carried clear across the fighting and Sam looked up towards it along with everyone else all around him. The volume of the voice alone would have been enough for him to know that it was an angel doing the talking, but combined with the familiarity of it and the name that it called out, he knew who it was that he would see even before he caught sight of the figure clad in a suit so white that it was almost painful to look upon in the bright sunlight.  
  
Lucifer had arrived.  
  
For one long, horrendous moment it was like this fact froze everyone on the battlefield, human, angel and demon alike. Then there was movement out of the far corner of Sam's right eye and he turned his head slightly even as dread rose swiftly within him, all but threatening to choke him. Dean. Or rather, technically, Michael. Not that it truly made any difference seeing as the archangel was currently using his brother as his vessel. If one of them fell in this fight, so would the other and that thought absolutely terrified him in a way that he'd not been in a really long time. He'd only just gotten his brother back, he couldn't lose him again, not right when things were finally starting to get better between them again.  
  
At that particular moment Sam would have been willing to take anything, any kind of relationship with his brother, even a really shitty one, if it meant that Dean made it through this confrontation alive.  
  
"Lucifer," Michael acknowledged, coming to a stop a short distance away from the devil.  
  
"What? That's it, Brother? No big speeches on how I'm misguided and need to repent and that Father will take me back?" Lucifer sneered.  
  
"No, we are beyond that now. Or rather,  _you_  are beyond that now."  
  
"Whatever happened to Father's love being all-encompassing and His forgiveness total?"  
  
"Father isn't here now, Lucifer, and my ability to forgive is not so absolute."  
  
"And what of your love?"  
  
"I never stopped loving you, Brother," Michael replied calmly. "Not even when I started hating you."  
  
Those words made Sam flinch as if he'd received a physical blow. Though it was clearly Michael who was in control of his brother's meatsuit and the archangel's presence altered the tone of Dean's voice noticeably, it was also still recognizably his big brother's voice that was saying those words and they cut him to the quick even though they weren't directed at him. Michael had said the word 'brother' and his own relationship with Dean had gotten so strained that it wasn't entirely outside the realm of possibility that he could have heard those exact same words directed at him by his brother at one point.  
  
Sam was happy to note that he wasn't the only one stunned and hurt by those words as Lucifer clearly hadn't been expecting them either. He couldn't help but feel a vindictive streak of pleasure at that. Let the bastard take that. Michael had clearly always been as forgiving of his brother's sins as Dean had been of his own, which meant that he really should be the last one to speak out against someone else's brother doing the same. But this was  _Lucifer_  that they were talking about here and that made all of the difference in the world as far as he was concerned.  
  
The very distinctive click of a shotgun firing on empty drew Sam's attention to his left and he turned to see Gwen aiming at a demon that had decided to use the distraction Michael and Lucifer were causing to try and sneak up on her. Without a moment's hesitation, his cousin tossed the shotgun up into the air and grabbed hold of the barrels, using her new grasp to smash the demon's face in with the stock, pounding it a few more times afterword for good measure. He couldn't help but shake his head at the sight. There were times when Gwen really did remind him of Dean, which had always disturbed him on several levels as a female version of his brother was more than his brain could cope with even at the best of times.  
  
The demon's attack though seemed to be the trigger for all of the other demons around them and Sam had to turn his attention back to the fighting rather than keeping an eye on his brother and Michael which he really wanted to do. Whenever he got a moment he did glance over though and what he saw made his mouth go dry. While he had seen two angels battling it out before, he'd never witnessed two  _archangels_  fighting until now and what a sight it was to behold. Demons and other angels fled, leaving a large circle of free space around the two brothers as they traded blows, their swords and power wreaking havoc all around them and decimating the ruins, reducing it even further to rubble.  
  
Sam had absolutely no problems admitting that even having been Lucifer's vessel, he'd had absolutely no fucking clue as to the true power of an archangel. Nor that he was both awed and terrified beyond belief just now, and no small part of himself either. It was the first time that it really was driven home to him that if Michael was killed or failed, that they were truly and utterly screwed here. There was simply no way that they could even hope to stand up to  _this_  and he found it totally incomprehensible to him that they'd ever even thought that they could. God but they'd truly been hopelessly naive despite all of Castiel's attempts to make them realize the true power of an archangel.  
  
Heaven's most terrifying and absolute weapons indeed.  
  
Invisible power slammed into Sam and he cried out as he was sent flying, knocking into Gwen and sending them both tumbling to the ground in a hopeless mess of limbs.  
  
"Fuck," Gwen cursed, managing to pull her water gun out and spraying the immediate area around them indiscriminately.  
  
"Sorry," Sam said as he scrambled to disentangle them as the cries of demons hit with the Holy water sounded far too close for his comfort.  
  
The next cry was far louder and Sam looked up to see a demon in a female meatsuit skewered on the end of an angelic blade. The angel that was revealed when the demon crumpled to the ground was one that he'd seen before, speaking with both Dean and Castiel at various times. The demons immediately around them all pulled back, clearly far more hesitant to face a Heavenly opponent that a few Earthly ones.  
  
"Are you alright, Sam and Gwen?" the angel inquired.  
  
"Yes, thanks, Xarael," Gwen replied.  
  
Xarael? Now that his cousin mentioned the name, Sam vaguely recalled having heard it before though he couldn't immediately place where. Regardless of that, though, he was more than happy to accept any help that they could get, especially when it made the demons more wary of approaching them. He used the brief reprieve to look back up to see how Dean and Michael were faring but they weren't where they'd been before. Instead he caught sight of Castiel fighting Simiel, their blows just as violent and destructive as those he'd seen between Michael and Lucifer, or at least so they appeared to his human eyes. He knew the archangels themselves considered there to be a very distinctive and important power gap between themselves. A short distance away Raphael was battling what appeared at first glance to be two demons, but from the resistance they were managing to put up he wouldn't be surprised if they were actually some of the angels that had fallen with Lucifer and taken to the darkness more than some of their other brethren that had rebelled with the devil.  
  
"Sam, down!" Gwen cried out and Sam dropped like a rock.  
  
Despite his immediate reaction, he still felt like he could feel the salt rushing by his ears and Sam had to bite back the instinctive reaction to snap at his cousin for being reckless. Gwen had probably just saved his life and it was his own fault for getting distracted in the first place. Being down though gave him the perfect angle to shoot another demon that was creeping up on them. The one after that got a killing blow with his knife. Xarael's presence made the demons warier but they still kept coming nonetheless.  
  
It took Sam a while but when he was faced with a demon in a small male meatsuit that was threatening to trash his ass, he realized that the demons which chose to attack them with an angel in such close proximity weren't the usual run of the mill demons. No, instead they were now facing the slightly older and more powerful demons instead. On some level he didn't mind, but it did sting his pride more than a little that he was having such a hard time dealing with a demon a third of his size who wasn't wielding anything more than his fists.  
  
"You think that puny little knife will save you, Sam Winchester?" the demon questioned with a laugh. "What? Too afraid to face me without it?"  
  
Sam's eyes narrowed but he refused to rise to the bait. Not only did the black-eyed son of a bitch have a massive strength advantage over him, but given this one's serious fighting skills, he really,  _really_  wanted to kill it rather than making it flee the meatsuit that it had taken or vanish off to somewhere else. Those thoughts vanished as he had to pull one of the new moves that Dean had only just taught him to block the next blow. Instinct took over after that and all that he was aware of beyond his opponent was where in relation to himself Gwen and Xarael were. He wasn't sure how long it took, but it was more than enough time for the demon to land a few significant blows that left him aching before he managed to create the opportunity that he'd been waiting for and he instantly took advantage of it and buried his knife to the hilt in that demon's chest.  
  
"Oh, Father, no!" Xarael exclaimed and Sam's heart stopped as he saw the expression of horror on her face.  
  
His own head whipped around to see what was going on and Sam froze in place as he caught sight of a ball of what he could only describe as dark flames or light growing steadily larger in Lucifer's hands as the devil chanted something foreign that hurt his ears just to listen to.  
  
"Dean! Michael!" Sam called out, desperately wishing he were closer.  
  
His eyes darted about to see his brother covered in a veritable swarm of demons and Sam just suddenly knew that this had been a setup.  _This_  must have been Lucifer's plan all along, which meant that whatever the devil had planned was bad. Really, really,  _really_  bad. Before he could even think of doing anything else. There was a flash of light that seared Sam's eyes and all of the demons swarming over Michael all but melted away and the archangel was left free to turn his attention back to Lucifer.  
  
It was too little too late though and Sam watched in horror as Lucifer thrust his hands out and the ball of dark flames shot straight for Michael, hitting the archangel right in the chest before morphing into some kind of purple lightning. It raced across Dean's meatsuit as Michael cried out in pain even as the two were blasted backwards and they were sent crashing through the ruined columns to sprawl brokenly across the rubble beyond. It had all happened so quickly that it took him a moment or two to fully process what had just happened but when he did his heart was racing in his chest.  
  
As a result it took Sam far longer to realize that  _Michael wasn't moving_  than it should have.  
  
"He's gone," Xarael whispered, shock and disbelief rife in her voice.  
  
" _What?_ " Sam demanded.  
  
"Michael... he's... he's gone."  
  
"What do you mean, he's gone?" Gwen pressed. "Are you saying that he's dead?"  
  
"I- I don't know. His presence, it's just gone."  
  
"Presence?" Sam questioned, eyes drawn back towards Lucifer as Castiel attacked the devil with a cry of rage.  
  
Raphael instantly followed, but so did Simiel and the four archangels all but collided in a clash of sound and fury. The resulting battle was a sight to behold, terrifying and awe-inspiring all at once.  
  
"An archangel's presence is always felt unless they go to great lengths to either disguise or hide it. Michael's just vanished," Xarael explained.  
  
Without truly thinking about it, Sam flung himself forwards into the mass of demons separating him from his brother. Dean had to be alive, his brother just  _had_  to be. He'd already lost Dean far too many times for it to be any other way. The demons that had seemed so much more challenging just a short while ago now hardly even stood a chance as he ploughed straight through them, Xarael and Gwen at his back. He wasn't entirely sure whether that was because of his own fury or Xarael's but he frankly didn't care so long as it meant that he got to Dean.  
  
They were making visible progress when there was a blinding flash of light that forced Sam to squeeze his eyes shut or risk losing his sight and his heart stopped in his chest. He knew that light, or at least he recognized it as being a far stronger version of something that he'd witnessed before in a storage room in upstate New York.  
  
It was the light emitted by the dying Grace of an angel.  
  
Part of Sam didn't want to open his eyes when the light died down because he knew that if he did so that he'd been totally unable to help but look over to see what had happened and he wasn't sure that he could handle that right now. There was absolutely no doubt in his mind that one of the archangels had just been killed, the light had simply been far too much brighter than before for it to have been anyone else. The only question was  _which_ archangel had it been?  
  
Despite the terror coiling in the pit of his stomach (or was it rather because of it?), Sam was completely unable to keep his eyes closed. He simply  _had_  to know the truth, no matter how horrible it could be as nothing could be worse than just not knowing. Automatically his eyes were drawn back to where he'd last seen his brother, meatsuit lying prone and broken amidst the rubble of the ruins. Relief flooded through him as he found Dean just as he'd last seen him, though it was instantly followed by the knowledge that he didn't actually know whether that was a good thing or not. True, there hadn't been the flare of dying Grace when Lucifer had unleashed whatever magic the devil had uncovered, but that didn't mean anything. For all he knew that flare of Grace didn't always happen or Lucifer had found some way of doing the angelic equivalent of destroying someone's mind while leaving their bodies physically intact.  
  
The myriad of horrendous possibilities paraded through Sam's mind and his elation and relief instantly vanished. It was probably far too much to hope that it had actually been Lucifer that had been killed, wasn't it?  
  
Sam's fears were realized when he finally turned his head to see Lucifer pull his sword out of his brother's throat.  
  



	173. Chapter 172

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobby and Castiel discuss human marriage.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
"Human marriage?" Castiel repeated.  
  
"Yeah," Bobby confirmed.  
  
"Angelic bonding encompasses all aspects of human marriage and infinitely more."  
  
"Not all aspects and I can think of one that you might like and which Dean would definitely appreciate."  
  
Castiel's smile instantly vanished and Bobby thought that he probably should have worded that better. He'd seen enough of Dean and Castiel's relationship to know that the angel took it extremely seriously and that even the slightest hint of him not doing something well enough was a very serious accusation.  
  
"What have I overlooked?"  
  
"Something typically human," Bobby explained soothingly. "You've obviously got the... uh soul side of the equation covered far more thoroughly than any human marriage could ever hope to do, but this is something physical. More a symbol of the actual marriage really, but one which I know means a lot to Dean."  
  
"A symbol?"  
  
"Yes, but I think it would be easier to show you than for me to just explain it. Can you take us back to my place?"  
  
"Of course," Castiel replied, rising to his feet and waiting for him to do the same. "And relax, Bobby, an archangel is far more able to compensate for human bodily functions than I ever could before as a mere seraph. There will be no adverse side effects from this trip, nor any other fleeting unpleasantness."  
  
"Oh, that's good, thanks."  
  
Despite the angel's words, Bobby couldn't help but brace himself as Castiel raised two fingers and touched them to his forehead. It proved unnecessary as Dean's husband really hadn't been kidding when he said that archangels were able to ensure a smooth ride. The trip was instantaneous and if he weren't suddenly in his own living room he'd never have believed that they'd actually flown anywhere.  
  
"Come, this way," Bobby said once he got over his surprise, leading the angel to his bedroom.  
  
What he wanted was kept hidden in a small box buried deep in his closet. It was something which Bobby rarely took out as the pain associated with those two little objects was far too great even after all of this time for him to be able to stand looking at them more than once or twice a year. John Winchester, however, had taken a very different approach to the matter and because of that he knew this particular symbol of marriage had come to mean a great deal to Dean as the boy had grown up watching his father treat it with nothing short of reverence and respect and he was more than willing to set aside his own pain on the matter to give the boy what he knew Dean wanted and needed even if the idjit hadn't fully realized it himself just yet.  
  
When he finally found the box, Bobby picked it up reverently and turned around to find Castiel standing but a short distance away, watching him curiously. There was a sudden lump in his throat and he found that he couldn't do this here, in the bedroom. Not only were there far too many memories of Karen in here, both the good and the bad, but it would also just be awkward and far too likely to make his mind wander to places that he really didn't want it to. He'd already learned far more than he'd ever wanted to know about Dean's sex life in general and that trend unfortunately hadn't changed with this particular relationship.  
  
"Living room," Bobby forced out, fleeing the room and a confused angel.  
  
It wasn't until Bobby got to the living room that he realized that there were no footsteps behind him and when he glanced back it was to find an empty hall. When he turned back though Castiel was standing before him and he jumped despite the fact that he really should have seen it coming and the fact that the angel was actually giving him a decent amount of space for once.  
  
"Are you alright, Bobby?" Castiel asked with concern.  
  
"Yeah, sorry, it's just a painful topic even though Karen died a long time ago," Bobby replied. "And having the wound scraped raw not too long ago didn't help matters any either."  
  
"I'm sorry, Dean told me what Death did for Lucifer and that should never have happened."  
  
"Thanks. Anyway, come, sit." With that Bobby took a seat on the couch and indicated that the angel should join him. "How much do you know about human marriage?"  
  
"In its current incarnation?" Castiel asked. "Just that people declare their intentions at a ceremony in a church so that Father can be a witness to their commitment to each other."  
  
Bobby smiled sadly. "Yes, well, that's missing one crucial step. Here, see."  
  
With that Bobby opened the box and tilted it so that the angel could see its contents.  
  
"Rings?" Castiel inquired, still confused.  
  
"Wedding bands," Bobby corrected picking up his own one. "See during the ceremony humans exchange them with the husband putting the wife's ring on her finger and vice versa. Or well husbands as it would be in your case, but either way each partner puts the ring on the other's finger. And we put them on this finger," Bobby continued, slipping his own on to demonstrate.  
  
"I have seen many people wearing these before."  
  
"Yeah, I'm sure that you have. Almost everyone who is married wears them, and always on this hand. If you see someone with a ring on this hand then it means that they're married."  
  
Castiel's eyes flashed and Bobby knew that the angel had gotten it.  
  
"You mean," Castiel began. "That people without this ring are seen as available?"  
  
"Exactly. So that girl at the bar last night? She might not have approached Dean if he'd had a wedding band on his finger."  
  
"No, the bartender said that she wasn't deterred by a guy having a girlfriend or wife," Castiel informed him darkly. "But you're saying it would deter others?"  
  
"Anyone who respects the sanctity of marriage, yes."  
  
"May I?"  
  
"Sure," Bobby replied, taking his own ring off to hand it to the angel rather than letting Castiel pick up Karen's.  
  
"It looks so simple."  
  
"They don't have to, Karen and I just decided to get traditional ones, but these days they make them with all kinds of decorations on them. You can even get them personalized if you want to."  
  
"And this is important to Dean?"  
  
"The boy has never said anything about it either way to me, but his father never took his off, not even decades after Mary's death," Bobby said. "John would also stare at it sometimes, just turning it around his finger as he thought of her and I've seen Dean watching his father do that countless times."  
  
"So it would be an integral part of his idea of marriage, thank you for informing me of this, Bobby."  
  
"My pleasure. That idjit deserves to be happy more than anyone else that I know."  
  
"Dean has forgiven you."  
  
Bobby snorted. "Doesn't mean that I've forgiven myself."  
  
"Which is why you won't be making that same mistake again."  
  
The underlying implication that someone else would was not missed on Bobby, nor was the insinuation as to who exactly that would be but he found that he couldn't fault the angel for that particular thought. Not when Sam had proven it only far too accurate on several occasions in the past.  
  
"So, wedding bands?" Bobby asked to get them back on track.  
  
"I shall look into it."  
  
"Look into?"  
  
"This is made mostly of gold," Castiel said, holding up the ring. "And gold is considered valuable to humans and will therefore be expensive. The only money I have available to me is what Dean gives me and he is currently obtaining it from the Vatican."  
  
"I doubt that they'd disapprove of this particular use of their funds. Although, on second thought, they probably would. Either way I see your dilemma, but don't fear, I've got the solution for it right here," Bobby stated, pulling out the other thing which he kept in the box.  
  
It was a chequebook for an account that Karen had started in both their names the day that they'd gotten married, wanting to ensure that they have a proper college fund set up for when they'd need it as she'd planned on having several kids. The thought still pained him as it inevitably brought back the memory of their last argument and the one that they'd never had the chance to resolve before she'd been possessed and he'd been forced to kill her.   
  
"What is that?" Castiel asked.  
  
"It's a chequebook. It's another method of buying things. Here, what you do is you open it to a new check, then you fill in the date here, the name of the person or company you're giving the money to here, the amount you want to spend here in numbers and here in letters, then the signature goes here and you tear it out and hand it to the person you owe the money to. They are then able to take it to their bank and have the money transferred into their account from yours."  
  
"But I have no account."  
  
"No, but I do."  
  
Castiel looked at him at that and it was all that Bobby could do not to start squirming like a little child. The angel had always had an intense gaze and he'd never quite been able to figure out how Dean could stand to be at the center of it for as long as the boy always had. He'd just always thought that it seemed far too much like Castiel was gazing right past his meatsuit into his very soul for his comfort and now was no different.  
  
"Are you sure?" Castiel finally questioned.  
  
"Yes, otherwise I'd never have offered it. Look, Karen started this account when we got married so that we'd be able to afford to send the kids that she wanted to college and I've never had the heart to empty it out and use it for something else as I've never been that desperate."  
  
"And you view Dean as you would a son."  
  
"Yeah," Bobby replied, voice harsh.  
  
If it had been anyone else, Bobby would have been furious, sure that they'd deliberately violated his privacy and read his mind. But this was Castiel and he knew for a fact that Dean had been quite adamant with all of his angels about the whole mind reading thing. Not to mention the fact that he'd witnessed Castiel being extremely intuitive when it came to anything pertaining to Dean even if the angel was still hopelessly naive or just plain clueless when it came to other aspects of humanity. One thing which he couldn't help but note with a certain sense of pride and warmth was the fact that most of the things Castiel seemed to be so good at deducing or taking to the next level were things that Dean knew at least something of which strongly indicated that the boy either knew how he viewed him or that Dean viewed him in a similar light.  
  
"Thank you very much, Bobby."  
  
"Just make him happy, you hear?"  
  


* * *

  
" _Hey, Mike, do you have a minute?_ " Dean sent, closing the book he'd just finished looking through and pushing it away from himself.  
  
He'd been debating this particular decision for the past few days and had finally made up his mind. It might be more than a bit nuts and he really had no particular desire to return to Heaven, but he really wanted to make sure that things were set right between himself and his grandfather and that wouldn't happen without this. So he was just going to have to buck up and take the bad with the necessary and hope that it all came out alright.  
  
"Hello, Dean," Michael said, appearing beside him.  
  
"Hey, Mike," Dean greeted with a smile. "Can you take me to someone's particular Heaven, or whatever is going on up there now?"  
  
"You want to go to Heaven?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Michael frowned. "Who is it that you would like to see?"  
  
"Samuel. I- with everything that happened I never did get to say goodbye to him and if I were in his shoes I'd never be able to forgive myself for what happened without hearing it expressed directly from the one I'd hurt first."  
  
"That is possible."  
  
His bond brother's easy consent now after hearing who he wanted to see told Dean all that he needed to know about what Michael had been thinking. The one thing that none of them- Castiel, Raphael, Michael or himself- had ever brought up in relation to Heaven was the issue of his parents. Him because of what Ash had said and what Zachariah had done. He was far too afraid of having his worst fears confirmed to even dare think about asking any of them and them... well he didn't really know why they didn't dare broach the topic but it made him fear that he was correct in thinking that the answer to his question wasn't good.  
  
"I will need to take you as my vessel," Michael warned.  
  
"Yeah, I know. Take me back to my room first though, okay? I really don't think that either Gwen or Sam would take very well to just finding Aunt Deirdre's meatsuit sitting vacant in the library. Oh, and the books on the table have all been checked, so we can take them back to Heaven with us."  
  
Michael agreed and it was next to no time before Dean found himself standing at the foot of his bed, looking down at his aunt's vacant meatsuit. It was getting faster and easier to let his bond brother in every time they did it and neither of them were suffering the old side effects anymore either which meant that Michael was ready to go seconds after changing vessel. It was a definite advantage and one that would serve them very well in the future if they ever needed the archangel at full power quickly.  
  
Their first stop in Heaven was the library so that Michael could return the books that Dean had read, but then they flew straight for the human portion of Heaven.  
  
" _Did Samuel choose the old style Heaven or did he want to be able to mingle with other souls?_ " Dean asked before they landed in a room that he recognized from his first trip to the past.  
  
" _Both,_ " Michael replied.  
  
" _Both?_ "  
  
" _Yes. Samuel spends most of his time in the new style of Heaven that Castiel created, but he does occasionally choose to come back to his memories and spend some time within them._ "  
  
Dean was about to ask why when the answer passed before him, literally. It was his mother, younger than he'd seen her during either of his time travel trips by a good ten years or so. She danced past them dressed in something that he wasn't even going to begin to try and figure out, straight into her father's arms.  
  
"Thank you, Daddy, I absolutely love it!" Mary declared, hugging Samuel tightly before pressing a big kiss to his cheek.  
  
"No problem, honey," Samuel replied and his grandfather had opened his mouth to say more when the old man caught sight of them.  
  
Confusion was the first thing to wash over Samuel's face, but it quickly shifted to understanding and Dean was stunned at how quickly and easily his grandfather let go of Mary and stepped away from her, leaving his mother to finish the rest of this particular scene on her own.  
  
"Hello, Samuel," Michael said for him and Dean transmitted his thanks across their bond.  
  
"Oh God, Dean, no!" Samuel exclaimed, dismay and disbelief warring for dominance on his face, both emotions swiftly overtaken by sheer horror. "Oh, no, no, please, no. You weren't supposed to die yet, not after what Death and the angels were able to do!"  
  
"No, Samuel, Dean's still alive, he's not dead," Michael hastened to correct.  
  
"Not dead?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Wait, you said 'Dean's not dead' as if he's not you. Michael?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"But, why?"  
  
"Only the dead can come to Heaven, just as you thought," Michael explained calmly. "An angel's vessel, however, can be brought up here with no ill effects. Dean wished to see you, so we did this. He can hear and see all that I do."  
  
"He wanted to see me? After what I did?"  
  
"Yes, Samuel. Dean forgives you, just like Bobby told you that he would."  
  
"Did he really say that? You're not just making that up to appease me, are you?"  
  
Michael snorted and Dean couldn't help but feel a sliver of pride at how human his influence had made the archangel. "Samuel, this is Mary's firstborn that we are talking about here. Do you honestly believe that he would allow me to get away with such a deception?"  
  
"No," Samuel laughed though it still sounded strained. "He'd find a way to kick your ass, vessel or not."  
  
"Precisely."  
  
The pride that Dean felt from his bond brother at that made him laugh himself. He was pretty sure that it was quite uncommon for a brother, whether by blood or by marriage, to feel like that when thinking of being trounced by their sibling. It was a good thing that he'd never either desired or aspired to be normal as he knew damn well that normality was the one thing that he'd never,  _ever_  have.  
  
" _Thanks, Mike,_ " Dean said. " _Now tell him to get off his sorry ass, stop moping about and go make up for his absence and behavior to Deanna instead._ "  
  
His grandfather's laughter this time was a little more genuine when Samuel heard what he'd said and Dean knew that it was the best that he could hope for at the moment. He of all people was only all too aware of the fact that things like this didn't just fade away, no matter how little control he'd had over the situation. He'd done what he could for now and the rest was up to Samuel, though he would make a point of it to visit his grandfather again whenever he ended up here himself.


	174. Chapter 173

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam gets a call from Becky who has some information for them, only there's something she wants in return.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
"Mm, you spoil me," Dean said when he entered the kitchen to find the room smelling heavenly.  
  
"That is not possible," Castiel replied, handing him a cup of his favorite coffee when he stepped closer to his husband.  
  
Dean merely smiled, taking a sip of pure nirvana while letting his angel take his weight. He was so focused on his coffee that it was a few moments before he realized that the ambrosia he was drinking wasn't the only delicious aroma in the room. Opening his eyes he looked towards the table only to meet the more than amused faces of Sam and Gwen. He ignored them and instead focused on what lay on the table in-between them. Waffles. Wonderful, golden brown, sinful waffles.  
  
"Those aren't American, are they?" Dean asked, already knowing the answer.  
  
"No, they are Belgian."  
  
"Belgian waffles?"  
  
"Belgian breakfast waffles."  
  
"There's a difference?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Dean laughed. "You went to pick up that beer I asked for didn't you?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
When he'd asked for it, Dean had intended for Castiel to get it if he happened to be passing through but he should have known better. Every time that he'd asked for something, his husband had gotten it for him as soon as his angel could. Good thing he wasn't prone to abusing that kind of behavior as he sincerely doubted that his husband would ever tell him no unless he was asking for something dangerous. He sent his thanks wordlessly over the bond, knowing it would express his gratitude far better than anything he could say.  
  
"These are delicious, Cas," Sam stated, snagging himself another one.  
  
"Now that's an understatement if I've ever heard one," Gwen said shaking her head before turning to look at Dean. "Your husband is going to make me fat."  
  
"That's what I said," Dean replied, reluctantly stepping out of Castiel's embrace to join the others at the table before they finished off all of the waffles. "We'll just have to step up our training regimen to compensate."  
  
Both Gwen and Sam groaned at that.  
  
"Dude, my bruises already have bruises," Sam complained.  
  
"He's been moving like an old man all morning," Gwen informed Dean gleefully.  
  
"Oh, like you're any better."  
  
"Actually I am. I'm sore, true, but it's nothing I can't handle."  
  
"Never said I couldn't."  
  
"No, your bitching said that."  
  
"Did not."  
  
"Did too."  
  
Dean couldn't help it, he laughed, drawing both of their attention and making them scowl at him in unison. "Now, now, children, play nice."  
  
Sam blinked, turning to Gwen. "How did we end up giving him the high ground?"  
  
The ringing of Sam's phone cut off Gwen's reply and Dean watched his brother frown as Sam pulled it out of his pocket. "Problem?"  
  
"No, I just don't recognize the number," Sam explained getting to his feet and moving away from the table. "Sam Winchester."  
  
With a shrug Dean turned his attention to more important things. Namely breakfast. Just as he'd hoped, it seemed that Castiel had kept some of the waffles back until his arrival as there were now more on the plate in the middle of the table than there had been before and he helped himself to two. He spared a quick glance at Gwen's before imitating her and spreading some butter and brown sugar over them. The first bite proved them to be every bit as delicious as they looked and he proceeded to stuff his face, ignoring the amusement that trickled across the bond as Castiel watched him do so.  
  
"Ah, crap, what's wrong?" Gwen questioned in resignation when Sam came back into the room.  
  
With a sinking feeling Dean twisted in his seat to look at his brother. What he saw allowed him to relax a little, for although Sam wore a bitch face, it was only number fourteen. That meant that his little brother was annoyed and put out but not angry or afraid. Whoever had called had given Sam bad news but not the panic and freak out now kind of bad news. Could it really be that they had just received the normal kind of bad news? It seemed like so long ago since that had last happened to them that he couldn't immediately think of when it had been precisely.  
  
Then Sam's eyes flickered to him and Dean wanted to curse. Of course this bad news would somehow pertain to him. He wanted to say that he had no luck, but he knew that wasn't true either, he knew that with every fibre of his very being as that was how much of himself that was now always aware of his husband and bond mate. Still, he did seem to draw in the bad disproportionately often, even for a hunter.  
  
"Well, at least I had my breakfast," Dean said wearily. "Alright, hit me with it."  
  
"That was Becky," Sam began.  
  
"Becky as in crazy ass fangirl Becky?"  
  
"The one and only."  
  
"Dude, how does she even have your number?"  
  
"I don't know, maybe she saved it that time she stole Chuck's phone to contact us about the convention."  
  
Dean shuddered at the reminder while Gwen laughed. He glared at her before returning his attention to his brother. "Okay, so what does she want?"  
  
"You and Cas, apparently," Sam replied dryly and with no little amusement.  
  
Even the fact that Dean knew this was merely payback for all of the times that he'd mercilessly teased his little brother about Becky's freaky obsession with him, he couldn't help but narrow his eyes at Sam. "Very funny."  
  
"No, seriously. She wants you and Cas to go to her. Oh, and she demands Michael's presence as well."  
  
"She demands?" Castiel repeated darkly.  
  
"Yeah, her words, not mine."  
  
"And why would we do this?" Dean asked.  
  
"Because apparently she has some information for us."  
  
"Information, what information?"  
  
Sam rolled his eyes. "She may be crazy but she's not stupid, Dean. All that she'd say was that it was something she'd noticed in the books that we'd want to know about just like the last time when she was able to tell us what had happened with the Colt. Only this time it has something to do with Michael and the two of you."  
  
Dean scowled and looked over at his husband. Castiel seemed pensive but not terribly perturbed, but then his angel had never had the misfortune of meeting Becky before and so didn't know what to expect. Well, he was sure that would change soon enough, especially if his brother hadn't been joking about her new... proclivities. Given the way that Becky had acted before with Sam, he had no doubt that she'd be just as touchy-feely with Castiel and he was kinda interested in seeing how his angel dealt with that. If it was anything like how his husband had reacted to Chastity then it would be more than worth the jealousy that he could already feel stirring in his gut at the mere thought of someone else feeling up his bond mate as Becky had Sam.  
  
"You think she's being straight with you?" Dean asked instead to distract himself from that thought.  
  
"Though she's tricked us in the past, she's never outright lied about having information for us," Sam replied. "Plus she knows you well enough to know how you'd react to being played like that."  
  
"She does  _not_  know me."  
  
"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about that. You do remember how obsessive she was about me before, right? All of that's focused on you now. Well, you and Cas."  
  
"Obsessive?" Castiel repeated just as Dean felt a stirring of something over their bond.  
  
It was dark and possessive and his mind couldn't help but flash back to two nights ago. Dean swallowed thickly at the memory and he shifted in his seat to try and hide the fact that he was hardening in his jeans. Now was so not the time for that, especially if they were going to have to visit a sex-crazed Becky. She already had her mind perpetually stuck in the gutter, there was absolutely no need to give her anything else with which to fuel her latest obsession, even if this time it was true. He made a mental note to strangle Chuck the next time he saw the prophet. He had warned the guy not to write and publish anymore books after all, so it would be Chuck's own fault really. If ever there was such a thing as a justified homicide, this would be it. He was sure that even the cops would agree if they'd ever had to put up with her or any other fangirl.  
  
Fangirls were crazy, crazy people. And scary in a way that frightened him more than any supernatural creature could.  
  
"She used to write stories about Sam and Dean and attend conventions dedicated to the books," Gwen explained. "And it only got worse once she realized that they were real."  
  
"Why?" Castiel asked.  
  
"Because she's a few fries short of a happy meal," Dean replied, smiling as his husband tugged at their bond to uncover what that meant rather than inquiring about it verbally. "I don't suppose that we can discover what she did just by reading the books?"  
  
"Do you even realize how many books there are?" Sam asked. "Well over a hundred by now, plus do you really want us to go out and buy the most recent ones and actually  _read_  them?"  
  
Dean pulled a face as he thought of that. "No, not really."  
  
"I thought not."  
  
"That would also only work if it was in one of the published ones," Gwen added. "You did say that the prophet spoke with her about things that aren't published yet, so what's to say that she doesn't see the early drafts of the new books as well?"  
  
"Alright, alright, we'll go visit her," Dean relented, shoulders drooping. "Cas, do you know if Mike's free at the moment?"  
  
"I have already spoken with him and he will meet us at the prophet's house as soon as he finishes what he is working on."  
  
"Good. Let's go then. Either of you two want to come along," Dean questioned looking at Sam and Gwen.  
  
"Hell no!" Sam exclaimed instantly.  
  
"What, jealous Sam?"  
  
"Very funny."  
  
"I think it has more to do with the fact that Becky slapped him the last time that he saw her," Gwen laughed.  
  
"She slapped you?" Dean repeated in disbelief.  
  
"Shut up," Sam shot back, glaring at Gwen. "Apparently she's quite protective of you right now."  
  
All of the humor left Dean instantly at those words and he scowled instead. "Great, that's just great."  
  
"Don't worry, I'll protect you," Castiel stated, amusement lighting up their bond.  
  
"Very funny, Feathers. Let's see how much you're laughing after you've actually met her and been molested by her. She's got even less of a sense of personal space than you ever did."  
  
"Somehow I doubt that," Gwen commented. "At least not when it comes to you anyway."  
  
"Bite me, Gwen."  
  
"That would not be particularly good for my health."  
  
"Come on, let's go, Cas, these two clowns can take care of the cleanup."  
  
"Hey!" Sam protested. "It's your turn."  
  
Dean had just enough time to send his brother a shit-eating grin before his husband brushed two fingers against his forehead and they were off. Although the flight was nowhere near like what it was like when he was with Michael, he did get some sensation of time whereas before it had always felt instantaneous. He frowned at the difference but it instantly fled his mind at the sudden squealing sound that erupted seconds after their arrival.  
  
"Dean!" Becky cried out, shoving her chair back and rushing at him.  
  
Before Dean had the time to react, Becky had him in a tight embrace and was attempting to bounce from foot to foot at the same time. The only good thing was that he could feel Castiel's previously neutral opinion of Becky changing already. He'd just decided to simply put up with it until she let him go when one of her hands reached down and grabbed his ass.  
  
"Whoa!" Dean exclaimed, breaking her hold and stepping back. "Hands!"  
  
"Aw, you're trying to be modest, how sweet," Becky singsonged before her eyes shifted to his husband. "Cas!"  
  
"Someone just shoot me now," Dean muttered under his breath before he turned to look at the two of them.  
  
As he'd expected, Castiel had a look on his face that was quite similar to the one that his angel had worn when confronted with Chastity. Only now it was far less innocent and far more perplexed and confused, his husband not at all understanding what was going on here. Well that made two of them as he'd never understood fangirls. Or fanboys for that matter. Just the mere thought of that  _convention_  was more than enough to make him shudder. Seriously, those people needed to get a life, namely their own life, so that they could leave his well enough alone, thank you very much. It was his dammit and it was fucked up enough already without having other people trying to mess about with it or dreaming up all kinds of sordid scenarios for it.  
  
"Wow, your eyes are even bluer than I'd imagined," Becky stated when she pulled back and looked closely at Castiel. "And you're even hotter than I thought you'd be. Not that Dean could ever end up with someone plain, but still."  
  
"Hello Rebecca," Castiel replied.  
  
For practically the first time ever, Dean saw Becky's face cloud over.  
  
"It's Becky," Becky declared firmly. "Only my mom calls me Rebecca and I like you far too much to want to think about her."  
  
"Your mother loves you a great deal, Rebecca, despite what you may think," Castiel stated.  
  
"No she doesn't, she thinks I'm weird."  
  
"No, she might not understand you, but she still loves you."  
  
Ha, let her take that! Dean was strangely pleased with the fact that Becky didn't look nearly so happy now as she had before. He'd never dealt well with people on a manic high and a more subdued fangirl would definitely be easier to deal with and hopefully be far less touchy-feely. He really should have known better, though, because as soon as he tried to steer the conversation to what they'd come here for by asking her what she had to tell them, her attention shifted back to him and her whole face lit up.  
  
"Is that the necklace? Of course it is, you'd never take something like that off," Becky gushed, rushing back towards him and reaching up to touch his birthday gift from Michael.  
  
Dean reacted instinctively, grabbing her wrist before she could reach her prize. "Don't," he warned. "That's personal."  
  
"I knew it! I so totally  _knew_  it! Oh my God, the others are never going to believe me, but they'll see. Of course they'll just  _have_  to see when the books catch up with it!" Becky squealed all but vibrating in place.  
  
"Knew what?" Dean demanded with a sinking feeling.  
  
"I'm still trying to decide on what the best name for it would be though," Becky continued, her face a mixture of consternation and determination. "It's not every day that I get to coin a slash pairing name."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Well yeah, like Destiel. You know, Dean and Castiel, so Destiel. Now for this I'm thinking Midestiel or Desmiel or perhaps Demitiel."  
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
"Of course, we have to have a catchy name for it, or how else will people refer to the three of you quickly and easily? I'm thinking either Desmiel or Demitiel, what do you think?"  
  
"You think we are in a sexual relationship with Michael," Castiel stated.  
  
"Well, duh, I'm not blind. I mean, seriously, the UST between the three of you, but especially with Dean and Michael, it's like whoa!"  
  
Dean blanched when he realized that she was actually being serious. "Dude, Mike's my friend and Cas'  _brother_."  
  
As soon as he'd said the words, Dean knew that they'd be useless. Not only was he speaking the fangirl who'd spent the first few years of her involvement in the  _Supernatural_  fandom writing slash between himself and Sam, but the very fact that bonding even existed was because among angels that familial relationship didn't preclude a deeper emotional one. But Cas, him and Michael? Where the hell had she gotten that from? Yeah, sure he'd grown really close to his bond brother, but was that honestly all that it took? Or was it all of the symbolism of his bond brother taking him whenever he acted as Michael's vessel?  
  
There had to be something seriously wrong with him if he was able to kinda see how Becky had made that leap. Seriously wrong.  
  
"You and Cas were only friends in the beginning," Becky pointed out, her eyes gleaming in a way that made Dean highly uncomfortable. "And look at how that turned out. Oh! Can I see your wings, Cas? Please, pretty please?"  
  
"Doing so would burn your eyes out, Rebecca," Castiel replied bluntly.  
  
"No, not in their true form, silly, I mean the shadows. Like how you showed Dean that first time in the barn."  
  
"No," Dean denied firmly, stepping between the two of them. "That's private too."  
  
Instead of getting upset or angry, Becky's attention merely shifted to him and Dean couldn't help but wonder if she was on something. Surely this couldn't be natural, no one was this perky or energetic without some kind of chemical influence. Were they?  
  
"Ooo! You're just so adorable! I can't believe that I never saw it before, but you're a hopeless romantic at heart, aren't you?"  
  
Dean could only stare at her speechless as Becky stepped close and suddenly her hands were on his chest, feeling him up. Every single joke or comment that he'd made at his brother's expense about Becky and her behavior the first time that they'd met her ran through his mind just then and he regretted each and every one of them. Not that he'd ever admit that to Sam that of course.  
  
"Cease touching Dean," Castiel ordered, voice low.  
  
"No," Becky giggled. "He's firm, more so than Sam was," she continued, looking up at his face from far closer than Dean felt comfortable with but he was a bit at a loss as to what to do with her given that she had no compunctions just feeling people up. "I really don't get why I didn't see it before. You're gorgeous and snarky and vulnerable all at once, not to mention loyal as hell. Plus you got a great body and- oh my God, can I see the mark?"  
  
Even as she said it, Becky was reaching for his shoulder. Before she got there though, Castiel was suddenly beside Dean and the next thing he knew, Becky had been forcefully shoved back onto the sofa. She went down with a cry of surprise and then lay there looking up at them with wide eyes. Jealousy and possessiveness poured over their bond and he could tell from the way Castiel held his wings that his husband'd had more than enough.  
  
"You will not touch my bond mate again," Castiel commanded, voice steel.  
  
Becky, however, was already losing the wide-eyed look and her expression was slowly morphing into something else that made Dean want to groan. Of course she'd make this sexual. Fangirls, he swore that their minds just perpetually lived in the gutter.  
  
"That's really hot!" Becky stated as she fanned herself with a hand, proving his point. "I never really got it before, but wow, I totally do now! If you feel the need to claim your bon- Wait,  _bond mate_? That's not just a nickname is it? That's something more! Oh my God! Oh my God!"  
  
Dean could feel a headache forming at all of the loud squealing and the way his husband's wings were twitching indicated that he wasn't the only one who'd had enough. "Becky?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Don't blaspheme."  
  
"What? Oh. OH. Sorry!"  
  
"Just don't do it again. Now, you told Sam that you had something for us?"  
  
"Well, it's more for Michael really. Have you bonded with him too? I mean beyond the whole vessel thing. Which, by the way, is totally hot too!"  
  
"Becky!"  
  
"Don't pretend that you don't know what I'm talking about. So what was this bonding? How did it happen? Was there steamy sex?"  
  
"Dean does not wish to discuss it and neither do I," Castiel stated. "And Michael will be here soon."  
  
Almost as if the uttering of his name had summoned his bond brother, Michael appeared beside Dean and Castiel a moment later. Becky's eyes went wide and she jumped at the sudden arrival but then her face fell as she really looked at him. The new expression was instantly familiar to him as it was the exact same one that she'd given him before, the first time that they'd met. Michael, clearly, wasn't what she'd expected him to be and he couldn't help but feel an echo of his old indignation at that for his bond brother. Who was she to pass judgment over them anyway?  
  
"You're not what I was expecting," Becky stated, still looking at Michael. "But that's okay, I was always more of a twosome threesome fan anyway rather than the threesome threesome fan."  
  
"Okay, what?" Dean demanded before his brain caught up with his mouth. "No, wait, on second thought, I  _really_  don't want to know."  
  
"Twosome threesome is you, Mike and Cas while Mike's in you. So it's a threesome with only two bodies. The threesome threesome has Mike in his usual vessel."  
  
Dean groaned as his mind automatically supplied him with images of both scenarios and he immediately wished that he could blot them from of his mental eye forever. He really hadn't needed those particular illustrations for Becky's latest perverted fantasies.  
  
"I do not understand, what is she talking about?" Michael asked.  
  
"You don't want to know," Dean replied. "It's a fan fiction thing."  
  
"Fan fiction?"  
  
"Stories written by fans of Chuck's books," Becky explained helpfully. "Like mine. They include you."  
  
" _Don't ask, please don't ask!_ " Dean begged both of his archangels silently. " _Please!_ "  
  
"Michael is here now, what information did you have for us?" Castiel questioned even as some of his husband's wings came to curl possessively around him, drawing Dean closer.  
  
"Right, it's here," Becky said, scrambling through a disorganized pile of papers scattered around her computer. "It's one of Chuck's drafts for his next book. Anyway, I was reading it and it referred to Michael and the whole power decay thing and how much it's starting to affect his current vessel."  
  
The words made Dean's head whip around to look at his bond brother and Michael glanced over at him guiltily.  
  
"It is starting to become more of a problem," Michael agreed.  
  
"Mm, I know," Becky stated. "But that's not what caught my eye, it's what came next. Now where is it? Ah, here it is. Right, let me see. Yes, here it is. So it was talking about the power decay and then it said, and I quote: without the power of the prophet's presence, it would continue to spread until it rendered the vessel useless and a new one would be required."  
  
"Without the power of the prophet's presence," Castiel repeated slowly. "What does that mean?"  
  
"Well I did some research into the matter and it seems like prophets of God contain enough of His presence through their gift to remain healthy and bestow some of that health onto others."  
  
"Wait, you're saying that Chuck might be able to halt the spread of Michael's power decay?" Castiel inquired.  
  
"Exactly. Which, now that I think about it makes the twosome threesome even more appealing because power decay just sounds nasty and totally not sexy."  
  
"Mike, you ever heard of this before?" Dean asked, ignoring Becky's last comment.  
  
"Not in this context, but it is known that prophets tend to remain healthy and strong despite often resorting to unhealthy habits to help them bear their burden," Michael responded. "It would not hurt to try. Where is he?"  
  
"Chuck would rather not say," Becky said. "But my research indicated that it doesn't have to be his actual presence, any part of him will do."  
  
"Any part of him?" Dean repeated, not at all liking the sound of that.  
  
"Yeah, like his nail clippings would apparently be enough though that would be totally gross and disgusting. Luckily for you, Mike, I still have a lock of his hair. He grew it out for a while before deciding that he really didn't like it long so he cropped it off once more."  
  
"My name is Michael, only Dean may call me Mike."  
  
"Aw, of course he can," Becky cooed.  
  
Dean's fists clenched as he resisted the urge to walk over to the wall and bang his head against it. Violence was not the answer here and any denial on their part would just further fuel her delusions. It was best just to get the lock of hair and get out as fast as possible and never, ever return.  
  
 _Ever_.  
  



	175. Chapter 174

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hunt doesn't go as expected, but in a good way for once.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
Dean resisted the temptation to start shifting restlessly as he waited, crouched behind a red outcropping of rock. Why had he gotten stuck with the job of blocking this exit route? How come he hadn't been able to take Sam or Bobby's place herding the damned ra-ra into the trap? Just because they'd done more of the reading on this particular creature than him didn't mean that he couldn't herd it. He was good at herding, all it took was looking badass enough to convince the thing that it was better off running away than attacking him.  
  
"I can be threatening without being provocative," Dean muttered under his breath. "Just because I'm good at that doesn't mean I can't not do it. It's not my fault that I've got a knack for it. Sam's just jealous that he can't get under people's skin that easily."  
  
Even as he said it, Dean knew that it wasn't true. His little brother would never see the point of getting under anyone's skin unless it was a creature and even then Sam would infinitely prefer to go a less confrontational route or just be outright rude if it came down to that. His brother simply didn't see the point in being more subtle about it or dragging it out. He just sometimes wished that Sam would see it for the difference in communications styles that it was and not as a character flaw that needed rectifying. He simply couldn't pull off his brother's puppy dog routine and never had, not even as a child. After having seen what had happened to his mom and then being trained by his father to help protect Sammy, he'd just never had that innocence long enough to learn how to fake it.  
  
Pretty much what it had come down to was that when people looked at Sam they'd seen a lost little boy who'd never had a mother and desperately needed one. Women had used to flock to his little brother in a way that Dean had always envied, wanting nothing more than to spoil Sam and mother him. When they'd looked at him, though, all they'd seen had been the mask that he'd constructed to keep the pain locked up deep inside of him just so that he could get through the day. Add to that the fact that he still remembered his mother and had no intention of letting anyone else try to take her place and the result hadn't been good. The women had seen all of that and interpreted it as trouble, as someone to be wary of lest he try and steal their money or mess up their precious things. It had hurt but he just hadn't known how to bring down that mask and allow himself to be open and vulnerable again like he'd been with his mother.  
  
Later on Dean had learned to channel this impression into something useful and then he'd eventually learned that while women were instinctually afraid or wary of that attitude in a little boy, they were secretly thrilled to have it in a lover. So, yeah, he simply  _couldn't_  pull Sam's routine of ingratiating himself with normal adults, but that didn't mean that his own methods were wrong. They were just different and sometimes his brother's way of communicating with people would work better and sometimes his own would. He didn't see why that was so hard to grasp or why Sam had to keep insisting that the ones he got on with better weren't normal. Just because some people weren't like the majority of the population didn't make them worth any less or meant that their ideas and opinions weren't valuable. No, it just made them different which was a good thing as far as he was concerned.  
  
Dean had spent more than enough time calling his own bullshit recently to know that he was allowing himself to wallow, but he felt like it just now dammit.  
  
It wasn't conducive to good hunting though so Dean tried to shove it aside, though he made a note to deal with it later, knowing that otherwise it would come back to bite him in the ass. Besides, now was a good time to deal with this shit as he and Sam were already off balance as it was. Might as well get it all out of the way with at once so that they both knew where they stood with each other. But the hunt came first.  
  
A quick peek around his cover showed Dean that neither the ra-ra nor the others were coming his way just yet so he shifted position slightly, trying to get as comfortable as he could be given that it was November in Utah. At least he got to visit Bryce Canyon again, he'd always liked it since the first time that they'd passed through here on a hunt with their father more years ago now than he cared to remember. The ra-ra had been preying on tourists and the pattern had been picked up by a hunter that Bobby knew. The man had come down with a partner, who thought they that knew what they were getting themselves into and then promptly discovered that they didn't. The partner had died, becoming the ra-ra's most recent victims while Bobby's friend had landed in the hospital with a broken leg. Gwen was still there with him just in case the creature chose to go finish him off instead of returning to its usual hunting grounds.  
  
The memory of his cousin's indignation reminded Dean that he could have pulled a worse assignment, but there had been no choice in the matter. The night shift nurse had taken a shine to Gwen and that had been the end of that. Though he was more than happy to flirt his ass off for a case and knew that Castiel would not begrudge him it for a case, all of that was useless if the target was a firmly heterosexual man. So, Gwen it had been if they wanted someone there past the end of visiting hours. He just wished that the rest of the job could be as easily taken care of as that. Unfortunately it seemed that their good luck had run out there. Their creature was some Russian peasant folklore beastie whose full name he couldn't even remember much less pronounce so he'd dubbed it the ra-ra and ignored Bobby's exasperated look.  
  
Then, on top of that, it turned out that there wasn't a single illustration of the damn thing in any reference book that they could find. Hell, apparently it wasn't even considered a 'true' Russian mythical creature as there were only the vaguest of references to it which the so-called experts wrote off as nothing but rumors or lies. Whose lies he wasn't entirely sure, but then he hadn't quite cared to hear his brother's explanation either. All he wanted to know was what it was, what it looked like, what it could do and how to kill it. Apparently all they knew was the answer to the first one. Upon coming up empty themselves, Bobby's friend and his partner had decided that instead of killing it, they'd simply re-imprison the damn thing into the crystal from which it had escaped during some new special cleaning process that the museum that had owned the crystal had performed.  
  
Who knew? Buff the shiny rock with Pledge and poof! Instant creature surprise.  
  
Altogether, Dean infinitely preferred when the surprise was candy. Or chocolate, chocolate was more than good as well.  
  
To make matters even worse, Bobby's friend had told them that when he and his partner had finally tracked the damn thing down that they'd quickly figured out exactly why there were no illustrations of it. Apparently the damn thing wasn't corporeal or at least didn't look it and was instead some kind of freaky mix between a spirit and a monster as its claws or whatever had clearly been able to do serious damage as attested to by the state of the poor guy's partner. The corpse had been thoroughly mutilated, though the not being able to see the ra-ra bit had Dean the most nervous truth be told. Sure, his father had taught him how to fight blind but that didn't mean that he was as good at it as when he could see or that he had to like it. The issue became academic when he heard what was to him a clearly inhuman roar of anger. Looked like it was show time.  
  
Dean tensed as he could feel adrenaline flood his system as his body geared up for one hell of a fight. Bobby's friend had told them that the ra-ra had been docile enough, letting them herd it towards the trap, right up until the moment that it had noticed that its options were to either fight or to step into the crystal's power radius at which point it would be sucked back into its beautiful prison. So, basically, shit shouldn't hit the fan until he stepped out from behind his cover and the ra-ra realized that it had no way out. He could only hope that it chose to attack him rather than Sam or Bobby. It should, though, as on his own he would appear to be the lesser threat.  
  
Another roar echoing off the canyon walls told Dean that the ra-ra was closer but not yet close enough to have rounded the bend just before the canyon split in two. He used the opportunity to peak from behind his cover again, just to make sure that the crystal was still in place. It was exactly where he'd left it and he chided himself for his nerves. It wasn't like he hadn't faced plenty of foes that other hunters might hesitate at. So why did this particular one put him on edge? He didn't know and he tried to shove it aside.  
  
The next roar was followed by the sounds of movement and Dean waited for the sound of two more sets of footsteps to reach him before stepping out into view. His first impression of the ra-ra was of a haze of color and motion that made him squeeze his eyes shut before he'd consciously thought of it. When he did, he snapped his eyes open again, bracing himself for an attack. The ra-ra hadn't chosen to take advantage of his moment of inattention though and instead stood frozen in place, regarding him with caution and no little confusion.  
  
Vaguely Dean was aware of the edges of the creature shifting and changing as they had when he'd first laid eyes on it, but all of his attention was focused on the ra-ra's hideous appearance. It looked strangely familiar but he couldn't quite place where he'd seen something like it before or even when, just that he had. Sam and Bobby's arrival around the bend snapped the both of them from their contemplation of each other and the ra-ra took a cautious step forward towards him, sniffing the air with its ruined nose as it did so.  
  
Though confused, Dean took a step forwards, preparing himself to either attack or spring aside, depending on what the ra-ra did. What happened next was the absolute last thing that he'd expected or could ever have predicted. The ra-ra tensed at his approach as expected, but instead of rushing towards him in a sudden frenzied attack as Bobby's friend had described happening with them, the creature pulled back with a wail. It shifted its position slightly, glancing towards Sam and Bobby but he moved with it, not about to let the ra-ra attack them. Sensing weakness, he moved in and contrary to all expectations, the damn thing turned around and fled, voluntarily running straight for the crystal, screaming loudly.  
  
"What the hell?" Dean demanded, dumbfounded, when the sudden flare of light from the crystal faded and the ra-ra was gone, trapped within its depths once more.  
  
"What did you do?" Sam questioned, staring at him in shock.  
  
"Nothing!"  
  
"That didn't look like nothing to me," Bobby stated.  
  
"Yeah well it's true. You pretty much saw it all. The only thing you missed was me coming out from behind my cover and blinking to get a better look at it."  
  
"You say that as if you could see it."  
  
"Not at first, no, but after that initial daze, yeah, sure."  
  
"Dean, we couldn't get a visual lock on it. It was just blur of light and movement to us," Sam informed him quietly, voice grave.  
  
"What? Then why could I see it?"  
  
"You don't have a clue?" Bobby asked.  
  
"No!"  
  
"You said that you blinked?"  
  
"Yeah, just for a moment. It was like when you wake up and you're looking at a blank white wall, you know, when you can't quite judge how far away it is until you reach out and touch it? And then it just kinda snaps into place visually? It was just like that, only I blinked instead of reaching out towards it."  
  
"I've never heard of anything like that happening to a hunter before. You either just see it or you don't unless something changes significantly."  
  
Bobby didn't need to elaborate on that any further as Dean could quite easily remember how different everything had been when he and Sam had taken a walk on the wild side by going astral the other year.  
  
"And even if you had, I doubt it would explain why it just turned and fled like that," Sam said. "I mean it voluntarily chose to lock itself back up in the crystal that had imprisoned it for millennia rather than face Dean. There's got to be more to that."  
  
"Dude," Dean mock protested, turning to face his little brother. "I'm just that badass and he knew it."  
  
"Yes, Dean, I'm sure the ancient warrior monster was totally cowed by your infantile presence."  
  
"Hey! You're infantile."  
  
"Compared to it you are nothing but a babe, ya idjit," Bobby snorted. "There's something we're missing here."  
  
"Not an infant," Dean muttered under his breath before raising his voice. "And who said the ra-ra couldn't just tell skill when he saw it?"  
  
"The ra-ra, Dean?" Sam questioned in disbelief and exasperation. "Really?"  
  
"Bite me, Bitch."  
  
"Jerk."  
  
"I'd say Heaven help me, but I doubt even they could," Bobby sighed wearily.  
  
"Hey!"  
  
"Oh shut up, ya idjits. You made your beds, now lie in 'em."  
  


* * *

  
Dean was still laughing when he came out of the shower at the Campbell place and walked through to the bedroom. He could honestly admit that he'd never seen what happened coming, it was definitely one for the books. They still had no clue why the thing had acted the way that it had, but he was endlessly amused by it nonetheless. He knew that he was badass, but even he didn't really think that he was badass enough to get that kind of reaction. Especially not on sight or considering the fact that the last time the creature had gotten trapped in the crystal, it hadn't gotten out for several millennia. Regardless, he'd take what he could get and use it to his fullest advantage. After all, it wasn't like either Bobby or Sam could claim that anything like this had ever happened to them, or at least not with something that was supposed to be extremely dangerous and deadly.  
  
Still chuckling, Dean dropped his towel and started to pull on some clean clothes. The hunt had been a nice change of pace, but it was back to the books now, though at least there would be a few of them in the library so it wouldn't feel as lonely as it had when none of his archangels had been around to help him before. Plus it was always good to bounce ideas off of other humans as they were more apt to come up with unconventional or off the wall ideas. Angels in general tended to lack creativity, though not for lack of trying. Castiel in particular was getting better at thinking outside the box.  
  
The flutter of wings had Dean looking up from his duffel, a smile of greeting already on his face before he realized that the young Hispanic man was not an angel that he'd ever seen before.  
  
"Dean Winchester," the angel said, looking him over.  
  
"Who are you?" Dean demanded, right hand slipping into the pocket that he'd just put the Jewel of Abel into.  
  
"Do not be afraid, I am on your side, Righteous Man."  
  
The angel approached him as he said it and Dean pulled his hand from his pocket as soon as the Jewel of Abel was securely wrapped around his wrist. He brought it up to bare and concentrated on it just enough to make the Jewel glow with power.  
  
"You'll have to excuse me if I don't just take your word for it," Dean stated, shifting his weight so he'd be more stable if he needed to use the Jewel. "So how about a name to start with and we go from there, huh?"  
  
The angel grinned. "You have fire in you, I can see why Father likes you so much and why you drove Zachariah nuts."  
  
The mention of the angel he'd killed made Dean tense and he channelled more power to the Jewel even as the angel stepped closer still so that he was almost touching the angel's chest with his fingers.  
  
"Who do you think I am?" the angel continued, twitching his wings.  
  
Dean's eyes were automatically drawn to the movement and he snapped them back as soon as he realized that he'd done it. Then he got the significance of what he'd seen and he glanced back in shock.  
  
Nine pairs of wings.  _Nine_. But that meant-  
  
 _Archangel_.  
  
" _Mike!_ " Dean sent instantly. " _Cas!_ "  
  
He also took a few steps back. While Dean had no problem going face to face with Lucifer he wasn't stupid enough to confront an archangel alone when he had backup instantly available to him. Besides he didn't quite know where this one stood and any hesitation on his part could prove to be fatal.  
  
"Raziel," Dean finally replied.


	176. Chapter 175

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean, Michael and Castiel confront the long-lost archangel Raziel.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
Raziel was the only option. Dean already knew what five of the eight archangels looked like and of the original remaining two one was dead. Well there was always the possibility that one of them had gotten a new vessel, but it was highly unlikely given the way the archangel was acting. It wasn't nearly familiar enough for it to be Raphael and not even close to malicious enough for it to be either Lucifer or Simiel.  
  
"Yep. Got it in one," Raziel confirmed with a large smile.  
  
The unangelic behavior and language made Dean frown. He'd met plenty of angels and only a grand total of two of the lot had been this human, namely Anna and Gabriel and that was because both of them had spent significant amounts of time on Earth. What had Raziel been doing spending time down here when his brothers and sisters had all but torn Heaven and Earth apart?  
  
Michael and Castiel suddenly appeared on either side of Dean with their blades already drawn and then proceeded to stare in shock at their brother. The lack of an instant attack on their part calmed him a little, though he didn't lower the Jewel of Abel even if he did tune down the amount of power that he was channelling into it.  
  
"Michael," Raziel greeted warmly before turning to look at his other sibling. "And Castiel, I have heard much about you, Little Brother."  
  
"And I you," Castiel replied, lowering his sword slightly.  
  
"Yes, most of it about my mysterious disappearance and unexplained absence no doubt."  
  
"Yeah, about that," Dean began. "What, you felt like a little extended Earthbound vacation?"  
  
"You have been on Earth?" Michael demanded, voice thick with emotion for once. "What, like Gabriel?"  
  
At first Dean was confused by his bond brother's unusual behavior, but then it hit him all at once and he winced in sympathy. Gabriel, for all that he'd come through for them in the end, had essentially ditched his family and run. While it might well be true that Gabriel couldn't have done anything about the situation, there was no real way that he could condone what the archangel had done even if he could sympathize with what it felt like to watch your own family tear each other apart all of the time. Still, it had never even occurred to him to just walk out on his father and brother, no matter how bad it had gotten. Even when Dad had all but kicked Sam out forever, he hadn't been able to turn his back on the man as he'd loved him far too much.  
  
So, yeah, Dean could totally understand why Michael would be more than a little hurt at the revelation that another one of his brothers might have acted the way that Gabriel had. On some level he felt the need to take back every last bad thing that he'd said about his own family, they were the perfect picture of harmony in comparison to his new extended family.  
  
"No," Raziel denied sharply, taking a step forwards, his entire attention focused on Michael. "No, Brother. It was not like Gabriel, but I have been on Earth for a significant portion of the time that I have been gone."  
  
"Doing what, exactly?" Dean questioned, knowing how hard it would be for his friend to think just now.  
  
The little smile that curved Raziel's lips upwards didn't reassure Dean and it was with reluctance that he lowered the Jewel of Abel and allowed it to fully power down. Given that both Michael and Castiel had not only lowered their blades, but vanished them back to wherever they normally kept them left him with little choice though. Besides, who was he to disagree with their judgment here and now given that this was one of their brothers? Well, Raziel was another brother-in-law of his own, true, but he'd never met the guy before and he couldn't say that he'd heard anything bad about him either.  
  
"Various things," Raziel replied vaguely. "Tell me, Dean, what do you know about me? From human sources?"  
  
Dean frowned before realization dawned and his eyes opened wide. "Son of a bitch!"  
  
"Dean?" Castiel questioned, stepping closer to him.  
  
"You mean that they're right?  _That's_  the truth?"  
  
"This is one of only a limited number of cases where parts of human knowledge and legend about us are more accurate than Heaven's own knowledge," Raziel confirmed.  
  
"What is it, Little One? What do you know?" Michael inquired urgently.  
  
"Well, leaving aside all of the fictional stuff, in the Jewish tradition Raziel's supposed to be known as the Keeper of Secrets or the Angel of Mysteries, things like that. I also read something about him and the secrets of God and knowing them because he is supposed to be positioned close to your Father's throne. or something like that anyway. I don't quite remember all of the details as I looked it up a while back."  
  
The silence after his revelation was deathly and Dean couldn't even imagine how his husband and bond brother felt about this. Though he was worried about the both of them, it was Castiel in particular that he was concerned about. His angel had spent more time than he cared to think about looking for his Father, a quest that had only ended when God had told them to leave Him alone. As if that wasn't bad enough on its own, his husband now had to learn that instead of completely abandoning all of his children, the Bastard might actually have kept in contact with one of them. That type of favoritism, especially when combined with the neglect and outright abandonment of all the others, had to hurt like a bitch.  
  
"You were with Father?" Michael finally asked. "All of this time?"  
  
"No, though we have spent time together since His departure from Heaven, I have not been with Him for the entirety of my absence," Raziel replied. "In fact there have been large spans of time where I have not seen Him. And before you ask, I have not seen Him recently."  
  
Part of Dean was tempted to ask what recently meant, but he'd been around angels long enough to know that it would hardly equate with his idea of recent. If anything it would fall squarely under his concept of ancient, but that was actually a good thing. Because if God had pulled that kind of stunt then he didn't care if the Guy had created everything that he knew, he'd have clocked Him one even if it broke every single bone in his body and then some. He wisely decided to keep that particular thought to himself.  
  
"So what was this task that He gave you?" Dean questioned.  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"God gave you a task, didn't he? That's what your brothers and sisters seem to think anyway."  
  
"Yes," Castiel confirmed. "That is what we were told."  
  
"Father gave me many tasks to perform while away," Raziel responded. "The first, though, did take me a long time to complete as it consisted of many different, smaller tasks."  
  
"The library. You were the one who removed the prophecy books and all of that others."  
  
"Yes."  
  
The single word had the same effect as a bombshell. The betrayal that poured off of Michael was so strong and all-consuming that Dean could practically  _feel_  it though the archangel was safely tucked away in his aunt Deirdre instead of alongside himself in his meatsuit. Castiel as well flinched even though his husband had been the one to put the pieces together. Now that it had been said, he couldn't understand why he hadn't seen it before himself, it just seemed so unbelievably  _obvious_  now.  _Of course_  Raziel had taken those books, and probably returned the ones that Belliel had found later on, after the events prophesized within had already transpired. It just seemed like too much of a risk to have left them in the wrong place deliberately instead of simply returning them once it was safe, there was just too much chance that someone would have found them and returned them to their rightful place in-between, especially considering the time span that they were talking about here.  
  
It still made Dean's head hurt just to try and think about. That was why he generally didn't even try anymore. Simply the thought of how unbelievably  _ancient_  his husband truly was being far too much for him. Forget about cradle robbing, this was in an altogether different category and one that he was on the wrong end of too. Not that he'd have felt particularly comfortable being on the other end of it either.  
  
"But,  _why_?" Michael demanded, anguish in every line of his body.  
  
"I am not at liberty to say," Raziel replied apologetically.  
  
Those words themselves, as well as their effect on his friend, infuriated Dean and his first instinct was to tear Raziel a new one. This was that incomprehensible angelic blind obedience and devotion thing again which he'd fought tooth and nail against for so long. It was everything that he'd hated about angels before and what he'd been unable to stand about Michael, Raphael and yes, even Castiel, at first and only its departure was what had allowed their relationships to shift and change into what they were today.  
  
So, yeah, by all rights Dean should be going right off at Raziel, taking him apart with words as he crowded close to the newest acquaintance of his unimaginably large extended family so that he could physically poke the archangel in the chest and perhaps even give him a zap from the Jewel of Abel. Instead he found himself frozen on that wave of anger, completely unable to follow through on any of it. At first he wasn't sure what it was that was holding him back as it definitely wasn't anything either physical or supernatural, but then it hit him and took the wind right out of his sails.  
  
Despite the strong way that Raziel came across, there was something unbelievably fragile and vulnerable about the archangel. That realization had puzzled Dean for about a half second before something that Castiel had once told him came back to him. Raziel had been bonded himself once and to the only other of the original seven archangels that he had never met, namely Jophiel.  
  
Jophiel who had been killed by Lucifer during the Rebellion.  
  
Dean had a brief flash of nightmare memory that he'd somehow gotten from Michael during one of their joinings and he swallowed hard around the sudden lump in his throat. He didn't care how long ago the Rebellion had been, he totally got the fragility and vulnerability that he detected in Raziel now and he suddenly saw God's decision to keep this particular angel close by in a whole new light. He'd personally only experienced the sudden, brutal loss of his bond with Castiel for a short time- somewhere in the order of ten minutes or so from what he'd later been told by Sam- but it had been more than enough to haunt him for the rest of his existence and that had been without the added knowledge that his husband was also not only dead, but lost to him forever. For Raziel to have lived through the same thing, but without those two stipulations, was not only unimaginable to him, but horrifying as well.  
  
Dean honestly couldn't comprehend how the archangel had survived that kind of loss. He sure as hell wouldn't have, that was for damn sure. Hell, he hadn't even been able to stand the loss of his brother without doing something so recklessly stupid as to start the freaking Apocalypse, what would the loss of his bond mate have done to him? He didn't even want to consider the mere possibility, let alone have to live with the reality of it for countless millennia.  
  
Altogether, though, it suddenly made Raziel's blind faith in God a lot more understandable. Sure, he'd personally have turned around and blamed the goddamn Bastard for what had happened, given that He was supposed to be all knowing and all, but if he made allowances for the differences in how he and Raziel would have viewed God to begin with, then it all suddenly fell into place. The archangel had just lost the one thing that had most probably meant more to him than anything else in existence, he could see why Raziel had turned around and clung to the other major relationship that the archangel had. If anything for him, though, it just made him all the more angry at God. The Douche had chosen to resurrect Castiel not once, but twice, so why the hell hadn't He been able to do the same for a daughter who had showed such bravery and selflessness as to oppose Lucifer when she knew that she couldn't win and all just to protect her less powerful siblings? Why hadn't He done it for Jophiel and her actions, while also knowing what it would mean to Raziel?  
  
Yeah, that totally didn't improve his opinion of The Man. Not at all.  
  
"Then what can you say?" Dean finally demanded instead.  
  
"Two things. First that you do not need to worry about your brother and his resurrection," Raziel responded with a slight frown. "Father seemed to think that there might be some concern over this."  
  
"Did Father resurrect him?" Castiel inquired, surprised.  
  
"No, I am the one who pulled him from the cage."  
  
"You?" Dean demanded. "Why?"  
  
"Because I was told to; that it was necessary."  
  
"Thanks for that."  
  
"You're welcome."  
  
"What about Adam, did you pull him out as well and return his soul to Heaven?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"What was the other thing that you could tell us, Brother?" Michael asked.  
  
"That the Apocalypse will be over soon," Raziel replied evenly.  
  
"And let me guess, you can't tell us who'll win, right? Or any other pertinent details?" Dean demanded, his previous frustration back instantly.  
  
"There's nothing to tell because I simply don't know."  
  
Dean's eyebrows rose in surprise. "You don't know?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
Raziel shrugged easily, once more clearly displaying the time that he'd spent on Earth. "Father didn't say."  
  
"And, let me guess, it didn't occur to you to ask."  
  
"Not at the time, no."  
  
"Not at the time?" Castiel inquired, head tilting to one side as he regarded his brother.  
  
Raziel smiled. "I hadn't yet spent as much time on Earth among modern humans back then. Now I believe that I would have thought of it and possibly even asked."  
  
Well, now that really was interesting and Dean found his opinion of the archangel changing once more, even if it still irked him that Raziel obviously still clung to his old beliefs enough to not tell them what he'd been ordered to keep quiet. He'd just have to work on that, though, and see if he couldn't change his newest bond brother's mind on the matter. He was good at that after all when it came to angels. He would have to tread carefully, though, what with the fine line that Raziel seemed to already be walking when it came to the archangel's sanity. He didn't want to break him after all.  
  
And speaking of breaking, it hadn't escaped Dean's notice how those last few revelations had affected Michael. His friend who'd never even stopped to question his Father or The Plan, was clearly shaken to his very core that Raziel had come to that kind of a decision on his own without requiring the extremely harsh lesson that God had been forced to provide his first created angel with. Just like with the bond situation with Raziel, he could more than understand Michael's current reaction as well. He himself had been like that once. The ever obedient eldest son, following his father with a blind kind of obedience and devotion that he could hardly even comprehend anymore. He'd just been luckier when all was said and done to not have to face the kind of lesson that Michael had at the end of it. Not that he'd seen it that way at the time.  
  
Dean snorted at the thought before returning his attention back to the matter at hand. "So why are you here now?" Dean asked.  
  
"I was told that I could return to my brothers and sisters today," Raziel explained simply.  
  
"Why today?" Castiel asked.  
  
"I do not know."  
  
The desire to roll his eyes was great, but Dean suppressed it as this particular angel might actually know what that meant. "Okay, Clueless, why did you come to me then? I'm not one of your siblings, not really."  
  
"You are a bond brother and thus family," Raziel replied before shrugging. "And you intrigued me. I've heard so much about you and wanted to meet you for myself."  
  
"Heard so much about me? I thought that you were off on your lonesome for most of the time."  
  
"Being away from my brothers and sisters isn't the same as being away from people. Besides, Father has spoken a great deal about you as well."  
  
"He has?" Michael questioned. "What has He said?"  
  
"No, I don't want to know!" Dean spat vehemently.  
  
Not only was he always far too likely to say something that he'd regret (at least for the effect that it would have on his husband and friends) whenever God came up, but Dean also really didn't want to contemplate what the Douche might have to say about him. Besides, the more that God knew about him and what he'd been up to, the more that He had chosen not to prevent or interfere with and if anything was a sure fire way to set him off, then it was that. This entire mess could so easily have been prevented if God would have just manned up and dealt with the catastrophe that His children had caused. And He'd have been able to do so long before it had spilt over onto Earth and started claiming innocent human lives. Hell, there'd never even have been a Hell or demons to populate it and be created within its fiery depths if God had done so early enough.  
  
So, yeah, God? Not a good topic for discussion. Not with him around anyway.  
  
Raziel smiled at his reaction though and Dean narrowed his eyes at the archangel, not at all sure that he'd like what his newest bond brother would have to say next.  
  
"Surely you don't think that such religious and important a family as yours would not be well known to Father?" Raziel inquired.  
  
"Look, I- wait a minute, did you just say religious? Dude, you don't know my family at all, do you? The Winchesters are not really religious, well, not except for Sam anyway and I'm not so sure where he stands on the issue these days though I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you."  
  
"No, you're right that the last few generations of the American branch of the Winchester family have lost its faith in Father, but that's hardly enough to counter the centuries of faith that preceded it. Or the fact that the European branch of the Winchester family is still as religious and faithful as ever."  
  
"Whoa, wait, the  _European_  branch?" Dean demanded incredulously. "What European branch?"


	177. Chapter 176

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean learns about the history of his family.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
Raziel looked at him in surprise. "You don't know about your family in Europe?"  
  
"Uh, no," Dean replied before looking at his husband and Michael. "Did you guys know about this?"  
  
"I was aware that there had been a branch that remained in Europe, but I had not followed up on it to see if they were still around," Michael said. "They were not the ones that Heaven was interested in."  
  
"No, you mean not the ones that  _you_  were interested in," Raziel corrected.  
  
"Are you saying that they are important as well?" Castiel inquired.  
  
"Not for themselves, at least not pertaining directly to the Apocalypse, but being more aware of their family's role and importance, they have obtained a few items and scrolls that are important."  
  
"Great, more reading," Dean muttered under his breath before raising his voice. "So I suppose that we need to take a trip to Europe then. Where exactly are they located? What country I mean."  
  
"England, Winchester to be precise."  
  
" _Winchester_?"  
  
"I did say that your family was important."  
  
"Dude, having a town named after you is more than being merely important!"  
  
"Not so much at the time when it was done. You need to keep in mind that this was all done a very long time ago, Dean."  
  
"Do I even want to know  _how_  long ago?"  
  
"No, probably not. At least not if you're anything like most of the humans that I've dealt with before."  
  
It was extremely weird in a way to have an angel that was so aware of human nature. With Anna and Gabriel at least, Dean hadn't known them as angels initially, so once he'd discovered that they were, he was already basing all of his expectations of them on who they were rather than what they were. All of the other angels that he'd met, however, hadn't possessed anywhere near this level of skill when it came to interacting with humans, rather the opposite in fact.  
  
"Okay, how about this split then. What happened there to lead to some of the family being here and not really knowing about the ones left behind in England?" Dean asked, wondering if it was because of the way that they'd been raised.  
  
Dad had never been particularly forthcoming when it came to his family. Their complete break from Aunt Deirdre after the fire proved that. To be fair, though, Dean had never asked about her either other than that one time when his father had told him that they weren't going to see her for a while. Dad might actually have meant it like that at the time as he was pretty sure that it preceded his father's knowledge of Azazel's existence and what the demon's plans were for Sam.  
  
"It was exactly that, a split," Raziel stated. "It was during the time that England was populating the colonies and there were two brothers born to the Winchester family in the generation in question. To say that they didn't get along is putting it mildly. They truly couldn't stand each other and to make things even worse one brother followed in the family's tradition of faith and the other was an atheist, an extreme rarity at the time."  
  
"And the atheist took the trip to the US?"  
  
"Well, it wasn't the US at the time, but yes, Gabriel Winchester decided to start afresh in the colonies far away from his family and their power and influence."  
  
" _Gabriel_  Winchester?"  
  
"Like I said, the main branch of your family was very religious."  
  
"Dude, that's just wrong."  
  
"Only you would say that, Little One," Michael commented, amused. "Many consider it an honor to be named after an archangel."  
  
Dean pulled a face at that but he was glad to see that his friend was doing better. He knew for a fact that Michael wouldn't get over what he'd just learned so easily, but clearly the initial shock of it had passed. No doubt aided by the joy of seeing a long-lost brother again. Given how many angels had died as of late, to discover that one who had been missing was hale and whole had to be a welcome relief.  
  
"It's unoriginal is what it is," Dean retorted.  
  
"And being named after your grandmother isn't?"  
  
"Hey, I didn't know!"  
  
"What exactly is it that the other Winchesters possess that is of such value?" Castiel asked, sliding a placating hand over Dean's back that he couldn't help but lean into.  
  
"I've never read the scrolls myself, so I don't know what they contain, but among the items there is an extremely powerful focusing crystal," Raziel responded.  
  
"A focusing crystal?" Dean questioned, unimpressed.  
  
"Mm, the good ones are very rare."  
  
"Focusing crystals can be used for any number of purposes," Michael explained. "They can be used to enhance one's existing power or to augment the power of a spell or ritual if used properly."  
  
"For more skilled and powerful individuals, it can also be used to enhance other natural abilities," Castiel added. "If nothing else, we would want to claim this crystal to ensure that neither Lucifer nor any of those with him manage to get their hands on it. The consequences of that happening could be catastrophic."  
  
"Wonderful," Dean sighed. "Alrighty then, let's go to England and meet the family. Wait, they're not still pissed at us, are they?"  
  
"No," Raziel smiled. "Forgiveness is an integral part of the Christian religions and the arguments that led to the split have long since been forgiven and forgotten. In point of fact, they are actually quite eager to meet you."  
  
"Really?" Dean asked, before glancing down at himself. "It would probably be better if they didn't 'cause now they'll just be disappointed."  
  
"Dean," Michael scolded sternly.  
  
Combined with the censure his husband sent his way over their bond, Dean couldn't help but flinch. "Oh come on! Just because I know I'm not what I used to think I was doesn't mean that I've lost track of what I appear to be to others. I mean look at me, jeans, t-shirts and flannel aren't exactly high fashion and no matter what you say, a hunting lifestyle isn't the most educational or cultured of professions. Which is fine for me, I personally couldn't care less about normal or school or any of that crap, but it doesn't make for very good impressions on people who do see it all as important."  
  
"What do you mean?" Castiel frowned.  
  
"If I were to put it bluntly, those who have gone to college or are normal generally see me as an uncouth and uncultured thug."  
  
"No, Beloved, that's not true."  
  
"Cas, I love you but don't be an idiot. You're an angel who's always been able to see people's very souls. That means that you've never had to solely rely on physical appearances to judge someone. Besides, don't even try and pretend that my attitude didn't used to drive you nuts."  
  
"That was before I really got to know you."  
  
"Which takes time and a willingness or necessity to give it that. Lots of people don't and are more than happy to go with their first impressions."  
  
"Then it's their loss," Raziel declared.  
  
Dean scoffed. "Dude, you don't even know me."  
  
"No, but like you said, I'm an angel and can see not only your soul, but also your bond with my brother. So you can be as rough around the edges as you want, I already know what's buried underneath that gruff exterior of yours somewhere."  
  
"I did not think that you cared what others thought of you, Little One," Michael said.  
  
"Most people, no, I don't. But this is family."  
  
"Not close family," Castiel stated, pulling him close. "And if they can't see how special you are then screw them."  
  
"Cas!" Dean laughed, snuggling close despite himself.  
  
"All we need from them are the scrolls and crystal. We never need to go back to them after that if you don't want to."  
  
"But they're family."  
  
"The ones that I have met have been kind enough," Raziel said. "I do not think that it will be an issue."  
  
"Are they aware that you're an angel?"  
  
"Yes, they are aware of that. I figured that since they were aware of their family's origins that they could handle the truth."  
  
"Our family's origin?"  
  
"The fact that you are descended from Abel."  
  
"Oh, yeah, that. I'm kinda surprised that they've managed to remember that. I mean it's been ages ago, or at least it has from a human perspective."  
  
"Like I said, they are very religious and have passed the information on from generation to generation."  
  
"Still, that's kinda impressive. Not to mention more than a little crazy. I mean surely someone somewhere down the line must have thought of it as no more than a myth or family legend."  
  
"That's precisely what Gabriel Winchester thought and why he never mentioned it to his wife or children here."  
  
"All it takes is for one sibling to believe the truth and to pass it on," Michael said. "There were various members of your family who did view it as you said and the ones who chose to believe weren't always the men, so the family name changed along the way. It wasn't until Gabriel, though, that the belief in your origins and fated destiny split from the crucial part of the bloodline."  
  
"You guys do realize how wrong it is that you know all of this and were actually there watching my ancestors, right?"  
  
"So human," Castiel commented fondly, smiling at him.  
  
"I must admit that I do sometimes forget how young you are," Michael added.  
  
"Bite me, Mike," Dean shot back.  
  
"You might not want to say that to your other family," Raziel pointed out.  
  
"Gee, I wonder why. Does all of this mean that we're heading over there now?"  
  
"Now would be a good time as the morning services would be over and with it being a weekday in November there should not be as many tourists in the cathedral."  
  
"Cathedral?"  
  
"Yes, the Winchester Cathedral, it is where one of your family members, Michael, works. He is the one that I know best."  
  
"You've got to be kidding me, Michael? Really?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
It was as he rolled his eyes that Dean noticed the way that his friend's wings had shifted and he laughed. The way the feathers were puffed up clearly indicated how proud and honored Michael was to have yet another someone named after him. He didn't really know why it surprised him anymore. He knew that angels were strange after all. But if it pleased his bond brother to have people named after him, then who was he to complain? It was such a simple, harmless pleasure in the grand scheme of things.  
  
"Okay, just let me text Bobby so they don't worry about where I've vanished off to," Dean said, pulling out his phone.  
  
Not quite sure how to explain everything that had just happened or even how to summarize it quickly, Dean just typed in  _Gone to England, be back later_  and left it at that. He could explain everything in detail when he got back and could do so face to face. Plus, with any luck, there'd be more to tell then as this whole trip could turn out to be nothing more than a wild goose chase as far as useful information was concerned.  
  
"Right, beam me up, Scotty," Dean stated when he was done and had put away his phone.  
  
"I would not have taken you for a Trekkie, Dean," Raziel laughed.  
  
Huh, an angel who actually got his pop culture references. Dean could get used to that.  
  
"Inside the cathedral then?" Castiel asked.  
  
"Unless you want to stop and change dollars for pounds along the way," Raziel responded. "They charge an entry fee to get into the cathedral these days."  
  
"No, inside is good for me," Dean chimed in. "And seriously, they charge you to go into a cathedral? They should  _pay_  people to do that."  
  
Michael's laugh was the last thing that Dean heard before his husband spread his many wings and they were off, flying through the air. Like the last time, he was slightly more aware of the actual journey though it was still nowhere near as clear as it was when he was with Michael. Out of consideration for prying eyes, Castiel landed them in a dark corner off to the side of the pews so it took Dean a few moments to realize exactly how massive the cathedral actually was. When he did, he couldn't help but step out into the light and stare. This was definitely far bigger than the one that he and Michael had been in to see Father Pieter-Jan and reminded him more of the Basilica though it wasn't quite as impressive as that.  
  
"I shall go find Michael," Raziel stated.  
  
"I shall join you, Brother," Michael said.  
  
"Yeah, sure," Dean replied vaguely before he walked forwards towards the mirror at the head of the aisle that ran between the two columns of pews.  
  
At first Dean was confused as to why it was there, but then he got it as he saw that it gave him a perfect view of the artwork and carvings on the ceiling. It also gave him a slight sense of disorientation but that was far preferable to the crick in his neck that he'd get if he were to stare up at the vaulted ceiling instead. The beeping of his phone signalling an incoming text drew him from his admiration of the ceiling and he pulled it out. The message was from Bobby and he frowned in confusion as he opened it before smiling as he read it.  
  
 _What?! You can't just send a text like that before vanishing, you globetrotting idjit. Those angels of yours had better get your ass back here soon at which point you've got some explaining to do. Sodding England._  
  


* * *

  
Michael followed his brother, not quite ready to let Raziel out of his sight now that he had his brother back once more. Despite that, he wasn't sure how he felt about the situation. That he was feeling anger wasn't in doubt, it was everything else that he was unsure of. There was definitely joy there, but it was tinged by the anger as well as the disbelief that he felt at knowing that Raziel had come to understand that Father wanted them to act more independently on his own. Was he the only one who hadn't been able to see that? No, Raphael hadn't, but was it clear to all of his other brothers and sisters? If so, what was wrong with himself and Raphael that they hadn't understood this desire of their Father's?  
  
So, yes, that detracted from his pleasure at seeing Raziel once more, but Michael found that he couldn't truly be angry at his brother either. Raziel hadn't done anything wrong, not unless he said that his Father was wrong to have asked it of his brother. And he couldn't quite believe that he'd even thought of that possibility even if he wasn't truly considering it. Because he wasn't, not at all.  
  
"Hello, Michael," Raziel said to a human clad in long robes when they landed.  
  
"Raziel," the human Michael replied, voice and tone deferential.  
  
"I'd like to introduce you to a few people. First off, this is my oldest brother and the one after whom you've been named, Michael."  
  
"Michael?" the human's eyes went wide with disbelief.  
  
"Yes," Michael confirmed, the reverence and awe feeling strange and odd.  
  
Clearly the time that he'd spent with Dean had affected him more than he'd thought as Michael realized that part of why it felt odd was because he felt like he hadn't done anything to deserve it from this particular human. Sure, some of the reverence and awe probably stemmed from what he had done before, during the Rebellion, but far too much of it was probably because of who and what he was rather than anything more substantial and he found that he simply didn't like that. The respect and trust that Dean had for him and which he could so clearly feel when they were together meant so more to him than this human's reverence and awe ever could. He'd  _earned_  that respect and trust and knew that his precious human didn't give them either freely or lightly and so they meant more to him that this ever could.  
  
Michael knew better than to try and verbalize any of that though because if there was one thing that he'd noticed during his time observing humanity, it was that those who were truly religious often had difficulty adjusting their views on such matters. Besides, Dean had already taught him that the best way of altering such strongly held convictions was to prove them to be false rather than telling people that they were. It had worked with both Raphael and himself.  
  
"It is an honour to meet you," the human stated, though Michael could see the question in his eyes.  
  
"Yes, this vessel is female, but my true one is male."  
  
"What can I do for you? You said that there were others that you wished for me to meet, Raziel?"  
  
"Yes, the first is another of my brothers while the second is Dean Winchester," Raziel replied.  
  
"The Righteous Man?"  
  
"Precisely. They are currently in the nave. Shall I tell them to meet us here so as to avoid others overhearing us?"  
  
"A good idea, I shall go open the door."  
  
Curious, Michael followed the human, though he kept an eye on his brother to ensure that Raziel didn't simply vanish without his knowledge once more. Because he was with the other Michael, he noticed the way the human's eyes scanned his precious vessel when Dean and Castiel approached and the emotions that flickered in their depths. It would appear that for all that he'd hated and disliked what his bond brother had said earlier, that Dean was correct in his assessment of how he would be perceived by others.  
  
"You shouldn't judge based on appearances," Michael scolded gravely.  
  
"Excuse me?" the human Michael questioned, startled as the man's eyes snapped back to him.  
  
"Do I look like an angel, much less an archangel to you?"  
  
"N- No."  
  
"So what makes you think that you would be able to judge Dean based on his appearance?"  
  
"I..."  
  
"Just because he has not been faithful or received more than the minimum required education does not negate all of the good that he has done. Dean is a hunter who has dedicated his life to helping others by saving them from the creatures and darkness that is out there which most people are unaware of. And unlike some who do what is good and right because they wish to go to Heaven, he did it because it was the right thing to do. He never believed in Heaven and even once he learned of its existence, he didn't believe that he would go there. So all that he has done has been because he personally believed it to be the right thing to do."  
  
"I did not mean to offend, Michael."  
  
"I'm sorry, I was rather more forceful than I should have been," Michael admitted. "It is just that I have seen Dean judged and treated harshly by those who do not understand him and the sacrifices that he has made."  
  
"I- You were right, I was judging him prematurely. It is simply that my family has believed and waited for so long, for so many generations, that it is hard to understand why it is now one who has not dedicated his life to the church and faith that is chosen."  
  
"Although I cannot answer why Father decided to do it this way, I think that Dean may have been chosen precisely because he wouldn't be a believer."  
  
The way the human jerked and stared at him in utter shock confirmed Michael's earlier decision not to tell the man about his own revelation.  
  
"I don't understand," the human Michael admitted.  
  
"It seems that Father wishes for us to avert the Apocalypse as it was written and find another means of dealing with Lucifer. Therefore the Righteous Man had to be someone who would not simply do as Raphael and I wanted, but would instead stand up to us and fight for what he believed to be right."  
  
"Dean stood up to you?"  
  
"Myself, Raphael and Lucifer."  
  
This time when the human looked back at Dean, Michael detected an entirely different set of emotions in his eyes and he nodded once, feeling quite pleased with himself.


	178. Chapter 177

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean meets one of the members of the European branch of the Winchester family.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
From the moment that Dean managed to tear his gaze away from the incredibly impressive altar area of the cathedral to look at the newest member of his extended human family, he knew that something was up. Not only did he not normally get looked at like that by religious leaders (though he strongly suspected that the faith healer from Nebraska would have done so if the man hadn't been blind), but his bond brother looked entirely too pleased with himself for something not to be up. He snorted and shook his head, he really should have known better than to expect anything else. His archangels were just completely incapable of leaving well enough alone when it came to him and things that they viewed as an injustice to him.  
  
Although Dean couldn't know for sure what it was that his bond brother had said to the human Michael, he could guess and he braced himself for the type of reaction that he'd gotten from various members of the Vatican.  
  
"Michael," Michael began. "This is my brother Castiel and your own relative, Dean Winchester. Dean, Castiel, this is Michael."  
  
Right, like that wasn't going to get confusing at all.  
  
"It is an honour," the human Michael said, looking first at Castiel before reaching out to shake Dean's hand.  
  
"Nice to meet you," Dean replied, slightly uncomfortable.  
  
"Please, come in away from the tourist areas so that we can talk without being overheard."  
  
"Dean Winchester!" a woman called out.  
  
Surprised, Dean turned to look who it was that recognized him, but he was quite sure that he'd never before seen the older woman who was rushing towards them, though he could be mistaken of course. That said, it would be surprising if he was and that he just happened to run into someone that knew him here in England when he'd not even been in the country for all of ten minutes. Plus he was quite sure that he'd remember her just for her accent.  
  
"Dean Winchester, may I have a word? It'll only take a wee moment."  
  
"Sure," the human Michael replied before turning to look at them. "Excuse me for a moment, I'll join you in a few minutes."  
  
"Huh?" Dean said, totally confused. "I thought that his name was Michael."  
  
"It is," Raziel confirmed, appearing at his side so suddenly that Dean wasn't sure if the archangel had just crept up on them or had actually flown in. He'd say the latter but he hadn't actually heard the archangel's wings so he wasn't sure.  
  
"She called him Dean."  
  
"It's his title. A dean is the chief resident cleric of a cathedral within several of the Christian religions, including the Anglican Communion."  
  
"A title? You've got to be kidding me."  
  
"Nope, 'fraid not. So you see, Michael is actually Dean Michael Winchester, or Dean Winchester to most people here."  
  
"Dude, that's so not cool."  
  
"I believe that it is ironic, though," Michael stated, smiling. "Not only is your first name a title, but it's a religious title as well."  
  
Dean narrowed his eyes at his friend, not at all impressed. This was his  _name_  that they were talking about here. The thing that he'd been called his entire life. "That's easy for you to laugh at, you clearly like names to be repeated or reused, I don't."  
  
"It's okay, Beloved," Castiel soothed. "You'll still be unique among all humans, nothing can ever come close to threatening that."  
  
"No, that's not it, Cas," Dean replied, struggling and failing miserably to think of a good way to put it. "I- It's just... I don't know."  
  
Before any of his archangels could reply, the dean came back to them and ushered them out of the public areas so that they could speak in private.  
  
"I believe that it's safe for me to assume that you're not all here for a social visit," Dean Michael said.  
  
"No, unfortunately not," Raziel confirmed.  
  
"Then it is time?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Strange as it may seem, that's almost a relief."  
  
"A relief?" Dean questioned in disbelief.  
  
"Yes. We- my family and I- have been tracking the signs of all of the unusual activity that has been transpiring in the States and we didn't know what to make of it all. We'd thought that it might be related to the Apocalypse due to some of the signs, but things just didn't quite come together well enough for us to be sure of that."  
  
Now that Dean could actually understand. There was absolutely nothing worse than having to deal with a situation and not being able to figure out what was going on. Without that crucial bit of information it was nigh on impossible to create a proper plan that could actually be carried out as you just had no idea if it was even feasible or not. Though he'd always been a big fan of just barging in and dealing with things on the fly, even he'd known better than to do so recklessly when he didn't even have the slightest grasp on what he was actually dealing with. That would just be suicidal, pure and simple.  
  
"That would be mainly because of Dean," Michael replied with an undercurrent to his tone that told Dean that his bond brother meant more than merely what he was actually saying and he couldn't help but wonder how his archangel could do that having only met the dean minutes ago. Just what exactly had they talked about? "Your distant cousin simply refused to play his part and instead derailed all plans pertaining to how the Apocalypse should have gone."  
  
"Which you said is what God intended, right?" the dean checked.  
  
Ah, so  _that's_  what Michael had said to get his cousin to look at him the way that Dean Michael had. It was clever, Dean had to admit that, though he wouldn't tell his bond brother. The last thing that his archangel needed was encouragement at this point, he'd already discovered firsthand how Michael and the others had no problem turning the tables on him when it suited their purpose. Like hell was he going to give them any more ammo to do so with, not unless there was a clear benefit to it for himself at least.  
  
"Well, I'm not sure that we can say whether Father intended for it to go like this," Castiel responded. "He did approve of the original scripture at one point, but He definitely approved of what happened."  
  
"I hope that you'll excuse me if I say that this is hard to take in so suddenly."  
  
"Don't worry, these guys more than understand where you're coming from as they've all been there themselves at one point or another," Dean reassured the guy.  
  
"If the End of Days is nearly upon us, then I assume that you are here for the items?" Dean Michael asked.  
  
"It won't be the End of Days if we have anything to say about it. But, yeah, we're here for the items that you have, if you don't mind."  
  
"This is not how I'd envisioned things going, but if this is what is intended, then I am here to serve."  
  
The sentiment annoyed Dean, but he bit his tongue as it worked in their favor in this particular instance. It was hard for him to understand how they could be related, though. Between himself and his father there had been an utter lack of faith and he'd never quite known the depth of his brother's belief until they'd dealt with that fake angel job in Providence. So to think of anyone directly related to them literally dedicating their very life to religion was all but mindboggling and if it had been anyone other than his archangels saying that they were related, he'd not have believed them.  
  


* * *

  
"Wait, so let me make sure that I've got this right," Sam hissed through clenched teeth. "Not only did you just meet a new archangel in your room earlier today, but he told you about more of our family in Europe who not only knew about the power that ran through our bloodline but also possessed various things that could help us win this Apocalypse and instead of coming to tell us about it you just decided to head over to England alone- with nothing but a text message to us- and deal with it yourself?"  
  
Dean frowned at his brother's agitation and shared a quick look with his husband. "I was hardly alone, Sam."  
  
"Oh, so what? Bobby and I aren't good enough anymore now that you have your angel pals? What the hell, man?"  
  
"Dude, calm down, it wasn't like that."  
  
"No? Then what was it like, Dean? Because I honestly don't even know anymore."  
  
"It was business as usual. A lead came up and so we followed through on it the way that we always do."  
  
"Not alone!"  
  
"For the last time, Sam, I wasn't alone. I was with Cas and Mike in addition to Raziel."  
  
Sam snorted. "An angel whom you know nothing about. Like  _that_  hasn't gone wrong before."  
  
"Though we had not known what had happened to Raziel, we did know that he was on our side," Castiel interrupted. "He fought with us during the Rebellion and lost his bond mate to Lucifer's blade. There is absolutely no chance that Raziel would ever side with Lucifer after that."  
  
"That still doesn't explain why you two didn't come and get us."  
  
"How about because we didn't think of it?" Dean responded, feeling his own temper start to rise. "Is that what you wanted to hear, Sam?  _I didn't think of it_."  
  
"You sent me a text," Bobby pointed out. "You thought of that."  
  
"Yeah, sure, because I didn't want you to worry about where I'd vanished off to, but that was all. It just didn't occur to me to drag you guys along. Sorry if that upsets you, but this is how we roll now. A lead comes in and we follow up on it, me and Cas and Mike and Raph. Whoever's free goes after it and then we fill in the others later."  
  
"And if you get into trouble?" Bobby questioned.  
  
"Angels are always connected to each other," Castiel replied. "All it would take is a single call for help and all of my brothers and sisters would hear it if I so wished them to."  
  
"And that never fails?"  
  
"Nothing is foolproof, but Dean has also given Michael and Raphael cell phones, so there have always been two different lines of communication open to us."  
  
"I still can't believe that you didn't think to come get us," Sam muttered. "I mean didn't you even stop to think for a moment that I might have wanted to meet this Michael or the other members of our family over there?"  
  
"No, Sam, I didn't," Dean responded tightly. "And I'm sorry, okay? But you've got to remember, we've been apart for over a year, things change and this is one of them. I'm used to going places with Cas, Mike or Raph now. I've not had to think about including anyone else since Stull Cemetery. And besides, it's not like you can really talk, you didn't tell me about the Campbells after all."  
  
His brother visibly flinched at that and Dean felt slightly bad, but not nearly bad enough to try and take back his words. They were all true and Sam would just have to live with the consequences of his actions for once. He'd already learned the hard way what attempting to soften the blows or negating the blame did.  
  
"That's not fair," Sam complained. "I was under Lucifer's influence then, it wasn't my fault!"  
  
"Being under Lucifer's influence didn't force you to do anything, Sam," Castiel replied firmly. "It merely made you give in to your anger and pride more easily than you would have done otherwise. It did not, however, create the anger and arrogance that you felt, no, those were all your own. It was not like being possessed or being under the power of a dark spell. Your decisions were still your own."  
  
" _What_?"  
  
"What Cas is trying to say is that it isn't a get out of jail free card," Dean explained. "You can't just blame everything that you did that you didn't like on it and then pretend that they never happened. That was you, Sam, so deal with it. There's a reason why no one, including yourself I might add, realized that something was up and that's because none of it was entirely out of character for you."  
  
"That's not true!"  
  
"No? Sam, you told me yourself that you've got an anger problem after we did that job at the Glenwood Springs Psychiatric Hospital. And if most of your fights with Dad weren't about you knowing better and your ego then I'll eat my shoes."  
  
"Angelic vessels in general and archangel vessels in particular are chosen because of the compatibility that they have with their angel," Castiel stated.  
  
"I'm  _not_  like Lucifer!" Sam exclaimed angrily.  
  
"No, but you had enough similarities with him in order to ensure a good fit. Just as Dean did with Michael."  
  
"Why, because I get angry? Everyone gets angry. Hell, Dean hits people when he gets angry, at least I never let mine get physical."  
  
"No, you just keep it all locked up inside you, boiling ever hotter and becoming more and more obsessive," Dean replied. "You of all people should know how bad for you that is. You're always trying to get me to talk about things because you say that it would be good for me."  
  
"I don't get obsessive in my anger, that was Dad, Dean."  
  
"Please, Sam, the two of you were like two peas in a pod. You were just as obsessed with chasing Azazel as Dad was once Jess died, to the point where you were willing to abandon innocent people who were in trouble just because you'd realized that Dad wasn't there. Not to mention your obsession with killing Lilith."  
  
"She'd killed you!"  
  
"Yeah, but if it had really been about me, then you'd have stopped when Cas brought me back. Or at the very least you'd have listened to me, instead you ignored everything that I said in your single minded quest to gank that little bitch. And also, if it had been about me then you wouldn't have broken your promise to me not to use your powers anymore. The fact that you were able to justify that away proves that it wasn't about me, it was about revenge, the thing you used to condemn Dad for being so obsessed with."  
  
"So you're saying what, that making a crossroads deal was a better way of handling things?"  
  
"No, of course not. What I was stupid and thoughtless and it's definitely not something that I would ever do again," Dean admitted freely. "The difference between us is that I've come to terms with why I did it, owned up to my weaknesses and worked to correct them. Have I done so completely? Not even close, but I've made a lot of progress towards that end and definitely plan to continue doing so. You've not done any of that, which is why we're here now, having this discussion."  
  
"Having been with Lucifer merely gave your subconscious license to use and give into your anger, arrogance and self-righteousness even more than you did before," Castiel added. "My brother always felt entitled to whatever he wanted and so did you once you'd been with him, but not because a part of him remained with you after you were pulled free from the cage, but because you were nearly there by yourself anyway. Therefore even you didn't see it as an outside influence as it wasn't a big leap."  
  
"So what are you guys saying?" Sam demanded. "That I'm a lost cause? That I'm rotten through and through and should just give up?"  
  
"Damnit, Sam, that's not what I'm saying at all!" Dean exclaimed, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "I'm just saying that if you really want to get over this, then you're gonna have to man up, admit to your own faults and work to change them. Simply blaming everything on Lucifer is the easy way out and will only lead to something like this happening again."  
  
"What, a random douchebag angel showing up and you gallivanting off around the world with your angels?"  
  
"Hey, that douchebag angel is the reason you only spent so little time in the cage with Lucifer. Raziel's the one that pulled you out!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Did he say why?" Bobby asked, piping up for the first time in quite a while.  
  
"Yeah, he said that God told him to do it, said that it was necessary."  
  
And that right there? It threw all of Dean's perfectly justified and righteous anger at the Douche into chaos. After everything that God had done to earn his anger, of course the Guy had to go and do something like this just to complicate things. He hated it when things became complicated, that never led to anything good. Nothing good at all. At least the shock of it seemed to have shut his brother up for now and Sam actually looked contemplative, which was the best that he could hope for at the moment, so he took that as a win.  
  
"Okay, so what about the trip itself, was it worth all of this trouble?" Bobby inquired ironically.  
  
"Yeah, so I've been told," Dean replied.  
  
"You've been told?"  
  
"Well all we got were some old scrolls and a shiny rock that's apparently magical or something, but I've been told that it's all important."  
  
"It's a focusing crystal, Dean," Castiel corrected with mock exasperation, though Dean could feel the indulgence and amusement over their bond. "A flawless one."  
  
"A flawless focusing crystal?" Bobby questioned in disbelief. "Those are nearly impossible to get hold of."  
  
"It took the Winchester family several generations to obtain and they've guarded it carefully ever since."  
  
"No kidding they did."  
  
"I take it the crystal's important then?" Sam asked.  
  
"Extremely so," Castiel confirmed. "It can be used to augment the power of many a spell as well as various other things. If we find a weapon that can be used against Lucifer there is a good chance that this crystal will be capable of enhancing its effectiveness."  
  
"We got to find a weapon first."  
  
"I don't suppose those scrolls contained anything towards that end?" Bobby questioned.  
  
"We don't know," Dean answered. "They all seem to be in some kind of code and Michael- our distant cousin Michael that is- said that though there were rumors that someone in the family could once read them, that particular skill has been lost for ages, along with any knowledge of the scrolls' contents. All he knew is that they are incredibly important and had to be protected at all costs."  
  
"How is something like that even lost?" Sam inquired in disbelief. "I mean if they knew about the importance of our family's destiny?"  
  
"It was at a time when the scrolls were passed on to someone who thought it was nothing more than a family legend, a story told to amuse the children," Castiel explained. "We were told that the only reason the scrolls survived is because they were shoved aside in the attic with various other unwanted items."  
  
"Damn but that would be an awful way to lose an Apocalypse," Bobby muttered.  
  
"That's exactly what I said!" Dean exclaimed before his tone turned petulant, even to his own ears. "They said that I lacked faith."  
  
"But you do, Dean," Castiel stated.  
  
"Bite me, Cas."  
  
"Mm, maybe later."


	179. Chapter 178

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel searches for the perfect ring to give to his bond mate.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
The tiny bell above the door tinkled when Castiel entered and he smiled to himself for not having forgotten to enter the store in the proper human fashion this time. The first jewellery store that he'd visited had possessed a similar device and he had badly startled the saleswoman behind the counter when he'd spoken as she'd thought herself to be alone since the bell hadn't sounded upon his arrival.  
  
"Hello and welcome to Rajendro Jewelers," the salesman greeted. "My name is Pradeep, how may I help you?"  
  
"I have been told that you specialize in custom-made jewellery," Castiel replied, still amused that these stores often presumed that he would be English speaking based on his vessel's attire.  
  
"It is a reputation that we are proud to have. What type of jewellery were you looking for, Sir?"  
  
"Wedding bands."  
  
"Ah, the sir is preparing for his lucky day? We have many different styles and types for you to choose from. If you would please come this way, I can show you some of our current stock, though we are always happy to create new items on request, either of our own design or based on specific customer requests."  
  
Castiel followed Pradeep over to a counter further back in the store. At this one there were a number of rings on display beneath the glass, all of various different colors and metals. Many of the wedding bands were accompanied by what he had learned since the beginning of his search were engagement rings, and all of those were of matching styles to the wedding rings they were paired with.  
  
"I assume that you already have an engagement ring, Sir?" Pradeep inquired. "It would be good to have a photo of it to ensure that the chosen wedding ring goes well with it."  
  
"No, there is no engagement ring."  
  
"Very well. What did you have in mind, Sir?"  
  
"Something gold," Castiel replied. "I want it to be traditional enough to be instantly recognizable as a wedding ring."  
  
"And yet different enough to be personalized?"  
  
"Yes, precisely."  
  
"As you wish, Sir. These rings over here are all gold."  
  
His search had taken Castiel all over the world. At first it had been because he didn't know what it was that he wanted and therefore he had decided to view as many different rings as possible to see what the different options were. When he'd seen his first few, he had thought that he wanted to get something quite unique to show people how much he cared for his bond mate. When he had thought about it some more, however, he had realized that this wasn't the best way to go. Dean's attachment to the wedding rings came from having watched his father with John's own wedding band. A quick trip back in time had shown him that John and Mary Winchester had chosen the simple traditional rings.  
  
The more that he'd thought about it, the more that Castiel became convinced that something less modern was best. Not only would the traditional rings mean more to his bond mate, but he found that he also preferred the idea of other people have no doubts whatsoever as to what the ring on Dean's finger signified. That decision had narrowed his search significantly, but it had also made it harder as well. Though he now knew that he wanted something more traditional, he still wished for it to be unique, so that there would never be any doubt that these were  _their_  wedding bands. That had made his search incredibly difficult. Most of the rings that he viewed which were unique were also non-traditional, while the others weren't quite unique enough. They possessed stones or jewels that humans deemed precious and while he had briefly flirted with the idea of using Dean's birthstone, he had soon dismissed the idea. His bond mate was not one for such frivolous adornments, indeed all of the jewellery that he had seen his hunter wear had some specific significance to Dean.  
  
Castiel had also dismissed the idea of jewels due to the danger that they could pose on a hunt. Precious stones sparkled, which could draw a creature's eye and therefore their attention. It was the absolute last thing that he wished to happen. It left him without any ideas for what he did want, though, and he'd come here to Rajendro Jewelers looking for inspiration. He'd heard them recommended from several different sources and knew that they might be able to help him find what he was looking for.  
  
"As you can see, we have done many different styles and patterns over the years. Now, from what you said, I assume that you're looking for a normal ring shape, yes?" Pradeep questioned.  
  
"That is correct," Castiel confirmed, looking over the wedding bands in the indicated area.  
  
The top tier of rings were all specially patterned and the engagement rings beside them were similarly shaped so that the two could come together to look like a single ring when worn on the same finger. The others, though, looked more like the wedding bands that Castiel had seen elsewhere. They were shaped like normal rings but sported a variety of different designs on them, some of them natural, some of them tribal and some of them whimsical or fantastical. None of them, however, sparked his interest and he made a displeased sound in the back of his throat, afraid that he would come up empty again here as well.  
  
Then, just as Castiel was about to say something, Pradeep placed a ring binder on the display case and flipped it open to a section partway through.  
  
"These are some photos of customized wedding rings which we have made over the past few years," Pradeep explained. "These particular photos here are of ones that were too specialized to have premade and on display for new customers, though we can make something similar if the sir desires."  
  
Curious, Castiel flipped through the photos until he caught sight of some rings that he hadn't seen before. These were also tradition wedding bands only instead of having the same designs on them that the other rings had, these were different. The engraving here was in the middle of the band and done in a variety of different languages. Reading them he could see why these could not just be premade and placed on display as they contained the names of the couple and their wedding date. He pondered the idea for a moment, wondering if his bond mate would appreciate it. The thought was definitely an intriguing one, but he wasn't sure if he wanted complete strangers to be able to know so much about them at a single glance.  
  
The idea came to Castiel so swiftly and suddenly that he couldn't believe that it hadn't occurred to him before.  
  
"Does the sir see something which he likes?" Pradeep inquired.  
  
"This engraving," Castiel began, tapping one of the photos. "Does it have to be in a known language, or can it be done in whatever shape or pattern I would like?"  
  
"Our engraver can achieve many different patterns, but if the sir would like something new, then we would require an example of the design to be engraved," Pradeep replied, pulling out paper and a pen before hesitating. "It would also cost more."  
  
"Cost is not an issue."  
  
If Bobby did not possess sufficient funds in his account, then Castiel would obtain the necessary money elsewhere. He was not yet sure how or where, but now that he knew what he wanted, he wasn't going to let something like money stand between him and it. Not when he was sure that Dean would like what he had planned far too much. Picking up the pen, he quickly wrote out what he wanted each ring to say, being careful to make all of the details of the Enochian script clear so that the engraver would know precisely what it was that he wanted. He wanted nothing short of perfection for this.  
  


* * *

  
As he loaded the last of the breakfast dishes into the dishwasher, Dean couldn't help but glance out at Raziel once more. The archangel was still seated sideways on the porch steps where he'd spotted him earlier when he'd first come down for breakfast, but now instead of looking about the yard aimlessly, Raziel's eyes had gone unfocused and had a faraway look to them that he easily recognized from his father in years gone past. Dad had always gotten that exact same look in his eyes around the anniversaries of Mom's birthday and death. If he didn't have some horrific inkling of just what it was that the archangel was currently experiencing then he might be tempted to think of it as beautiful for the love and devotion it signified, but he did know better.  _Much_  better.  
  
"Aw, hell," Dean muttered, closing the dishwasher with more force than strictly necessary.  
  
"Dean?" Bobby questioned from where the older hunter was still seated at the table with his mug of coffee.  
  
"'s nothing, Bobby," Dean replied with a wave of his hand.  
  
He couldn't quite believe that he was even considering this, but Dean knew that he'd not feel right if he didn't do it. Not when it could so easily have been Castiel or even himself in Raziel's shoes instead of his newest bond brother. With a silent rebuke to himself, he grabbed his coat off the hook by the door and stepped outside into the chilled morning air as he pulled it on.  
  
"Hey," Dean greeted, dropping sideways onto the cold porch steps across from the archangel and leaning back against the railing.  
  
"Dean," Raziel acknowledged, eyes losing their daze to focus on him.  
  
"Look, man, I don't quite know how to do this as I've never really done it before, so please excuse me if I fuck it up."  
  
"Okay. What was it that you wanted to try then?"  
  
"I... well, see it's- ah, dammit."  
  
Raziel laughed. "I can see what you mean about you not knowing how to do this."  
  
"Oh, bite me, Raziel."  
  
"One must ask why you're even trying this, whatever this is, given that you clearly have so little experience with it or desire to do it."  
  
"'Cause I find that I just can't not do it," Dean replied honestly. "I- look, if you want someone to talk to about it, Cas and I are here, okay?"  
  
"Talk to about what?"  
  
Though Raziel was frowning at him in confusion, Dean got the impression that the archangel had some suspicion at least about what he meant, even if his newest bond brother might not fully understand his reasons for making the offer. There was a part of him that wanted to retract what he'd said or at least laugh it all off. The archangel clearly wasn't leaping at the chance to talk about it and he'd definitely prefer not to have to relive what was quite easily the worst experience of his life, his entire experience in Hell included.  
  
But he couldn't, he just couldn't.  
  
Not when Castiel had so very nearly been in Raziel's position and Dean would have wanted someone to be there for his husband if things had gone differently. Besides, just because his new bond brother had been strong enough to survive all these millennia didn't mean that the archangel couldn't use a sympathetic ear or two. And when exactly had he become such a sap? Though he didn't quite feel the same urgency to check that he still had his dick as he once might have, this type of behavior was still so far from what he normally did to make him shift in discomfort and he felt a tendril of concern reaching out across his bond. He bit back the smile that wanted to form on his face and silently reassured his husband that he okay.  
  
"Jophiel," Dean finally stated bluntly, figuring that there was no need to beat around the bush. Not only wasn't it his way, but Raziel already knew it was what he meant anyway. "About your bonding and what happened to her."  
  
There was a familiar shift of wings and Dean literally threw himself across the space between them to grab hold of his bond brother's nearest wrist before the archangel could fly off.  
  
"Let me go," Raziel demanded.  
  
"Not until you hear me out."  
  
"I've heard enough."  
  
"No, you really haven't."  
  
"Either let me go or I'll make you let me go."  
  
It said a lot for how much that he went with his instincts that Dean didn't even blink at the threat. He of all people knew how unbelievably powerful even the weakest archangel was and he somehow doubted Raziel happened to be that one. Yet, despite all of that, he didn't so much as feel a frisson of fear at the threat when, rightly, he should have been downright terrified. Maybe it was because he knew that his newest bond brother would never follow through on it, or maybe it was because he fully believed that Raziel would never do to one of his brothers what had been done to him, but either way he merely tightened his hold on the archangel's wrist.  
  
"We know what it's like," Dean explained. "Cas and I, we know."  
  
" _What?_ " Raziel thundered. "What makes you think that you could possibly understand what it feels like to lose a bond mate?"  
  
"Because we have."  
  
 _That_  clearly shocked the archangel enough that Dean felt comfortable shifting his grip slightly in order to move into a more dignified position rather than the ungainly sprawl that he'd ended up in when lunging forwards to prevent Raziel's rapid exit. It really was no wonder that he didn't tend to do this kind of thing more often given how badly it always seemed to go when he tried. His bond brother had better appreciate this later as he wouldn't have done it for just anyone. There was just something about Raziel that drew him in and he wasn't entirely sure what it was.  
  
"Impossible," the archangel declared. "I can both see and feel your bond even now."  
  
"Well, yeah, that's because it was restored, but it was abruptly severed. Look, when Simiel pulled my grandfather from Heaven and resurrected him, she implanted a compulsion within him to seek me out and utterly destroy me. Towards that end she gave him some First Darkness."  
  
Raziel's eyes opened wide in shock and disbelief. "No, that's impossible.  _No one_  survives First Darkness."  
  
"They do if Death decides to step in and do something about it, which he did. Obviously. But the point is that before he did so, the First Darkness ended our bond, so I  _do_  know what it feels like to lose a bond mate like that. And, if that's not enough, Cas can relate even better because Death arrived only just before I was completely obliterated and after the point at which all of your brothers thought that I was completely gone. There was hardly even a sliver of my soul left apparently."  
  
Because he was so close, Dean could feel the shudder that wracked the archangel's body and he shut his mouth immediately. Obviously he'd gotten his message across so there was no need to torture either of them any further. Maybe that was all that this had been; torture. He'd started this with the best of intentions, but he of all people knew exactly where that could lead, and just how easily it could do so as well. Gently he let go of his bond brother's arm and pulled back despite the fact that Raziel's wings were still poised for flight. Now that the archangel knew that what he and Castiel had gone through, Raziel could go if the archangel still wished to do so. He wasn't about to force anything onto his bond brother- he knew only far too well how awful that felt from plenty of personal experience with a little brother who just  _really_  didn't know when to leave things well enough alone- he'd just wanted him to know that they were there for him if Raziel needed it.  
  
Raziel's wings started trembling and the sheer agony in his bond brother's eyes when the archangel looked up and met Dean's gaze was more than enough to send him hurtling back in time to the moment that his own bond with his husband had been so brutally severed. He struggled to banish the memory but it was already far too late and he could feel Castiel rushing towards them. His angel's arrival startled Raziel and he could feel his bond mate's confusion but the moment that Castiel's eyes locked with his brother, he could practically feel realization dawning and his angel was beside them in an instant.  
  
"Brother," Castiel said, his voice rife with emotion.  
  
Apparently that was the final straw as Raziel closed the gap between himself and Castiel and clutched at his brother. Dean bit his bottom lip at the sight and suddenly felt superfluous. Not quite sure what to say or do, he slowly started edging backwards, intent on leaving the two brothers alone to heal, when midnight wings that he'd respectfully never touched closed around him and pulled him close. Then his husband's own wings closed around them and he was pulled between the two archangels in some strange kind of three-way hug. He stiffened for a moment, only all too aware of how visible they were out here and that Bobby had still been in the kitchen when he stepped out, before he relaxed. He'd been the one to start this and, besides, he could feel how much this was helping his husband as well as his newest bond brother.  
  
Dean wasn't quite sure of how long that stood there like that, but after a while he realized that he'd relaxed far more than he'd have thought possible in this kind of situation. His husband was close to him, though, and that was always soothing let alone after remembering what had happened to him not all that long ago in the barn that he wasn't entirely sure he could enter anymore as he hadn't done so since, the memories of what had happened in there the last time far too potent still. But there was more to it than just that,  _Raziel's_  presence was soothing as well all on its own. Perhaps it was because of the kinship that he could already feel between them from having both experienced such a horrendous experience as the loss of a bond, or perhaps it was because the archangel had saved not one, but both of his brothers from the horrors of what he'd thought at the time as an eternity stuck in Hell with the devil himself for company, regardless of the why it was there and it allowed him to relax further until it was Raziel himself who began to move and pull away.  
  
They let him go easily, Castiel and himself, but Dean found that he couldn't help casting his new bond brother a good once over as he did so. The archangel looked a little better but since he'd never met Raziel before Jophiel's death and his memories from Michael didn't extend back that far, he wasn't entirely sure how far from normal his bond brother looked. He wasn't entirely sure what to say now, not knowing what might be appropriate and what wouldn't be, but a little nudge from his husband, wordlessly asking him to steer the situation away from what had just happened and onto something new had him blurting out the first thing that came to his mind.  
  
"So, how's Michael doing?" Dean asked, eyes flickering between his angel and Raziel, trying to pick up on whatever his husband had but failing to do so and therefore writing it off as an angel thing.  
  
"Michael?" Castiel inquired, confused.  
  
"Yeah, you know with the whole power decay thing and the lock of Chuck's hair? How's that working out for him?"  
  
"Ah, yes, it seems to be working well."  
  
"It will work," Raziel chimed in confidently. "It might also even help undo some of the more recent damage to his vessel as well."  
  
"Really?" Dean questioned, surprised that his new bond brother knew about this.  
  
"Yes, if not then I would not have this vessel," Raziel stated, indicating himself.  
  
"That's not your true vessel?"  
  
"No, his twin brother was."  
  
"Twin? You mean they don't both do it?"  
  
"No, Dean, when twins are born to a vessel bloodline, the ability to house the archangel is only inherited by one of the two," Castiel explained.  
  
"Oh, so why did you end up in the wrong brother?" Dean asked Raziel.  
  
"One of Lucifer's demons managed to kill my true vessel before I was able to take him. I had made the mistake of telling my brother about the fact that my one true vessel had been born shortly before the Rebellion."  
  
Dean winced at that. "And he didn't want you able to use him."  
  
"Yes. What Lucifer didn't count on or understand is that my vessel's brother would be more than willing to let me in if I promised to do all that I could to avenge his brother's death. Father told me shortly afterwards to go seek a gift from the prophet and she gave me this."  
  
As he said it, Raziel reached into a pocket and pulled out a locket of dark auburn hair and Dean couldn't help but wonder how ancient that locket of hair was. He brushed it aside though and was just grateful that Becky's solution would work as the absolutely last thing that they needed right now was to have to find Michael another suitable vessel or have his friend either sidelined or constantly with him. While he wouldn't mind being that close to Michael on a regular basis, he did still want to be able to have private alone time with his husband, regardless of what certain crazy fangirls thought about the matter.  
  



	180. Chapter 179

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The air was sharp with acrid smoke and the cries of the wounded and dying.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
The air was sharp with acrid smoke and the cries of the wounded and dying, none of which had any place here. Neither did the Darkness which had crept in, irreparably tainting that which he held most precious; his family and his home.  
  
Shock was still the foremost emotion singing through his Grace and it was hard for him to process exactly what had happened as it had all been so sudden, so completely unexpected. Yes, he'd known that something was up with his brother- indeed it had been a long time since he'd seen Lucifer even remotely calm or at ease- but he'd thought it just a phase. Something which would pass and leave his little brother as he had always been, happy and bright, a true joy to be around. Now, however, he knew better, just as he knew that this could not have happened overnight. How long had this been going on? How long had his brother been threading down this path?  
  
 _How long had he not seen it?_  
  
The last question bothered him the most and he realized that he simply didn't know. Was it therefore partially his fault? Had his inattention allowed for this to happen? But how could he have known? What Lucifer had done, what Lucifer  _was doing_ , was incomprehensible. How could his brother possibly think that he could truly challenge their Father? How could he think that he even stood a chance? Above and beyond that, how could Lucifer even  _consider_  defying God? Father was all-powerful, Father was all-knowing.  
  
Father  _was_.  
  
Even he himself, first created of all of Father's creations, would never have even thought to contemplate the very action that Lucifer had chosen as his own. That fact stunned him to his very core and it was a struggle in order to even comprehend the fact that it had happened.  _His brother had defied their Father_! If he couldn't feel the Darkness that had entered Heaven for the first time himself, or hear the cries of his brothers and sisters as Lucifer and those who had chosen to join him attacked them, he would never have believed it to be true.  
  
As it was, however, there was little time for disbelief or lamentation as to what it was that might have driven his brother to this vile and despicable action. No, instead, now was the time to react and defend. While he may have no point of reference for what it was that Lucifer was doing, he knew far more than he required of combat and defense in order to knew precisely how to act. He had been created a warrior, his Father's right-hand angel and enforcer. Even before he could feel God reaching out to him, he already knew what it was that he had to do despite how his Grace cried out for him not to. Though he wanted to do nothing more than to hold Lucifer and forgive him, he knew that his brother had broken something today which could not be fixed.  
  
There was angelic blood on Lucifer's hands now, the blood of his own brothers and sisters, and this was one thing which he could not allow. He would always love his brother, but if it came down to a choice between defending the little ones or striking his brother down, he knew in his Grace what it was that he had to do. For if he didn't then Father only knew how many other brothers and sisters that he would lose today. The searing pain of Jophiel's death hit him hard and the next thing that he knew, he stood before Lucifer, their blades crossed as his brother smiled cruelly at him.  
  
"Hello, Michael, I was beginning to think that you wouldn't come," Lucifer greeted him, disengaging and stepping back arrogantly. "Finally decided to deign us with your presence then, hmm?"  
  
"Lucifer," he breathed, the knowledge of what was happening hardly able to prepare him for the mere  _sight_  of it.  
  
All around him his brothers and sisters were fighting for their very lives. Fighting as he had often seen them do before, only this time it wasn't demons that they faced, but rather the fallen amongst them. Their very own brothers and sisters who had chosen jealousy and Darkness over the love of their Father, twisting their very essences in a way that he couldn't face without cringing, his own Grace shrinking inside himself in horror at the mere sight.  
  
"Stop this madness," he continued. "Halt it now before it's too late."  
  
"I think it's already too late, Brother, far too late."  
  
"No it is not, Father is merciful."  
  
"Father is a fool."  
  
"Lucifer!"  
  
"But of course, it is too much to hope for you to understand that. You're nothing but His puppet, His ever faithful and unquestioning servant. His little mindlessly obedient attack dog."  
  
"Brother, I-"  
  
"No, I've heard all that you have to say, Michael. I've had enough of your excuses for Him. I will not bow down to those vile, hairless apes that crawl around in the mud like vermin, and if that is what Father wishes of us, then He is wrong!"  
  
The hateful words were followed by a fierce thrust of Lucifer's sword and he had no choice but to raise his own and react or be skewered. Though it weighed heavy on his heart, he knew that he had to strike his brother down. Between what Lucifer had done to their siblings, Jophiel foremost amongst them, and his brother's stubborn refusal to see reason there was simply no other course of action left available to him though he dearly wished that there was. It was as he was struggling to determine what to do that the answer came to him and he silently thanked Father from whom he knew the knowledge had come much as the idea of locking his brother up like that pained him.  
  
The mere thought of Lucifer trapped down  _there_  alone, away from them and Father's Light and Grace was horrendous and he faltered slightly, allowing his brother to wound him. The physical pain seared him, burning his Grace, but hardly compared to his mental anguish. Why did it have to be him? Why did he have to be the one to do this to his little brother? The thoughts only flitted across his mind for an instant, but the pain they brought was excruciating. The knowledge that Lucifer had brought this not only upon himself but upon them all rallied him though. None of this would be happening if his brother hadn't allowed himself to fall to pride and self-righteousness.  
  
The conviction gave him strength and he struck back, determined not to let Lucifer harm any other of his brothers and sisters who depended on him to protect them. They fought, savagely trading blows, each wounding the other as they flew from one end of the battlefield that Heaven had become to the other, scattering lesser angels in their way like startled birds. Most of the fight was one horrific blur to him of horror, pain and denial until he finally managed to strike his brother down.  
  
The look of disbelief and sheer betrayal on Lucifer's face as he fell tore him up inside and he felt himself crying out along with his little brother.  
  
A cry that Dean echoed as he bolted upright in his bed, the images and emotions of the nightmare still swirling around him even as he finally ripped himself free from their horrid embrace, gasping.  
  
"Dean? Are you alright?"  
  
His brother's voice drifted into the room just as Dean heard the flutter of wings beside him. He threw himself into his bond mate's arms, uncaring of how he'd look when Sam entered the room.  
  
"Hush, Beloved," Castiel whispered as the door to the bedroom flew open.  
  
"Dean?" Sam demanded worriedly before he stopped and blinked. "Oh, sorry."  
  
"I have only just arrived myself," Castiel reassured.  
  
"I see. What happened?"  
  
"Nightmare," Dean mumbled, embarrassed.  
  
"Nightmare? Of Hell?" Sam asked, surprised.  
  
"No."  
  
A slight pressure in his mind and Dean easily allowed his husband in, pushing the memory of the nightmare at Castiel.  
  
Sam frowned. "Then what?"  
  
"Heaven, the Rebellion," Dean replied softly, seeking to distract himself from the memory Castiel was even now watching.  
  
"The rebellion? Wait, you mean  _the_  rebellion? Lucifer's?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
" _How_? You weren't even there!"  
  
"No, but Mike was."  
  
At first his brother frowned but Dean could see the moment that Sam understood what he meant as his little brother's eyes opened wide in shock before worry began to cloud them over.  
  
"That... that's not good, is it?"  
  
"No. Mike and I seem to be becoming far closer than a vessel and an angel normally do and we don't know how or why."  
  
"And you're still doing it? Are you insane, Dean?"  
  
"We have to, Sam. Without me and Mike being together we don't stand a chance."  
  
"A chance of doing what? Dean, we don't even know what we're going to do! How can you know that this is the only way?"  
  
"Because we wouldn't be where we are if I hadn't said yes to Mike. It allowed us to keep Lucifer without a vessel for months. That's months where he couldn't just do whatever the hell he wanted and that we had to focus on finding a way to break the Rite of Contressa. Months of time that we gained to find another way to end this Apocalypse."  
  
"An another way that hasn't been found yet."  
  
"True, but at least we now know what not to try. Though it's not what we wanted, it has allowed us to check a lot of sources which we can now rule out." Sam sighed and Dean could see that his brother had no argument against that. "Look, it's not that I want to end up permanently fused to Mike or anything, but until we find another way to defeat Lucifer or find proof that Mike and I really won't be able to separate, we have no choice but to keep going as we are. Besides at the moment we just seem to be exchanging memories."  
  
"Subconsciously," Castiel stated, coming back to them.  
  
"Well, yeah, obviously."  
  
"And you're okay with this, Cas?" Sam questioned.  
  
"I do not like it, but I know that Michael would not risk Dean if my brother thought that there was another way or that there was a real risk of being permanently fused to Dean by simply taking him as his vessel."  
  
"I still don't like it."  
  
Dean snorted. "Trust me, none of us do."  
  


* * *

  
"Yield! I yield!" Gwen cried out, laughing.  
  
Dean instantly stopped tickling her and released his grip on her wrists. It had started out as a simple sparring match but he'd been unable to resist the opportunity to tease her once he'd had her pinned and she'd refused to admit defeat. In a way he admired Gwen's determination, but on the other hand he didn't think that just giving in whenever he had her pinned would make her learn to do better as quickly as she could. Therefore the tickling was an added incentive, a teaching tool.  
  
At least that was his story and he was sticking to it.  
  
"I have not seen that particular tactic utilized before," Raphael stated.  
  
Gwen yelped and spun around and Dean laughed. It continually amused him to watch his human family be caught off-guard and startled whenever one of his angels showed up as they couldn't hear their arrival like he could. He was pretty sure that his husband and bond brothers also took as much pleasure from this fact as he did, Raphael in particular.  
  
"Don't do that!" Gwen complained, hand at her chest. "You're gonna give me a heart attack doing that one of these days."  
  
"Well then it's a good thing that Raphael's specialty is healing, isn't it?" Dean queried.  
  
"I'd prefer not to have the heart attack in the first place, thank you very much."  
  
Still grinning, Dean turned his attention back to his bond brother. "Tickling isn't really a tactic used on the battlefield, I just couldn't resist doing it as I know that Gwen's particularly sensitive to it."  
  
"Tickling?"  
  
"It's a human thing which you guys can turn on and off at will. Or at least Cas can and he has ever since the first time as he didn't particularly enjoy it."  
  
"You tickled your angel?" Gwen asked, amused.  
  
"Yeah, he'd done it to me accidentally and didn't get my reaction to it."  
  
"So it would not be a new tactic to try then?" Raphael checked.  
  
"Well, you could always try, I suppose, but I wouldn't particularly recommend it. Hell, I don't even know if demons are ticklish so I'd definitely not waste time trying it on the battlefield, but if you've got one at your mercy, I suppose you always could. Though I think the adrenaline might overcome their response to it even if they are ticklish."  
  
"I see."  
  
"So, I guess you're here to give Dean a break?" Gwen asked Raphael.  
  
"Yes, he thought it might be good for you to test your skills against an angelic opponent."  
  
"Lucky me."  
  
Dean smiled at the wariness in his cousin's voice. The fact that she wasn't underestimating his bond brother was an excellent start and he couldn't wait to see how Gwen handled the reality of fighting an angel. He'd taken the time to cover what he knew of angelic strengths and weaknesses with her and knew that it was time for a test run so to speak. There was only so much that theoretical lessons would teach her after all and he knew that she really needed to have some practical experience facing an angel before it happened for real when the angel she stood against would have no compunctions killing her. He'd gotten some wooden sparing sticks to use in lieu of angelic swords and he got those out now before retreating to what he assumed was a safe distance and settling down to watch.  
  
Raphael and Gwen circled each other at first, carefully eyeing up their opponent and Dean was happy to see that his bond brother wasn't merely assuming that he could handle her out right. Though there was little doubt in his mind as to how this would go and who would win, he was glad to see that the archangel had learned not to underestimate humans and take the outcome of a fight with them for granted. It was a mark of how far Raphael had come and he couldn't help but feel proud at that as he knew this particular change in his bond brother was almost entirely down to him. The first few blows exchanged between his cousin and Raphael were quick and experimental, each of them testing the other's reflexes and defenses, before they separated once more and circled each other some more.  
  
"Crap, what'd I miss?" Sam demanded, appearing by his side and dropping to the ground next to him. "Have they been at it long?"  
  
"Nope, they just started," Dean replied, glancing at his brother. "Ready for your turn after this?"  
  
"No, but I doubt I'll feel ready when it becomes real so I guess it doesn't really matter."  
  
"With any luck it won't ever happen."  
  
Sam snorted. "That's not likely."  
  
"I don't know, Lucifer wants you alive and whole, so I can't see Simiel or any other angel with them challenging you to a fight."  
  
"They're not the only angels out there."  
  
The words made Dean frown. "No, but the others are with Heaven and Cas wouldn't allow them to attack you."  
  
"All of them? I mean, really? After everything that's happened do you really think that Cas has control of all of the angels that aren't with Lucifer?"  
  
"Yes, he'd have told me if there was any dissident among the ranks about this. You're probably the only human out there who is safe from every single angel still in existence. I'd revel in that fact if I were you, it's a blessing."  
  
"A blessing, huh?"  
  
"Oh, shut up. You know what I mean."  
  
Sam laughed sharply. "I think you've been spending far too much time around angels."  
  
"Bitch."  
  
"Jerk."  
  


* * *

  
Angels were weird.  
  
Dean wasn't quite sure how or why it was that this fact continued to surprise him, but somehow it did. He'd chosen to read this particular Enochian book himself in light of its subject matter as it was on the fall of angels and he'd thought that his husband and bond brothers might not wish to read that themselves. He'd expected to be insulted from time to time, but the author of this particular book had actually not had a derogatory view of humans. The angel totally hadn't gotten why some of his brothers and sisters might wish to fall, but he hadn't looked down on humans. He just hadn't gotten them. Which was precisely what had led to some rather interesting thoughts and musings on the part of the author.  
  
Still, angels had to be weird to come up with some of this shit.  
  
The description of how it might be to go through life with a giant Grace sized hole within one made Dean smile. It also made him shake his head. It was more amusing than anything else to him that Grace was so central to the author's whole worldview that he couldn't even imagine that a fallen angel who had no memory of their previous life like Anna wouldn't miss it. The author's description of the process of tearing one's Grace out, however, was so detailed and graphic that he was sure that they'd seen one of their siblings do it. Surprisingly the thought saddened him.  
  
"Dean?" Castiel asked, breaking the silence.  
  
"Mm?"  
  
"Can we get caramel sauce?"  
  
"What, now? Bobby and Gwen are probably already on the way back."  
  
"I can get it, but you still have the special sheets, right?"  
  
"Sheets? What she- oh," Dean replied as the penny suddenly dropped.  _Those_  sheets. "Yeah, I still have 'em, but at home."  
  
It wasn't until he'd said it that Dean realized what he was gonna say. Home. He hadn't thought about it for a while, but it really had been. It's where he and Castiel had settled and accumulated their stuff. Out of nowhere he had a sudden fierce longing for their kalsika and the Andaluzyian crystal. Perhaps he'd have to go back and get them.  
  
A glance up and Dean froze at the expression on Sam's face, stuck halfway between disgusted and stricken. The hurt in his brother's eyes twisted something within him but he forced it aside. If Sam hadn't considered his apartment with Jess home then he'd eat his shoes. As for the other, well if his brother wasn't disgusted it wouldn't be nearly as much fun to tease him even if that hadn't been his angel's intention in this particular instance.   
  
"Whose computer is that, Cas?" Sam inquired, in what Dean could instantly tell was a desperate attempt to change the subject.  
  
"Dean's," Castiel replied, not looking up from the screen.  
  
"Dean's?" Sam repeated, turning to look at him in surprise. "You got a laptop?"  
  
"Well, yeah, it's just so much easier to find hunts online that to wade through dozens of newspapers."  
  
Not one to let his little brother off lightly if at all possible, Dean thought of a way to turn the conversation back round on itself. Unbeknownst to what he was doing, his husband had given him the perfect opportunity to needle Sam some more and make his brother squirm. So how to follow up on it? He was still trying to decide when another thought occurred to him.  
  
"What are you looking at anyway, Cas?" Dean asked.  
  
"Fan fiction."  
  
"Fan fiction?" Sam questioned. "Oh, God, is that the slash thing?"  
  
"Yes," Castiel confirmed easily.  
  
Dean dropped his head to his book with a loud thud. It was as much to hide his smile as his embarrassment. God but he loved his angel even if he couldn't figure out how his mind worked sometimes because, really, fan fiction?  
  
The moment his husband's head tilted, Dean knew it would be a good even before the foreign arousal hit him.  
  
"What?" Dean asked, completely unable to resist.  
  
"This is not physically possible."  
  
"What's not physically possible?" Sam questioned, getting up.  
  
Dean stared at his brother in disbelief. Surely Sam couldn't think that this would be something unrelated to the fan fiction?  
  
"Dean can't bend like that," Castiel stated just as Sam looked over his shoulder.  
  
"Oh, God, my eyes!" Sam cried out, jerking back. "What the hell is that?"  
  
"Fan art."  
  
"Fan art?" Dean questioned, getting up to see for himself.  
  
"Hm."  
  
"Why the hell did that look so much like you guys?" Sam demanded from across the room.  
  
"Look like us?"  
  
"It would seem that Rebecca Rosen had some nature of recording device in the house the last time that we were there as her site has photos of us and Michael."  
  
"What?" Dean exclaimed, cringing as he leaned over for a look.  
  
Castiel was right, the position he'd been contorted into for the drawing  _was_  impossible, but it was surprisingly hot nonetheless. Plus whoever had done the drawing had been quite generous with his proportions, quite generous indeed. He could only assume that his husband's proportions were equally well endowed but Castiel's cock wasn't actually visible, buried as it was in his ass.  
  
"Shall we do the physically possible equivalent of this position?" Castiel whispered in his ear.  
  
"Hell, yeah," Dean replied, eyes flashing to his angel hungrily.


	181. Chapter 180

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel collects the wedding rings he ordered and shows them to his bond mate.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
Castiel felt a strange and mostly foreign sense of exhilaration when he entered Rajendro's Jewelers once more. Today was the day that they'd said that the wedding rings would be ready and he couldn't wait to see them. It was almost as bad as when he'd been closing in on the location of the perfect Andaluzyian crystal in order to complete the bonding. The knowledge of how much this meant to his bond mate had infected him with more nervousness and exhilaration than he'd thought possible considering these wedding bands wouldn't actually affect their bond itself. Still, they meant a lot to Dean and so therefore they meant a lot to him.  
  
In addition to that original sentiment, Castiel had also come to find himself liking the idea more and more in his own right. He'd been paying more attention to human rings now and started spotting wedding bands on the hands of the majority of adults. He'd also seen how those without them were approached more often in bars and the knowledge that giving Dean such a ring would keep others from thinking his bond mate available thrilled him. He was well aware of how beautiful his hunter was and saw how people looked at Dean. While he would never prevent his bond mate from interacting with people, he did want them to know that his human was unavailable. The thought of visibly wearing Dean's claim had also become as much of an attraction to him as the thought of his bond mate wearing his. Though he didn't garner as much attention as his hunter, he did attract some in his own right and this would help him avoid that.  
  
"Ah, hello Mr. Singer," Pradeep greeted when Castiel stepped into the store.  
  
The greeting confused Castiel for a moment before he recollected that the check which he'd used to pay for the wedding bands and customization had been in Bobby's name and contained his friend's signature.  
  
"Hello, Pradeep," Castiel replied. "Are the wedding rings ready?"  
  
"Yes, Sir, I have them right here."  
  
Castiel felt another flare of excitement and anticipation as he stepped forwards up to the counter. Pradeep had just pulled out a small black velvet bag with a knotted drawstring. As he reached for the bag, he found that his hands were shaking slightly. He managed to undo the knots and spilled the two rings into his palm. His first impression was that they looked as traditional as he'd wanted them to which pleased him greatly. Then he saw the writing and he felt his vessel's breath catch in his throat.  
  
Enochian had always seemed an incredibly elegant script to Castiel and Rajendro's Jewelers specialist had done a phenomenal job of copying his writing. It was elegant and discrete, but the engraving did catch the light and so would be seen without being gaudy or detracting from the main wedding band itself. He knew that to most people it would seem to be nothing more than a series of fanciful loops and swirls, but his bond mate and siblings would know what it really was and that was precisely how he wanted it to be.  
  
"Are they satisfactory, Mr. Singer?" Pradeep inquired.  
  
"They're perfect," Castiel replied, tearing his gaze away. "Thank you."  
  
"Would you like them wrapped in a box?"  
  
"No, this bag is perfect."  
  
Carefully, Castiel returned the two rings to the bag and tied a knot in it once more to ensure that he didn't lose them. Remembering his audience, he put the bag into the inner pocket of his coat alongside his fake FBI identification and the driver's license that Dean had made for him.  
  
"Is there anything else that you desire, Mr. Singer?" Pradeep asked.  
  
"No, not at this time, thank you."  
  
With that Castiel exited the store, his wings shifting restlessly as he resisted the temptation to just take to flight then and there. The nervous excitement was foreign to him and he had a hard enough time maintaining his outer calm as far as his vessel was concerned, doing the same for his wings was simply impossible. As soon as he was out of sight of all nearby humans, he took to flight, heading straight for his bond mate.  
  
"Damnit, Dean!" Sam exclaimed just as Castiel landed.  
  
He had done so as close to his hunter as he could without startling Dean, so when Castiel saw something flying through the air towards them, he reacted instinctively. With a thought and a twist of his Grace, he sent it flying back towards its source where it hit a startled Sam full in the face and knocked him off his chair. Besides him his hunter blinked and looked at him before roaring with laughter. From the beautiful way that his bond mate's soul sparked and shone, he could tell that Dean was in a spectacularly good mood and he smiled, knowing that he was about to make it even better.  
  
"Cas!" Sam complained.  
  
"Sorry, Sam," Castiel apologized, having since realized that the object was merely a pillow. "I saw something coming at myself and Dean and reacted protectively on instinct."  
  
"You were awesome, Cas!" Dean proclaimed, all but bouncing around him.  
  
"If you knock one more book to the ground, ya idjit, your angel will really need to protect you from the rock salt I'll try to fill your ass with!" Bobby threatened.  
  
"He's been a bit giddy," Gwen explained at Castiel's puzzled look. "You know, just a little."  
  
"More like he's on a sugar high from Hell," Sam muttered. "God only knows what he ate."  
  
"I told you, Sammy, I haven't had anything," Dean replied happily.  
  
The use of 'Sammy' made Castiel frown as he had noticed that his bond mate had not used that nickname often (or at least not while in his presence) for his brother since their last big confrontation after the first part of the ritual. Now that he looked again, his human was in a really  _unusual_  and almost manic good mood and some of his own vanished as he wondered if something was wrong.  
  
"I'm just in a good mood, what's wrong with that?" Dean questioned. "Besides, I'm not the only one, Cas is hyper as well."  
  
The disbelieving looks directed his way told Castiel that he'd been mostly successful in keeping his vessel under control, but he couldn't hide his mood from his bond mate. Not only could Dean see his wings, but his hunter would also be able to feel his good mo-  
  
 _Oh_.  
  
"My apologies," Castiel told the others as he pulled Dean close with his errant wings, knowing the contact with his bond mate would calm them as well as Dean. "I believe that this may be my fault."  
  
"Eh?" Bobby inquired.  
  
"Our bond is transmitting my own feelings of extreme elation to Dean, thereby affecting his mood."  
  
"It can do that?" Gwen questioned, fascinated.  
  
"The bond allows us to be aware of each other's feelings and moods, so if Dean were already in a good mood, mine would have served to enhance it."  
  
"Giving him the equivalent of a sugar high, great," Sam concluded. "Would you mind taking the energizer bunny somewhere else before he drives us all mad?"  
  
"You're the energizer bunny," Dean retorted. "And just for the record, this bond feedback is awesome!"  
  
"I think anything would be awesome for you just now, Dean," Gwen laughed.  
  
Castiel found himself unable not to laugh when his bond mate stuck his tongue out in reply. "Come on, Barney, let's go before they kill you."  
  
"He-" Dean's protest was cut off as he took to flight. "-y! Dude, I'm  _not_  Barney. That's not even funny."  
  
"Your definition of Barney was an overactive, supernaturally happy nuisance."  
  
"Bite me, Cas."  
  
His bond mate's dramatic turn and intended exit was ruined when Dean caught sight of their surroundings. Castiel had flown them out to the middle of the Sahara as his bond mate had a love for dark open skies where his hunter could see the stars. That right now, completely unimpeded by any light pollution whatsoever was effective to render Dean speechless. With a smile he stepped forward, wrapped his arms around his bond mate's waist and rested his chin on Dean's shoulder, glancing up at the thick band of the Milky Way. The story behind its name intrigued him and made him marvel at humanity's creativity.  
  
"Cas?"  
  
"Yes, Beloved?"  
  
"Do I want to know where in the world we are?"  
  
"The Sahara."  
  
"Ah, of course, the Sahara, now why didn't I think of that?"  
  
"Behave," Castiel laughed, squeezing lightly.  
  
Dean barked a laugh before turning in his grip and shoving him lightly in the chest. Castiel obliged his bond mate and released him, stepping back. When the action was repeated he did the same until he was at the base of a large sand dune and there he went down at his hunter's urging, his human following him down to straddle his thighs.  
  
"Hey, Cas," Dean whispered before kissing him.  
  
Castiel moaned his approval and brought his hands up to frame his bond mate's face. The energetic excitement from before was gone now, replaced instead with love and tenderness. After a few kisses, Dean pulled back and he reluctantly allowed him to do so.  
  
"So, you were in a good mood earlier," Dean said.  
  
"Mm, I have good reason to be," Castiel replied.  
  
"Yeah? Well I've got something that will make your day even better."  
  
"Really? I have something for you as well."  
  
"For me?" Dean questioned, perking up even more.  
  
"You first," Castiel smiled, curious as to what his bond mate had gotten him.  
  
With a slight shift to be able to reach his back pocket, Dean pulled out a plastic card and handed it to him. Recognizing it as a driver's license, Castiel was about to ask why he was getting another one when he caught sight of the name on it.  
  
Castiel Winchester.  
  
"Given what the Vatican did with my FBI file, I realized that it wouldn't be an issue anymore for you to have my name," Dean explained. "So what do you say, Mr. Winchester?"  
  
"I love it, thank you, Dean."  
  
"Just remember to use the old one if you need one because you're in trouble for something, okay?"  
  
"Of course," Castiel promised, kissing his hunter.  
  
Normally Castiel would have been more than happy to continue just kissing his human like this for a while, but now was hardly a normal time. Besides, in addition to his own excitement which he now realized that his bond mate was picking up on and sharing, Dean was also worked up with anticipation for his present. He made a mental note to pick his hunter up something more often that wasn't food or drink. Though he knew that his human enjoyed those greatly, it was clear that Dean treasured other little presents as well and it was such a simple way to please his bond mate.  
  
This time it was Castiel who pulled back, but only far enough so that they could rest their foreheads together and he didn't draw his gaze from Dean's eyes. They just sat like that for a moment, his hunter's arms settling around his shoulders and he similarly bracketed his human with his wings, cutting them off from the outside world. When he finally moved again, it was to reach into his inner coat pocket and pull out the little black velvet bag.  
  
"Jewellery?" Dean asked, bemused though his bond mate's eyes flickered to the bracelet that his hunter constantly wore and which was the last piece of jewellery that he'd obtained for Dean.  
  
"It was brought to my attention that I had been remiss in not considering all the rituals of human marriage and that there was something which you would desire," Castiel replied, watching his human's eyes go wide even as Dean's fingers froze in untying the knot.  
  
"Cas?"  
  
"Here, let me, Beloved."  
  
With that, Castiel took the bag back and finished undoing the knot, opening the bag. He then took one of Dean's hands and spilled the two wedding bands into it. His bond mate's breath hitched as Dean caught sight of them. For a moment nothing happened and the silence of the desert surrounded them before it was broken by a shaky exhale as Dean reached up with his other hand and touched the two rings. The veritable maelstrom of emotions that suddenly swirled to life within his human and spilled out over their bond was more than he could follow, but he could grasp enough of it to know that even Bobby couldn't have realized how much this meant to his beloved.  
  
More than enough to do the one thing which Castiel had once believed to be truly impossible; namely rending Dean utterly speechless.  
  
Words were completely unnecessary though with their bond and his hunter then strengthened that existing connection by looking him straight in the eye. Castiel had always known that he could easily get lost in those eyes, but now it was even more true than ever before. All of Dean's normal defenses were gone and he could see everything that his bond mate felt shining in their depths. Finding that words had left him as well, he reached back across their bond with his Grace, twining himself even further with Dean's soul at the same time that he closed the physical distance between them.  
  
This kiss conveyed all that they couldn't say and yet it paled in comparison to the touch of their true selves, Grace to soul. Castiel easily lost himself in that embrace, not caring if the boundaries between them were to blur as he could think of nothing better than to truly merge with his beloved. He had no idea how much time had passed before they finally separated but he found that he'd been supplying his hunter with enough air to survive so that they'd not needed to break their kiss. The sky was still dark, though, so he assumed that it couldn't have been more than a few hours at most.  
  
"Thanks, Cas," Dean murmured completely unnecessarily, but Castiel knew that it made his human happy to do so, therefore he didn't comment.  
  
Whether by fate or chance, his bond mate picked up his own ring first and Castiel watched as Dean rotated it so that he could read the words engraved on the outside of it.  
  
 _Dean & Castiel. Forever. Beloved._  
  
Separating each part was the Enochian sigil that combined love, protection and faithfulness. On the inside Castiel had gotten the date of their bonding engraved, also in Enochian, as a tribute to the human traditions that often accompanied the exchange of wedding rings. He pulled his human closer as he felt the trembling of his soul and realized just how open and vulnerable Dean was at this moment. He savored the gift of it and knew that there was no one around who could harm his hunter or take advantage of this rare occurrence, but it was the very rarity of the act itself which made him so protective of it. That and the knowledge that Dean did it only because his hunter trusted him implicitly and knew himself to be perfectly safe here and now at this moment with him.  
  
Then his bond mate put down the first ring and picked up Castiel's own, slowly rotating it in his fingers to read the engraving.  
  
 _Dean & Castiel. Forever. Cas._  
  
"Cas?" Dean questioned softly, looking back up at him in confusion.  
  
"It may have been a simple moniker for you in the beginning, but it was the first time that anyone called me by anything other than my real name. Well, aside from demons and they don't count," Castiel replied, relieved to see the tiny flicker of doubt vanish at his joke, he was clearly getting better at that skill. "To me it symbolizes everything that has happened to us and what you mean to me. And no matter how many other people use the nickname, it will always belong to you."  
  
Something odd flickered across the bond which Castiel couldn't identify, but from the way his hunter's soul reacted, he knew how profound it was. How vulnerable it made his bond mate in a way. Then Dean was taking his left hand and all other thoughts fled as he focused his attention completely on his human, not wanting to miss a moment of this.  
  
"We both know that words aren't my thing," Dean began. "So I'm not even going to try and give some big speech about this and us since the bond tells you everything you need to know anyway. Instead I just wanna say thanks, Cas, for this and everything. I love you."  
  
Simple as they were, those words combined with the sheer depth of Dean's feelings rendered Castiel himself speechless once more as his bond mate took the little gold band and carefully slid it into its rightful place on his finger. He just looked at it for a moment, marvelling at the fact that he now had a wedding band of his own and still distantly surprised at how much some sculpted precious metal could mean to him, before he remembered that it was now his turn. Gently he took the other ring from Dean and looked up at his hunter's face as he took hold of Dean's left hand.  
  
"Like you, words have not always been my best allies- especially not down here on Earth- so I shall stick with just the ones that I chose before. Forever, Beloved. Whether together or separately, they convey everything that you are to me and always will be," Castiel declared softly. "I hope that these rings will symbolize that to you and everyone else."  
  
As always, Castiel then did what he knew to be best and followed his bond mate's lead, pushing the wedding band onto Dean's finger. He took a moment to just savor the sight before his human reached out and took his hand, entwining their fingers and leaning close. Not wanting to relinquish the connection, he wrapped Dean in his arms and wings before leaning back onto the slope of the sand dune behind him, smiling gently at his bond mate's halfhearted protest of "Sand's gonna get everywhere." Dean wouldn't be who he was without at least some attempt at deflection of what his hunter would once have viewed as the mother of all chick flick moments.  
  
No, there were some things which Castiel never wanted to see changed about his beloved and Dean's spitfire nature was most definitely one of them. It was simply far too adorable. Not that he'd ever tell his bond mate that.


	182. Chapter 181

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raphael drops by for a visit while Dean's in the shower.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
Dean was just finishing up a quick shower when the sound of wings reached him over the noise of the water and his own soft humming. He smiled, washed the remaining shampoo from his hair and opened his eyes to look at his angel.  
  
"Hey, C-" Dean began and then broke off abruptly with a startled sound as he realized that it was not, in fact, his husband standing there but rather one of his bond brothers.  
  
"Raph! What the hell?"  
  
Silently Dean cursed the fact that this particular shower had the clear plastic sides instead of an opaque curtain like most motels had. It meant that he had to open the shower door and actually move  _closer_  to the archangel in order to be able to grab his towel so that he could cover himself. The whole time he was acutely aware of Raphael's eyes on him despite the fact that this particular bond brother of his should already know to look away. Why the archangel wasn't doing it he didn't know and, to make matters worse, he got the impression that Raphael was actually deliberately copping a peek.  
  
It was amazing how uncomfortable it made Dean seeing as he'd never been at all shy about his body. It really was kinda amazing how differences in someone else's attitude could affect his own.  
  
"I still fail to understand," Raphael stated, looking up at him in confusion when Dean was sure that his towel would stay put.  
  
It confirmed his suspicion that the archangel's eyes had been trained lower before, but Dean was still completely mystified as to what had triggered this strange behavior. "Understand what? What's going on here, Raph? What are you doing here?"  
  
"Attempting to understand."  
  
"Yeah, that much I got. But  _what_  is it that you want to understand?"  
  
"Sexual attraction."  
  
Dean sputtered, eyes widening in shock. Sexual attraction? It was even further confirmation of his earlier suspicions about his bond brother's wandering eyes and he really should have known better than to just dismiss the thought. Sure, none of the angels other than Castiel or Gabriel had shown an interest in sex but they were still angels. Which meant that they had little to no concept of what was proper or was an acceptable human behavior and so if they'd ever gotten an idea like this in their heads, of course they'd act just like Raphael had done here. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose and reminded himself that his bond brother hadn't been moved by the looked he'd copped. It really was no different than having been viewed by a doctor.  
  
" _Why_  are you trying to understand sexual attraction?" Dean asked as soon as he was sure that his voice would come out steady.  
  
"Because you and Castiel are so happy," Raphael replied.  
  
The response made Dean blink. Oh, he had to admit that he hadn't seen that one coming. "That's because we're in love, Raph, not because we're sexually attracted to each other."  
  
"I know, but Kelly said that love is often preluded by sexual attraction."  
  
Okay, Dean could definitely see that, but he still made a mental note to give Kelly a call. Telling angels about humanity or answering their questions was one thing, but it had to be done carefully or it would result in precisely this type of scenario. He shuddered to think about what might have happened if his bond brother had chosen some random human to test his new knowledge on. The thought that the archangel could have popped in on Sam, though, made him smile.  _That_  particular image was quite pleasing indeed.  
  
"So what, you decided to see if you found me arousing?" Dean asked, more amused now than anything else.  
  
"Kelly said that I should try it with people that I knew well already as I might not realize my existing feelings for them," Raphael explained.  
  
Yeah, Dean was  _so_  having a chat with Kelly. He was sure that she hadn't intended for the archangel to seek out him or any bond brother, but at the same time what she'd said should never have been suggested. Not to an angel whose grasp on the acceptable as far as human privacy went was still tenuous at the very best.  
  
"Look, Raph, Kelly didn't mean me."  
  
"But I don't know anyone else but you and Kelly."  
  
"Which is why it's good you came to me instead of someone random, but you still can't do this, Raph."  
  
Raphael frowned. "Because it violates your privacy?"  
  
"Yeah, exactly."  
  
"So why did Kelly say that I had to see someone naked?"  
  
"Because she doesn't understand how angels think and didn't know that you'd take it this way. She probably meant for you to ask someone that you know or to go out and pick up a girl or guy and see them naked that way."  
  
"But I wouldn't know them."  
  
"For humans that doesn't always matter."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because we like sex and in those instances, sex is the point, not the emotional relationship."  
  
"You used to do this."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
That seemed to give his bond brother something to think about and Dean couldn't help but wonder what kind of conversation Raphael and Kelly had been having to lead to the whole discussion about sexual attraction. He wasn't entirely sure that he wanted to know.  
  
"I don't understand that," Raphael stated.  
  
"That's because you're an angel and it's not in your nature to do that naturally."  
  
"Gabriel did it. Or so I've been told."  
  
"From what I saw, you're definitely right, but I have no idea how long it took him to get there. It could have been centuries."  
  
As his bond brother pondered that, Dean considered his own situation. He'd really like to get dressed but it didn't seem like Raphael was going to leave any time soon and he felt that the archangel had already seen enough of him for one day as far as he was concerned.  
  
"Hey, Raph, do you mind mojoing me dry and into my clothes?" Dean asked, indicating the boxers, jeans and shirt that he'd put out on the closed toilet lid before he'd gotten into the shower.  
  
Raphael blinked, glanced at him and then the clothes, and the next thing that Dean knew, he was dried and dressed.  
  
"Thanks," Dean said, grabbing his hair gel and moving to stand before the mirror.  
  
There was a time when Raphael's silence and unwavering attention as he quickly did his hair would have annoyed him, but now Dean found it companionable. It was actually a really good thing that angelic vessels were essentially frozen in time when they were taken by their angel because otherwise he dreaded to think what state that they'd be in. His bond brother's fascination with such a simple act said all that was necessary as far as the archangel's knowledge of human hygiene was concerned.  
  
"Dean?" Bobby called from the bedroom. "You here, boy?"  
  
"Yeah, just a minute," Dean replied.  
  
Pleased with his hair, Dean left the bathroom, his bond brother right on his heels. He didn't think of how that looked until Bobby did a double take, looking from him to Raphael and back before raising an eyebrow in question.  
  
"Don't ask," Dean said, before elaborating when the older hunter kept looking pointedly at him. "Angels."  
  
"Oh, right," Bobby responded, pulling a face.  
  
Dean could tell from his friend's expression that Bobby was thinking something along the lines of better you than me. Yet somehow, despite his earlier embarrassment, he found that he wouldn't give it up for anything. For all of his little oddities, Raphael was family and he'd take all of his, or Michael's, quirks any day over more normal or human in-laws. They were his angels and that made it all okay even if they flew in on him naked in the shower because it wasn't done out of any maliciousness or desire to embarrass him but rather out of a genuine, if misguided, attempt to learn and understand.  
  
"Did you need something, Bobby?" Dean questioned, grabbing an overshirt and pulling it on.  
  
"I've been thinking about that hunt in Arizona."  
  
"The one with the ra-ra?"  
  
"What's a ra-ra?" Raphael inquired with a frown.  
  
"It's Dean nickname for the creature we hunted as he can't pronounce it's real name," Bobby explained. "He means a rakjvora."  
  
"You encountered a rakjvora? Those are extremely rare and almost impossible to kill."  
  
"I know, we had a hell of a time finding anything on it. Luckily we weren't trying to kill it but rather put it back into the jewel it had been imprisoned in before."  
  
"You should have called us," Raphael stated, turning to Dean. "We would gladly have helped."  
  
"Trust me, if we'd needed you I wouldn't have hesitated to call," Dean replied.  
  
"Before you needed the help or once you'd realized that you were in danger?"  
  
Bobby laughed at the question and Dean glared at his friend, but it was tempered with the knowledge that his bond brother had hit the nail on the head so to speak. Didn't mean he had to admit to it though.  
  
"We were aware of the danger," Dean countered. "One of the two hunters who'd gone after it originally was already dead and the other in the hospital. We'd taken precautions accordingly, not that they were necessary."  
  
That seemed to disturb the archangel and Dean couldn't help but wonder what the ra-ra would have been like if it had chosen to fight.  
  
"It didn't attack you?" Raphael questioned in disbelief.  
  
"No, he took one look at Dean here and voluntarily ran at the jewel," Bobby explained.  
  
"Well, it wasn't quite that easy," Dean argued. "He didn't run until he caught my scent. At first he just stood there and looked at me."  
  
The shock on Raphael's face startled Dean but before he could ask about it, Michael and Castiel were suddenly in the room.  
  
"What's wrong, Brother?" Michael asked.  
  
"A rakjvora ran from Dean," Raphael responded. "And Dean could see it well enough to detect what it was doing."  
  
"What? Why didn't you tell me, Dean?" Castiel demanded.  
  
Dean blinked, surprised at his husband's fierceness. "I didn't really think anything of it."  
  
"I did," Bobby stated. "I've had a look at some more books and I can't find any other kind of precedent for this."  
  
"That is because there isn't one," Michael said.  
  
"You know why it reacted like this?" Dean inquired.  
  
"I can guess enough. It would have run because of Castiel's scent on you as we hunted down most of the rakjvoras shortly after they were first created by one of our fallen sisters."  
  
"Castiel's scent?" Bobby questioned, voice going surprisingly high.  
  
"Yeah, from the wing oil which is a critical component of angelic relationships," Dean supplied helpfully.  
  
"No, no details! I don't want to know. I'm sorry I asked."  
  
Only the fact that he really didn't want the older hunter thinking about him and Castiel too much kept Dean quiet. Otherwise it would have been far too tempting to keep going as an uncomfortable Bobby was far too much fun to leave alone under normal circumstances.  
  
"Okay, that explains why the damn thing ran," Bobby continued, looking back at Michael. "But how was Dean able to see it? Sam and I most definitely couldn't and nor could my friend who'd hunted it first."  
  
"That is less clear," Michael admitted. "Dean's bond with Castiel should not account for this type of effect."  
  
"No, but Death's influence could," Castiel stated just before Dean felt an arm slip around his waist, pulling him close to his husband.  
  
"Death?" Dean demanded, a flicker of fear coming to life within him. "What do you mean?"  
  
"Hm, that is an interesting theory," Raphael commented.  
  
"And entirely possible," Michael agreed.  
  
"Guys?" Dean pushed. "What are you talking about?"  
  
"Do you remember what I said about your soul after Death saved you?" Castiel asked.  
  
Dean frowned at the reminder but forced himself to focus on the aftermath of the incident rather than what had happened itself. "Yeah, sure, you said that it resonated on a different frequency than before."  
  
" _What?_ " Bobby thundered. "He changed you?"  
  
"Death is not God," Michael informed the older hunter calmly. "As such his work would be slightly different to Father's. Dean's soul is the same as before, but it couldn't have come through the ordeal without some slight change. I hadn't thought that it would result in any observable changes, but it would appear that it has allowed Dean to peer beyond the veil more than a normal human can. Rakjvoras are no longer entirely of this world and so are not visible to those restricted solely to this plane like humans are."  
  
"But it's not going to have any bad effects, right?" Dean checked.  
  
"No, Little One, not for someone already aware of the supernatural and who is knowledgeable of what is out there and therefore knows what it is that they are seeing."  
  
Oh, that was a good point. Dean couldn't imagine what this would do to someone who didn't have a clue of what went bump in the night. It was a surprising insight for his bond brother to have and he was quite proud of Michael for having it and he tried shoving that feeling at the bond he shared with the archangel, not sure if it would work or not. The shift of his bond brother's stance and the way Michael looked at him told him that it had.  
  
"Awesome," Dean replied. "Now, Mike, I don't suppose that you've gotten any further cracking that code, have you?"  
  
As he said it, Dean reached out to his bond brother. It was an unconscious gesture that he did all the time with each of his brothers so he wouldn't have thought anything of it even if he had realized that he was doing it. As it was, though, it wasn't until he heard Bobby's gasp and noticed that his friend was looking at his hand that he became aware of doing it. Once he did, he realized that he'd done it with his left hand, thus making his new wedding band quite visible.  
  
"You did it," Bobby whispered, looking at Castiel. "You got the rings."  
  
Dean's eyes widened in surprise before he realized that he really should have guessed. His husband had said that the issue of the wedding bands had been brought to his attention and the only two people who Castiel knew that could have realized what wedding rings symbolized to him were Bobby and Sam. Somehow he couldn't picture his brother having had that particular insight, let alone having it now or telling his angel about it. Sam still seemed far too uncomfortable about the whole him and Cas thing for that. Which was kinda sad as he really wanted to be able to have both of his families at once instead of having to choose between them. Perhaps it was time for another intervention with Sam now that his brother'd had some time coming to terms with the fact that he was inherently like Lucifer on some level.  
  
Personally Dean could understand why it was hard to come to grips with and his own mind still rebelled on some level to the idea. This was  _Sam_  after all, the little brother who he'd carried out of one burning building, dragged out of another one and all but raised. So, yeah, if there was one thing that he didn't want to do, it was to admit that his Sammy could be like the devil. It was part of why he'd shot Gabriel down so hard and fast the first time the archangel had tried to make them see that essential truth. After all of the time that he'd spent with Michael, though, and the evidence his little brother had so unwittingly provided himself, it was just no longer possible to deny it not matter how much he wanted to. Well that and his own new inability to deceive himself seemed to extend to being unable to excuse away all of Sam's actions as he'd done as a matter of course in the past.  
  
"Yes," Castiel confirmed needlessly, drawing Dean out of his thoughts.  
  
"Let me see," Bobby demanded.  
  
For a moment, Dean felt a flash of doubt, the wording on the rings almost too personal to share, but then he remembered that it was all written in Enochian and while the older hunter had learned some of the basics of the angelic language, he was pretty sure that 'beloved' was not part of that. Which left him experiencing a kind of giddy excitement that made him feel a bit like a school girl before her first date. He ignored it, though, as part of the whole point of getting wedding rings was so that others would see them. None of which meant that he couldn't try and hide his feelings, however from the amusement that he detected coming from Michael, he knew that he wasn't succeeding very well.  
  
" _Only from me and Castiel, Little One,_ " Michael whispered directly into his mind. " _For the others your macho image is preserved._ "  
  
" _Bite me, Mike,_ " Dean retorted, wondering where the hell his friend had picked up the word macho. He might just have to have a talk with Gwen as well as Kelly, since it definitely sounded like one of his cousin's words.  
  
" _No, that's my job,_ " Castiel mock protested.  
  
" _Funny, you two are freaking hilarious. And shouldn't Mike really not be able to do this? I want a way to keep him out._ "  
  
" _We have had other research priorities,_ " Michael replied.  
  
Right, as if Dean was going to believe that. The archangel still had a ways to go if his friend thought that he'd fall for it while knowing how unprecedented this type of connection was between an angel and their vessel.  
  
"Is that Enochian?" Bobby inquired, completely oblivious to the other conversation taking place on a level he couldn't hear.  
  
"Yeah," Dean confirmed, throat dry as he looked at the writing himself.  
  
His husband really had managed to pick the perfect words.  
  
"Good choice," Bobby said, looking at Castiel with suspiciously wet eyes. "Now I've got to get back to the research, unlike some idjits."  
  
"Hey, I've done more reading on this subject than you!" Dean protested.  
  
Bobby huffed but didn't complain, looking instead back at the rings. "You going to tell Sam? It would be better than letting him discover it by seeing the wedding bands."  
  
Crap, that was a very good point and one that Dean hadn't even thought of yet. The thing was, though the rings were new and meant more to him than he could say, he didn't consider his relationship with Castiel now any different from before. They were already bonded and the wedding bands were merely a symbol of that, not some new and deeper meaning or anything. But his brother might not see it that way as this brought the whole thing down to a human level that might be more understandable to Sam. He was pretty sure that his brother had been thinking, or at least starting to think, of asking Jess to marry him, so there was that whole issue to complicate things as well. He was the first person to understand just how greatly bad memories could impact one's perspective on things.  
  
"Yes, we'll tell him," Castiel said.  
  
"Actually, that's probably something I should be do alone," Dean stated. "Sam would take it better coming from me and besides, I think it's high time Sam and I talked about a few things we've danced about so far."


	183. Chapter 182

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam finds himself whisked away by his brother on an outing, the purpose of which he doesn't know.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
At Stanford, Sam had discovered that an early morning run of his own choosing had always left him feeling invigorated and ready to face the day and whatever it brought with it. At the time he'd willfully ignored the fact that his father had always tried to get him running in the mornings and that he'd resisted, claiming that he needed his sleep in order to be properly rested for school. Now he could admit that he'd done so simply because he'd been ordered to do it and he'd always resisted his father's orders on principle alone since he was about eight or nine. Well that and Dad had always couched it in hunting terms, saying that it was good for his stamina and general fitness which would make him a better hunter. Therefore he'd resisted it all the more as he hadn't wanted to be a hunter.  
  
Now, though, Sam knew better than to think that he could just will things to be the way that he wanted them to be. Well that and he'd been forced to confront the fact that his resistance hadn't been some noble act of defiance against an overbearing and tyrannical authority figure, but rather the temper tantrums of a spoiled brat who couldn't get his own way. It had been a hard pill to swallow, especially as he'd been so sure that he'd been right, but he'd finally gotten to the point where he could admit the truth. Sure, his father could have handled things better- all of them could have really- but that was no excuse for the way that he'd behaved.  
  
Some of his good mood was already fading by the time that Sam got out of the shower, but that was all but inevitable these days. Not only had there been a sudden, sharp increase in disasters and other, supernatural, occurrences the past few days- most likely indicating that Lucifer was getting warmed up once more- but his newfound self-awareness was also never far from his thoughts. It made for a depressing time but he'd finally clued in to his pattern of handling things in the past and he was determined to break that particular vicious cycle.  
  
He'd never really thought about it before, but Sam now realized that while he'd always felt guilty after he'd done something wrong before, he'd never actually learned the most important lesson from each of those experiences. Namely to  _listen_  to other people when they voiced concerns about what he was doing, his brother in particular. He could now see how he'd mostly just brushed those right off, so sure that he knew what he was doing and, more importantly, that  _he_  was  _right_. The sheer arrogance of it all made him want to curl up and disappear and he wasn't sure how the others could still stand to be around him, especially since it seemed that he  _just didn't learn_. Yeah, sure, Dean had clocked him for it more than once, but it was the least of what he deserved, especially from his big brother. Just how often had Dean been proven right and yet he'd kept right on ignoring him?  
  
When he'd finally dared to examine why that was, Sam had been horrified at the overwhelming sense of superiority that he felt towards his brother. That a large part of it was due to Lucifer's influence, he had absolutely no doubt, after all what was one mud monkey to the devil no matter how stubborn or annoying? But now he also knew better than to blame it all on having shared headspace with the Morning Star. On at least some level, he'd felt that superiority on his own. It had taken a while to suss out as there was also still a part of him that would always look up to his big brother in awe, but he'd finally managed to do it.  
  
It came down to intelligence. He'd always put a lot of stock into thinking that intelligence was the most important aspect of a person and somewhere along the line, Sam now realized, he'd come to equate intelligence with formal education or schooling. And that right there had been how his superiority complex had gotten started because he had always loved school while Dean had not. Not only had his big brother not liked it, but Dean had outright shunned it, going so far as to drop out as soon as he was able to without raising any suspicion. In his snobby youth, he'd seen that as practically the ultimate failing. It wasn't until years later when he'd first met Jess that he'd ever even heard of how the schooling system failed many nontraditional students, the standardized system simply being unable to cope with those who learned differently.  
  
At the time Sam hadn't equated that with what had happened to his brother and, indeed, he still wasn't sure if Dean fell into that particular category. Regardless, he could now see that his brother's decision and general academic performance hadn't had anything to do with Dean's level of intelligence, but rather about how his big brother had viewed school and the amount of time and effort that Dean had put into it. Not very much, but not because his brother was incapable of doing so, but rather because Dean'd had other priorities and something had needed to give and his brother had chosen his formal education to be that thing.  
  
It put an entirely different spin on a lot of events that Sam remembered and thought that he'd understood at the time. And, speaking of the devil (metaphorically at least!), he had hardly even finished dressing when the door to his room burst open and his brother charged into the room.  
  
"You're ready, good," Dean stated looking at him. "Come on, we're going."  
  
"Going? Where?" Sam asked, startled and completely confused.  
  
Had a hunt come up?  
  
"Out."  
  
So, not a hunt then.  
  
With just that, his brother turned around and left, walking off down the hall towards the stairs. Mystified, Sam grabbed a hoodie and followed after Dean. His brother was acting odd even for Dean, but he saw no reason not to go along with it. Hell, at this moment he was embarrassed to think of all the things that he'd go along with or agree to if it meant being able to spend time with his big brother. Sure, Dean hadn't exactly been shunning him as of late, but they'd definitely not been spending the time together that they once had. Not to mention the fact that there had always been others present lately. He wasn't sure why, but today felt different, as if it might just be the two of them.  
  
The thought caused a flutter of butterflies in Sam's stomach as well as a sense of dread. He ruthlessly tried to suppress the latter as he descended the stairs two at a time. Sure, there was always a possibility that he wouldn't like what his brother had to say, but Dean had seemed nervous himself, which wasn't something his brother had been before with their confrontations. No, then Dean had just been angry, so this nervousness was actually a good sign. Or at least that was how he was choosing to take it right now as Dean had shown the jittery nerves of coiled anticipation and not the painful tension that preceded a fight.  
  
At the bottom of the stairs, Sam grabbed his coat and gloves not wishing to risk it with the rapidly plummeting temperatures. Besides, who knew what Dean had planned? It was hard to tell when his brother got into one of these moods. Sometimes just driving the Impala would be enough to soothe his brother but sometimes something a little more physical was required and he didn't want to be caught off-guard should Dean decide to pull over somewhere and continue the rest of the way on foot. Once ready, he glanced out the window only to see Dean and Castiel standing together beside the Impala, heads down.  
  
The sight made Sam pause a moment, trying to see a difference with how the two had been before. It was hard to tell if there was a difference there now or if he was just imaging it. Castiel had always stood close so that was the same, but had his brother always leaned back towards the angel or was that new? The touching was definitely new, at least on Castiel's part anyway. While Dean would definitely lay a hand on someone from time to time, his friend most certainly had not. He could clearly recall wondering in the past if the angel even knew what to do with his hands as Castiel had all too often just let them dangle uselessly by his sides. Not so anymore, or at least not when Castiel was near Dean anyway.  
  
Sam suddenly couldn't help but wonder what his friend's wings were doing just now. He'd never given the angel's wings much thought after the initial shock of not being able to see them. Once the whole vessel thing had been explained to him, he'd just kinda written the whole thing off and not thought about it again until he'd found out about the fact that his brother  _could_  see them. He was ashamed to say that one of the first thoughts to have crossed his mind back then had been a jealous one of why Dean and not him as  _he'd_  felt entitled to this special ability. Now he realized that the very thought itself had been one of the reasons why he himself hadn't been gifted that special talent.  
  
Now that the idea of wings had been put into his head, though, Sam couldn't help but wonder about Castiel's. Watching his brother groom them had given him some kind of idea what those invisible wings might look like and he'd carefully listened to any and all words spoken about them. Still, he wished that he could see his friend's wings, if only just once, maybe as shadows as his big brother had once seen them the first time that Dean had met Castiel. He'd desperately wished to ask the angel to be granted that privilege, but he'd yet to build up the courage in order to do so.  
  
When Castiel and Dean seemed to pause, Sam opened the door and stepped outside to join them. His brother looked up at him, eyes expressionless for a moment, before Dean said something too soft to the angel for him to hear. With a nod, Castiel flew off, vanishing from his sight.  
  
"Let's go," Dean said, getting into the Impala.  
  
Bemused, Sam made his way around to the other side of the car. He was completely unable to figure out what was going on. The fact that he was so in the dark about his big brother's behavior made him very sad. Just how far apart had they grown from each other? He wasn't sure that he wanted to know as it was becoming rapidly clear that he wouldn't like the answer to that question. Nor about whose fault it was.  
  
With that grim thought, Sam got into the Impala, swallowing thickly. His earlier optimism about what this was all about was suddenly gone. Was he just deluding himself once more? He was almost too afraid to ask Dean and find out that he was. He wasn't sure how much more of all this that he could take. Yeah, he knew that so far he'd been the one at fault, but there was only so much that one could take before they shattered.  
  
The notes of Zeppelin's  _Communication Breakdown_ , however, took the decision out of Sam's hands. The music was too loud to comfortably talk over but not so loud as to be painful. Clearly Dean was not yet ready to talk, which while not surprising on the surface, did make him pause. His brother had been the one to instigate this outing, so why was Dean avoiding him now? There was nothing to do but wait and hope that he could outlast Dean, not generally a given, but in this case he was optimistic.  
  
It was while Sam was watching his brother that he noticed the way Dean reached out with his right hand to touch the fingers of his left hand before seeming to realize what he was doing and jerking his hand back to the steering wheel. It was an odd gesture and it made him frown as he tried to figure it out. There was no injury or anything else unusual about his brother's left hand to explain the action which, naturally, made him all the more curious about it. The thought of what his innate curiosity had led to as of late made him jerk his head away to look out of the window.  
  
Just as they were passing the edge of the town, Dean pulled the Impala into the parking lot of a local diner. "Hungry?" his brother demanded.  
  
"I could eat something," Sam replied with a small frown, running always did give him an appetite even if it wasn't quite noon yet.  
  
"I'll be right back."  
  
With that his brother was up and out of the car. Astonished, Sam watched Dean jog across the parking lot to the diner door. What the hell was going on here? It had been quite a while since he'd seen his brother so jittery and nervous and it was starting to affect him as well. If he had some clue as to what this was all about then he'd be able to steer things in the right direction, but he didn't so he was left to essentially flounder in dark as Dean worked up the courage to bring up whatever it was that was bothering his brother's peace of mind.  
  
Not wanting to rock the boat, Sam resisted the temptation to use the opportunity to turn off the Zeppelin tape for something better. Instead he shifted into a more comfortable position and leaned his head against the window, letting his thoughts wander. When his brother came back carrying two bags, he wasn't surprised to smell bacon, cheese and hamburger along with fries. He felt a twinge of resentment, but quickly forced it down, not wanting to start a stupid argument. Instead he took the bags and drinks from Dean when his brother handed them to him.  
  
"We're eating in the car?" Sam asked, surprised.  
  
"And let you get Caesar dressing all over the upholstery?" Dean replied, throwing him an affronted look. "No, of course not."  
  
Caesar dressing? Carefully, Sam sniffed the two bags and was delighted to find that the bacon, cheese and hamburger smell came from only one of them. The smell of fries came from both, but that was almost a comfort as it was precisely the kind of stunt that his brother would have pulled before, just as some mothers would add fruit or vegetables to any meal. Only with Dean it had always been something greasy or artery clogging, but he couldn't wipe the foolish grin from his face even when his brother sent him a look that clearly said that Dean thought he was insane.  
  
"So," Sam began, buoyed by the small act of kindness from his brother. "Dare I ask about the angel ornament?"  
  
The little angel dangling from the Impala's rearview mirror had caught Sam's eye shortly after his brother's initial arrival at the Campbell family compound, but he'd never dared ask about it. At least not until now.  
  
Dean shrugged, but Sam saw his brother's eyes dart towards the little figurine and lift in a smile. "It was a spur of the moment thing. Somehow I doubted Cas would appreciate me putting one of his sisters at the top of my Christmas tree."  
  
The humor and affection in Dean's tone was clear to Sam and it made him smile, well able to see how Castiel might not have liked that at all. The mention of a Christmas tree made him feel a little sad as he remembered how much he'd resisted doing Christmas the last time his brother had tried to get them to celebrate it.  
  
"Did he like it?" Sam asked.  
  
"Oh yeah!"  
  
The wolfish smile Dean sent his way made Sam blanch. "Dude, TMI!"  
  
"You asked."  
  
"Something I regret already."  
  
With a laugh, his brother pulled the Impala over to the side of the road and Sam swung his head around to see where they were. They'd left the main road somewhere behind them and he didn't immediately recognize where they were. It was an orchard of some kind, though he couldn't immediately tell what the crop was as there was no fruit hanging on the branches.  
  
"Come on," Dean said, grabbing one of the bags from him. "Let's eat."  
  
Sam closed his eyes and forced himself to be patient. Getting upset or demanding to know what this was all about would do nothing but put his brother on the defensive, which was the absolute last thing that he wanted right now. It was just...  
  
What was it anyway?  
  
It took Sam a few moments to figure it out as he unfolded himself from the Impala and moved to follow Dean to where his brother had clambered up onto the fence encircling the orchard. The unusually broad planks used in the fence meant that they could quite comfortably straddle the fence and eat while using the planks to hold their food. Opening his bag, he found the promised Caesar salad and, surprisingly, a fruit salad as well as the expected fries. Looking up, he was even more stunned to find that Dean had gotten himself a fruit salad as well. He'd noticed, of course, that Castiel had been getting his brother more healthy options, but he hadn't realized that Dean was doing this as well on his own now.  
  
Anyway, getting back to the issue at hand, Sam realized that he was on edge. This whole thing was like waiting for the proverbial second shoe to drop. All of his big confrontations with Dean had not gone well recently and that meant that he couldn't quite bring himself to relax now no matter how well things were going. It almost annoyed him even more because it meant that he was unable to enjoy this time with his big brother. Which just figured, he'd been dying to spend more quality time with Dean and now that he finally was getting it, he just wanted to push the fast forward button and get to the point.  
  
The realization made Sam bite his lower lip and stab his salad viciously.  
  
"What did the poor lettuce ever do to you?" Dean questioned, laughing.  
  
"Nothing."  
  
His brother snorted. "You sure you're not having hamburger envy?"  
  
Sam shot his brother a dark look, which quickly morphed to one of disgust when Dean took a big bite and made noise of delight while giving him a view of partially mauled burger. "Dude, gross!"  
  
Not unexpectedly, his brother ignored him and Sam just watched as Dean grabbed two fries, dipped them into the ketchup before cramming them into his mouth as well. The disgust was already fading rapidly, the fondness he felt for his brother rising up to take its place. It had been a long time since he'd seen Dean this relaxed and playful, at least around him. To see that now was fantastic and made the more disgusting details far more trivial and easier to ignore.  
  
Now, if only Sam could figure out what his brother wanted to talk about.


	184. Chapter 183

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Sam talk.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
Dean could clearly see that his brother was desperately curious about what they were doing out here but amazingly Sam wasn't pushing him for answers for once. It heartened him as it gave him hope that his little brother had actually been listening to all that they'd said to him as of late. He knew better than to think that the problem was solved (after all how often had they been here before?) but he was willing to give Sam the benefit of the doubt one last time even if he was no longer able to be sure that his brother would change or do the right thing as he'd once believed.  
  
Once he'd finished the last of his burger and had begun his fruit salad, Dean leaned back as much as he could without losing his balance on the fence and looked at his brother.  
  
"How are you holding up?" Dean asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "Have the headaches stopped now?"  
  
"Yes, finally," Sam replied grimacing. "They weren't all that bad, though, not in comparison to those I used to get with the visions. Honestly, the bitter taste was far worse."  
  
That Dean could definitely get that and he shuddered at the thought of everything he ate tasting wrong. It was, however, one of the inevitable side effects of the last part of the ritual that had ensured Sam's freedom from being Lucifer's vessel. To add insult to injury, though, the headaches and taste distortion could last for ages. Personally he'd hate that much more than the earlier painful steps. Not only would it affect eating, but sex as well.  
  
"Yeah, I hear ya," Dean replied, spearing a piece of grape and then wincing at the taste of it.  
  
Though not bitter, the grape tasted awful and Dean was half tempted to throw the fruit salad away and ask his husband to get him some fresh stuff later, but he hated wasting food. It was one of those ingrained habits from before when they'd not always had enough money to ensure that there would reliably be food when Dad was gone on a hunt, so nothing had ever been thrown away. He'd just have to learn not to order this crap from diners and instead go straight to his angel from the get-go when he actually found himself wanting fruit or vegetables. And who'd have thought that he ever would? He definitely hadn't!  
  
"So, right, anyway," Dean continued before he straightened his spine and mentally gave himself a kick in the ass.  
  
He hadn't felt this nervous when telling Sam about the bonding, so Dean wasn't entirely sure why he felt so hesitant now. Was it because of the way his brother had reacted then? Or perhaps because of what had happened right afterwards with Samuel and the First Darkness? The latter made more sense as his brother's reaction hadn't been as bad as it could have been, being far more shocked and disbelieving than anything else.  
  
"Dean?" Sam asked, beginning to sound worried. "Is everything alright? Is there something wrong?"  
  
"No, not wrong. I just wanted to tell you something rather than have you discover it by seeing it."  
  
"Okay, so what is this it that you're talking about?"  
  
Dean had remembered to actually take his new ring off only just before entering his brother's bedroom earlier and while he'd only been wearing it for hours, he already felt it's absence keenly. Now he reached into the inner pocket into which he'd placed his new wedding band and extracted it, though he kept his hand firmly closed around it so that his brother wouldn't be able to see it yet.  
  
"For me this is something which is merely a symbol of what Cas and I already had, but I think that it might mean a lot more to you," Dean stated.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
Rather than try to explain it any more than that in words, Dean figured that it would just be easier to show Sam the wedding ring. If he was right about his brother, a wedding band would have a similar kind of emotional impact on Sam as it'd had on him. Well, not the one that this particular ring had on him, of course, it could never have the same importance and thus impact on his brother as it'd had on him, but rather in general. With that he opened his fist and let Sam see the wedding band that his husband had gotten him.  
  
As expected, his brother stared at the ring in shock and Dean watched carefully to see what else it was that Sam felt about this new development. Because he was observing his brother so closely, he caught the dismay and horror that flitted quickly across Sam's face before his brother caught himself and all emotions were wiped from Sam's face as if they'd never been. It was too late though and he clenched his hand once more, instinctively seeking to protect the wedding ring and all that it represented from his brother's negative reactions.  
  
"Sam, what the hell?" Dean demanded, swinging his leg around so that he could jump off the fence.  
  
His brother clenched his eyes and hands, clearly trying to bite back his initial response and for once Dean wished that Sam wouldn't. After all,  _what the hell_? Yeah, he knew that his brother hadn't truly understood the significance of his bonding with Castiel- he wasn't even sure that any other human  _could_  understand it- but he'd thought that Sam would have gotten enough of it to not be dismayed or horrified at having it translated into such human terms in so real a way. Had his brother been willfully misunderstanding what he'd been saying before?  
  
"Dean," Sam finally began. "That's... it's..."  
  
"It's a physical representation of the closest human equivalent of the bonding that Cas and I did months ago."  
  
"Yeah, but  _marriage_?"  
  
"Yes, Sam, marriage. You got a problem with that?"  
  
The look on his brother's face made Dean turn around and pace away, trying to control his temper. Feeling the ring in his hand digging into his palm, he stopped and took the time to carefully and reverently place the wedding band back onto his finger where it belonged. Looking at it as he closed his fist once more, he felt some of his anger leaving him. Though he couldn't understand his brother's reaction, just the sight of this physical symbol of his bond soothed him greatly and he reached out to Castiel. The emotions and bond equivalent of a hug that he received back centered him and he sent his thanks wordlessly.  
  
" _Do you want me to come?_ " Castiel asked.  
  
" _No, that's okay, thanks,_ " Dean replied. " _I take it Gwen took the news better than Sam's doing?_ "  
  
" _Yes, though I suspect that she'll want to see your ring as well._ "  
  
" _I can deal with that._ "  
  
"Dean?" Sam questioned.  
  
" _I need to go,_ " Dean sent. " _See you later._ "  
  
" _Call me if you need me, Beloved._ "  
  
" _Promise._ "  
  
"Are you speaking with Cas right now?" Sam demanded.  
  
"It's called a bonding, Sam," Dean replied, turning around to face his brother once more and he noticed how Sam's eyes dropped down to his left hand. "Like I told you before, it's a connection on a soul and Grace level, so yeah, Cas and I can talk to each other even when we're apart."  
  
"And that doesn't scare you?"  
  
"No, why would it?"  
  
"It's your  _soul_ , Dean! You of all people should know how important that is."  
  
Dean shrugged. "I trust Cas, Sam, I trust him implicitly. Besides, the bond lets me feel all of him and I know that I don't have anything to worry about."  
  
"And what about how it's changed you? Is your soul even still the same as before?"  
  
"Sam, my bond mate is in charge of Heaven, I really don't think that you need to worry about my entry there. Besides, the bond means that this is a marriage which isn't till death do us part. There is no parting, this is permanent. Forever. Says so right here actually," Dean stated, pointing at the appropriate Enochian word on his ring.  
  
"That's writing?" Sam questioned, stepping closer. "Enochian?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
Of course his brother chose to focus on that part of all that he'd said. Dean felt his anger rising again and he tried to bite it back.  
  
"Look, Dean, I'm sorry okay," Sam apologized, causing Dean to whip his head up to stare at his brother in disbelief. "This is just a lot to take in. The last time I saw you and Cas before all of this, you were hardly speaking to each other and he'd just beat the crap out of you."  
  
Dean winced at the memory of that particular evening. Surprisingly it wasn't the pain from his injuries or the beating that he remembered or regretted most of all, but rather the betrayal and raw soul (Grace?) deep pain that his angel had been radiating. He'd gladly take a dozen more smackdowns like that if it would have saved his husband from having had to experience that. It was definitely one of his most regretted actions ever which, given his life, was saying a lot.  
  
"Yeah, well, things changed," Dean finally replied.  
  
"I didn't see that."  
  
"And whose fault is that?"  
  
The words came out harsh and for once Dean didn't regret it. Though it was still his little brother, it felt good to finally be able to vent some of his frustration about this particular topic on the cause of said frustrations. Oh, sure, he'd let Sam have it on all kinds of other issues, but never on this, not when it came to how it had impacted him personally. Maybe it was because the whole point of this particular trip had been to reveal something so personal to Sam to begin with, but suddenly he felt the desire to unleash it all on his little brother.  
  
Yeah, sure, Dean knew that it was childish and that the adult thing to do would be to ignore it and smooth things over, but just now he didn't feel like being an adult. Instead he felt like being childish and selfish, and screw Sam's feelings, it was time his brother learned really about his own feelings on the topic.  
  
"I..." Sam began before trailing off.  
  
"Yeah,  _you_ , exactly," Dean shot back.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You just took off on your own, again, so don't come complaining to me when that means that you miss out on things."  
  
"Dean, I already explained why I-"  
  
"I know, but regardless of why you did it, you gotta accept that this is a consequence of that decision. You can't just expect people or situations to remain the same while you're off elsewhere doing whatever it is that you want to do more. People change, situations shift. Deal."  
  
"But I just..."  
  
"You just what?"  
  
"I only just got you back. I don't want to lose you again."  
  
"Why would you lose me?" Dean asked before his eyes went wide. Oh.  _Oh_. Well that explained a few things. "Dude, just because for you marriage would have meant turning your back on your family doesn't mean that I'm gonna do that to you."  
  
"I never said that!" Sam protested.  
  
"No, but you thought it, didn't you, Sam? College, a job, marriage and a house, those were all things that were part of a normal life to you, weren't they? A non-hunting life and therefore they would have had to have been kept separate from Dad and me."  
  
"No, I-"  
  
"So you were going to invite me and Dad to the wedding then if Jess had said yes?"  
  
"I... No."  
  
"How about afterwards, to meet Jess once you were married?"  
  
"Dean..."  
  
"Yeah, that's what I thought."  
  
Now that he got it, Dean couldn't believe that he hadn't seen it before. His brother had always had this mental image of 'normal life' as being distinctly separate from the hunting lifestyle, like a Venn diagram where the bubbles didn't overlap. So obviously Sam would have trouble taking something from his normal bubble and transferring it to the hunting bubble instead of just adjusting the bubbles to make the Venn diagram a, well, Venn diagram. He frowned, that hadn't quite worked and he was glad that he hadn't actually said it aloud.  
  
"You know for someone who's supposed to be so smart, you're really stupid sometimes," Dean stated.  
  
"Hey!"  
  
"It's true. Don't even pretend that it isn't. I mean have you even looked at the situation? I mean, really? I don't think that there's even anything about the bonding or the rest of my relationship with Cas which could even remotely be considered normal. That's not me, Sam! I've never wanted normal, not really, so don't go and put your motivations and intentions on me."  
  


* * *

  
The stench of sulfur weighed thick and heavy upon the air, somehow managing to overpower even the oppressive heat that would otherwise have been all-consuming. It was like being burned alive and he couldn't understand how his very skin and muscles weren't literally melting from his bones right now. It was definitely making his blood boil though and the resulting pain was so excruciatingly bad that he longed dearly for death. But that was far too simple a way out and he knew that he'd never get it no matter how much that he wished for it.  
  
Or begged for it.  
  
"You fucking bastard," Christian cursed instead through gritted teeth as he tried desperately to wake up.  
  
Though things had started out innocuously enough, they'd quickly shifted to a point where Christian just  _knew_  that he was asleep and dreaming.   
  
Just like he knew exactly who it was that was here with him, manipulating his dreams.  
  
"Now that is not very polite," another voice chided as the image of his cousin appeared before him.  
  
Lucifer.  
  
Christian snorted. "You're the devil, what do you care about manners?"  
  
"You will find that there is much about me that you do not know," Lucifer replied calmly.  
  
"That shit's not gonna work on me."  
  
"I am not trying to fool you, Christian Campbell."  
  
"Like hell you're not. You know, your chosen setting hardly works in your favor."  
  
"This?" Lucifer questioned, waving a hand to encompass the world around them. "This is not my chosen future. I have just come from spending an eternity locked in a small cage surrounded by nothing but this. I want nothing more than to get away from it."  
  
"Oh, really? So, what, you're saying that this is what  _I_  desire?"  
  
"No, I am merely showing you what the world will become if my brothers are left unchecked to do as they please."  
  
Christian frowned, suspicious, not quite able to figure out what angle the devil was trying to use here. It was a new one and not something that Lucifer had tried before, during the other countless evenings that the Morningstar had invaded his dreams ever since he'd encountered a group of demons who'd correctly identified him as Sam's cousin a few days after finally leaving the others.  
  
"I thought that they wanted paradise on Earth," Christian finally replied.  
  
"Their version of paradise," Lucifer corrected with a careless shrug of his shoulder. "That's hardly compatible with the human version of it. But that's only their intended goal, do you really think that my children will simply allow them to claim Earth? That there won't be a war which will decimate and scorch the planet, all but annihilating humanity?"  
  
"Like you care."  
  
"I care!"  
  
The words were spoken with such vehemence that Christian stepped back involuntarily before he mentally cursed himself for the display of weakness. "Why?"  
  
"This world is my Father's most wonderful creation, the peak of his performance, right before it dipped down when he set work to you humans. I will not see it destroyed so carelessly or because Michael or Raphael had a little temper tantrum."  
  
The mere idea was a chilling one and Christian couldn't help but look around him once more, paying more attention to his surroundings than he had before. Now that he did, he could see that this wasn't an image from Hell, well not unless they had the burned out husks of cars down there. Or the various other little remnants of human life that he could now see peeking out from among the rubble. It made him swallow thickly but he reminded himself quickly of the fact that this was a dream and one that he wasn't in charge of. Lucifer could make him see whatever it was that devil wanted him to. This was all nothing more than a fancy hallucination to persuade him to saying yes to becoming Lucifer's meatsuit.  
  
"Pretty words," Christian shot back. "But I know who you are, Lucifer, Prince of Lies. The one with the silver tongue."  
  
"You humans and your silly titles," Lucifer sneered. "Very well, I see that you remain as stubborn as always, Christian. Just think about this,  _I_  am the one who rebelled against God and Heaven.  _I_  am the one who refused to simply bow down and obey blindly. Now who is it that has decreed that the world has to end and all of humanity die?"  
  
It took a second or two for Christian to figure out where it was that the devil was going with this, but when he did, he shook his head and tried to backpedal futilely. Just then he felt the ghostly feel of a pillow below his cheek and he grasped at it, trying to force himself awake. It worked, but just as he finally managed to tear himself free, he was unable not to hear the devil's last parting shot.  
  
"God, that is who."  
  
Lucifer's words followed Christian into the real world, echoing furiously in his head as he sat upright with a gasp. The sheet and blankets were twisted hopelessly around his legs and he had to fight with them to break free so that he could leap from the bed and stagger into the middle of the motel room. There, he bent over and tried to catch his breath and calm his frantically racing heart.  
  
No, he wouldn't do it. Christian simply outright refused to let  _the devil's_  words get to him.  
  
Even if they made a horrible, twisted sense.  
  
"Human," a frosty and heavily accented female voice stated from behind him.  
  
Christian yelped involuntarily and spun around, desperately wishing that he'd grabbed his gun when he'd gotten up so that it would be in his hand right now instead of lying uselessly on the night stand out of his immediate reach. When he identified his visitor, though, he knew immediately that having his gun would have been futile as he could have emptied the whole clip into her and not achieved anything but infuriating her, something which he really didn't ever want to see.  
  
"Simiel," Christian growled. "Do you really think that you can say anything to convince me that your master hasn't already tried?"  
  
"Samuel Campbell is dead," Simiel replied evenly.  
  
" _What_? How? What happened?"  
  
"Raphael killed him and Dean not only allowed it, but has convinced the others that it was necessary."


	185. Chapter 184

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Heaven's library, Michael and Raziel finally find a clue to one of their questions.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
Michael was slowly starting to understand the human expression of getting so frustrated that one could strangle someone. Violence was beginning to sound like a very attractive option just now and he almost wished that either Lucifer or Simiel would do something or have their demons do something simply so that he could go and smite someone. Just to work off a little pent up frustration. He had never been overly fond of inaction so the work of combing through the library for answers to the questions and dilemmas they were facing would have been sufficient to try his patience at the best of times, but now while there was so much at stake including the very lives of his beloved vessel and younger brothers, it was simply unbearable.  
  
"Are you sure that you didn't remove any books, scrolls or information on this code from the library?" Michael asked his brother, not for the first time.  
  
That was another human habit which he seemed to have acquired at some point recently. The false belief that asking the same question multiple times would somehow result in a different answer when nothing else had changed.  
  
"Yes, Michael," Raziel replied calmly. "I am sure."  
  
The fact that his brother wasn't reacting with either offense or annoyance did nothing to the curb this new habit of his. Michael supposed that his newly returned brother had probably long since gotten used to this human behavior from his time spent on Earth. The thought didn't sit well with him and he was mildly surprised to realize that a part of him actually felt  _jealous_  of Raziel for the experience. It was with a shock that he realized that  _he'd_ actually like to be able to experience the same. Though if that only would hold true only if he got to be around his precious vessel or not he didn't know. Still, it was not something which he'd ever expected to happen.  
  
Now that Michael actually allowed himself to think about it, the thought was rapidly followed by a sense of bitterness. First at the fact that Father had chosen to confide in Raziel and not him, and second at the realization that he had never had that opportunity. As his Father's first, it had been his responsibility to look after his brothers and sister in His absence. So even if he'd ever had the inclination back then to think of such a course of action, he'd never have been able to indulge in it. Not like Gabriel had been able to.  
  
The thoughts and sentiments were completely foreign to Michael and he wasn't at all sure what to make of them. He felt horror at the near-blasphemy of it all but that was an instinctive reaction and luckily tempered by the knowledge that neither Castiel nor Dean had fallen from favor for indulging similar or worse thoughts. Still, he wasn't quite sure what to  _do_  with the thoughts or how to go about incorporating these new realities into himself. He would have to speak with Dean about them the next time that he saw his bond brother.  
  
A slight sound from his brother had Michael whipping his head around. "Raziel? Have you found something?"  
  
"I think so. It's not a key to the code, but it speaks of something which may be it," Raziel replied before offering him the tome. "Here, see."  
  
A quick glance at the passage in question made Michael's hopes rise. In addition to what Raziel had mentioned, it also described how the cipher had passed from the hands of the line of Abel into the order of Jesus' disciple. After his first trip to the Vatican with Dean, he had looked into the tenants and beliefs of the Roman Catholic Church in more depth than he had ever bothered to do before and therefore he knew the story of its origin.  
  
"If the Vatican still has the key mentioned here, then this is excellent news, Brother," Michael stated, looking back up with a smile.  
  
"To Dean then?" Raziel inquired.  
  
"Yes."  
  


* * *

  
The horror that Christian had felt upon first discovering that there was, in fact, a new grave in the Campbell family graveyard at the back of the compound property still lingered though he had left as soon as he had found the renewed tombstone with Samuel's name upon it. Throughout the entire frantic drive there he'd been desperately clinging to the idea that Simiel had been lying to him in a carefully calculated bid to get him to do something rash.  
  
Lucifer lied after all, everyone knew that, so Christian had figured that the devil's right-hand man (or woman in this case) would have no qualms whatsoever doing so as well. What was surprising was that it turned out that they had no trouble telling the truth either when it suited their purpose to do so. His phone was in his hand again but so far he'd been unable to work up the courage to actually make the call as he paced his latest motel room, far too afraid of what it would mean if Simiel had also been telling him the truth when she'd spoken of exactly  _how_  it was that Samuel had died. Oh, he wouldn't put it past his cousin to do something like that, Sam had told him more than enough about Dean for him to know that, but what really bugged him was  _why_. Samuel had all but fawned over his oldest grandson in Dean's absence, so what had been the reason to get rid of him? Had Samuel finally started to see Dean Winchester for what he truly was when confronted with the reality of his grandson rather than some glorified construction of him that was half memory and half fantasy?  
  
Yeah, that actually made sense now that Christian thought about it. Well either that or the angels had felt threatened by the influence that Samuel had over his grandson and they had convinced Dean that the older hunter was against him or them. In that case they'd probably been able to manipulate his cousin into blindly falling in line like the good little soldier that Sam had told him Dean was.  
  
Well, that answered one of his questions, but Christian tried to shy away from the other one. Because, really, he didn't care how far Michael and the other angels with him were prepared to go to follow God's original Apocalypse plans as he intended to derail things long before they got to that point. So it didn't matter how uncomfortable Lucifer's last words had left him or the fact that God might have intended for all of this to happen from the beginning.  
  
Really, it didn't.  
  
Christian punched speed dial two on his phone, suddenly not finding the prospect of speaking with Gwen and learning the truth of what had happened to Samuel nearly as daunting as it had seemed before.  
  
"Christian?" Gwen questioned, her voice cautious and rife with disbelief.  
  
The reaction was pretty much what Christian had expected as he'd outright ignored her initial attempts to contact him right after he'd left. The calls had stopped after a day or two of his ignoring them, but the text messages had lasted a while longer. A part of him had wanted to respond to them, just to try and make his cousin see reason before it was too late as he had always liked Gwen, but he'd known that he hadn't stood a chance against the combined focus of Samuel and Sam, not after all of his earlier attempts to get her on his side with smaller arguments had mostly failed.  
  
"Why didn't you tell me that Samuel was killed?" Christian demanded harshly, not wanting to give her the chance to ask him about where he'd been or, God forbid, how he  _felt_.  
  
His only interest now was to learn the truth of what had happened. While Christian might have held out some slim hope of Gwen coming around before, despite all indications to the contrary, that hope was completely and utterly gone now. Not only had she not deemed it important to tell him about Samuel's death, but if Simiel was correct, well then she was completely lost to him forever.  
  
Christian promised himself that he would make Dean Winchester pay for that; for ruining his family.  
  
"I-" Gwen began, clearly caught off-guard before she took a deep breath that he could hear clearly over the phone before switching track. "Look, I'm sorry, Christian, I really am, but it all happened so quickly and there's been so much going on lately that it just slipped my mind."  
  
"You're saying that you forgot?" Christian demanded, incredulous, before suspicion began to leak in. "Or did you know that I'd demand to know exactly how he died and you didn't want to tell me that?"  
  
"Christian-"  
  
"How?"  
  
"It's complicated."  
  
"No, it's not. Something killed him, physically ended his life, what was it? Or should I instead be asking  _who_  was it?"  
  
"What do you know?" Gwen suddenly demanded, her voice turning hard and sharp. "Who told you?"  
  
"So it's true then. Raphael did kill him and Dean made you think that it was for the best."  
  
"No! Well, not the last. Dean was in no condition to make anyone do anything. He nearly died, Christian!"  
  
"My heart breaks for him."  
  
"That's enough!" Gwen thundered and Christian reared back automatically, not at all used to his generally mild-mannered cousin reacting like this. "You weren't there, you didn't see! It was horrible, not only was he dead, but his actual soul was nearly completely obliterated. If Death hadn't come when he ha-"  
  
" _Death_? The horseman?"  
  
"Yes-"  
  
"So now Winchester's got you not only working with angels, but horsemen as well. Doesn't that ring any alarm bells for you?"  
  
"It's not like that."  
  
"No? Then how come's Samuel's dead and Dean isn't? How come one of your precious Winchester's angels killed him and that's somehow okay? Christ, can't you see what's happening right before your own eyes, Gwen?"  
  
"Samuel was compromised, he was a threat to Dean."  
  
Christian snored. "Right, Samuel was compromised. Winchester can really make you believe anything, can't he? I never thought of you as such a follower or as so fucking gullible, Gwen."  
  
With that, Christian disconnected the call and turned off his cell, throwing it away onto the bed in disgust. Compromised. The word echoed in his head and he felt his hands clench into fists as he started to pace the room once more. It was just as he'd thought, Dean was nothing but a puppet which the angels were manipulating at will. He wished that he could say that they'd had to make up some elaborate cover story in order to get anyone related to him to fall in line like that, but apparently all that had been necessary was a pretty face and a good lay and the angels had Dean eating out of the palm of their hands. Well he'd always known that bad blood bore true and Mary Campbell clearly had been nothing other than a rotten seed and her firstborn had inherited all of her weaknesses. He'd bet that this Castiel hadn't even had to try hard to get his cousin to spread them. A few coy glances and some pretty words had probably been enough and the rest had been a matter of keeping Dean sated.  
  
The most important thing as far as Christian was concerned, though, was that it meant that he couldn't trust a single word that he'd been told about angels and the Apocalypse from Sam and Bobby. Who knew how long Dean had been under Castiel's thumb? For all he knew his cousin could have been the angel's bitch from the moment that he'd been resurrected, which would mean that everything Sam and Bobby had been told about angels and the Apocalypse was tainted at best and completely wrong at worst. So he couldn't trust any of it and he'd have to start from square one, which meant going back to the basics.  
  
Even as he thought it, Christian was striding towards the rickety stand next to his bed. Just like every hotel or motel across the United States, it contained a copy of the Bible and that was as good a place as any to start.  
  
As he settled down to do so, Christian had to forcibly push aside the devil's words as they continued to echo insidiously through his mind.  
  


* * *

  
Dean had just finished changing the Impala's oil and adding antifreeze in preparation for the winter weather that was probably still a little ways off, when he heard the flutter of wings behind him. He glanced over his shoulder as he closed his baby's hood.  
  
"Hey, Mike, Raziel," Dean greeted.  
  
"Dean, we may have found something on the code," Michael replied.  
  
"Really? What?"  
  
"Our sources indicate that the key to breaking it passed into the hands of the Vatican when it was lost by your family," Raziel explained. "Michael says that you have contacts there."  
  
"Yep, I do. Do we know what this key is called or what it looks like? Is it a book or scroll?"  
  
"No, it didn't elaborate on the nature of the cipher."  
  
"Damn, can't have things be too easy, now can we?" Dean muttered as he pulled out his cell before hesitating. "What time is it in Rome right now?"  
  
"Nearly nine in the evening," Michael responded.  
  
"That's not too late to call for something like this, is it?"  
  
"It doesn't hurt to try," Raziel offered. "And if no one replies then we can just take you there anyway and you can tell them about it later."  
  
Dean laughed. "Remind me to stay on my guard around you."  
  
"Hey, you're the ones who say that it's easier to ask for forgiveness than permission."  
  
"Whoever thought that angels were innocent, cherubic and obedient needs to get his head checked," Dean muttered under his breath as he called the number that he'd been given.  
  
"Mr. Winchester?" a male voice inquired as soon as the call was connected.  
  
The form of address made Dean drop his head in lieu of a convenient wall to hit it against. Why did he even bother anymore? Really, it was perfectly clear that there were some things that he simply wasn't going to be able to change no matter how much he tried to do so. Even as he explained that they wanted to come over to look for something in the archives, he made a mental note to just drop this particular issue. Short of asking each new Vatican official that he came into contact with to simply call him Dean, there was no way that they were going to stop calling him Mr. Winchester and he felt exhausted just thinking about it.  
  
"Are you ready to go now?" Raziel asked as soon as Dean hung up.  
  
A quick glance at Michael showed Dean that his two bond brothers had been listening in on his conversation as his archangel now held the scrolls that they'd gotten from Michael Winchester, something which Michael definitely hadn't had in his hands before. So his friend had made a quick trip back up to Heaven during his call.  
  
"Uh, let me grab a different shirt and see if Sam and Bobby want to come along," Dean replied. Raziel tilted his head to one side at this and the next thing that Dean knew, he was wearing a clean shirt and all traces of oil and grease were gone. He blinked in surprise but then smiled. "Thanks."  
  
All cleaned up, that left just one thing to do before they left and Dean hurried inside. He wasn't entirely sure how a meeting between his brother and anyone at the Vatican would go, but he knew that if he just left, his brother would be in a snit for the rest of the week. And if there was a tiny part of himself that kinda wanted to show off to his little brother just how well he'd managed to cope on his own, well then he thought that he might just be justified in feeling like that after all of the shit that he'd put up with from Sam as of late. Besides, it would be a peace offering of a sort, just like when he'd taken his brother out to tell Sam about the wedding rings. After this the ball would be in his brother's court.  
  
"Bobby? Sam?" Dean called out, entering the house.  
  
"Library," Bobby replied.  
  
"Done with the Impala?" Sam asked when Dean entered the room.  
  
"Yeah, look, Mike and Raziel might have a lead for us on the location of the cipher for the code used in the scrolls," Dean explained. "We're about to head over to the Vatican to see if it's correct."  
  
"The Vatican?" Bobby repeated in shock.  
  
"Yep. So, you guys wanna come or what?"  
  
"Yes!" Sam exclaimed, leaping to his feet. "Hells, yes!"  
  
Bobby snorted. "Do you actually need us there?"  
  
"No, but you two were the ones who threw hissy fits the last time I left without telling you," Dean pointed out. "So this is your warning this time."  
  
The term hissy fit clearly didn't sit well with the older hunter but Dean could see that Bobby knew better than to try and argue this particular point, muttering something about him being an idjit under his breath.  
  
"You're not coming, Bobby?" Sam questioned in disbelief. "Really?"  
  
"Some of us happen to like our privacy and prefer not to have it invaded by nosy busybodies," Bobby replied but there was an odd note to his voice and Dean frowned, suddenly wondering if his friend had been religious before his wife's death and just what religion Bobby and Karen might have followed back then. "Besides, someone has to keep sorting through these books for all of the other stuff that we're looking for."  
  
"Okay," Dean said, figuring that now was not the time to pry. "I'll still be reachable by phone if you need anything. Come on, Sam, Mike and Raziel are waiting outside."  
  
As he followed his little brother, Dean couldn't help but notice the slight spring to Sam's steps and he shook his head. Only his nerdy brother would get all worked up about going to meet a bunch of mostly stuffy old men and their collection of books and treasures.  
  
"You need to get laid, dude," Dean teased as they stepped outside. "I mean like today."  
  
"Dean!" Sam hissed in protest.  
  
"Hey, I'm just calling 'em as I see 'em. How long has it been anyway? A month? Two months?"  
  
"I'm not discussing this with you."  
  
"More than two months?  _Really_? No wonder you're jonesing for shit like this. You really gotta go out and get yourself laid, Sammy, this isn't good for you."  
  
"Dean!"  
  
"No, seriously."  
  
"Are you ready to go, or should we give the two of you some time alone?" Raziel inquired, amusement rife in his voice.  
  
Dean glanced at his newest bond brother, startled, but smiled when he saw the twinkle in those dark eyes. "Come on, back me up here, Raz. Tell him that what he's doing really isn't healthy. Or natural."  
  
"No!" Sam protested loudly. "I'm  _not_  discussing this with an angel."  
  
Dean laughed. "Dude, you have no idea what you're missing!"  
  



	186. Chapter 185

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and his brothers go to the Vatican to look for the key to the scroll code.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
Michael had clearly been paying attention to who he'd been interacting with the last few times that Dean had been at the Vatican, or at least to who the different people were, because his archangel brought them straight to Father Mancini, who he'd been directed to find once they arrived at the Vatican. Unfortunately their sudden arrival, though at a respectable distance from the man for once, startled the priest, causing him to jump in surprise. It intrigued him that, even caught off-guard as his first Vatican contact was, that Father Mancini didn't swear.  
  
Guess it really was possible for some people not to pick up that habit on any level whatsoever. Who'd have thought?  
  
"Sorry," Michael apologized before Dean could say anything and he sent his friend the pride that he felt at the action.  
  
A wing briefly brushing against his back told Dean that his message had gotten through and he couldn't help but marvel at how easy and instinctual it was becoming to use his vessel bond with Michael. It was reminiscent of the way that his very early communication with his husband had gone. The most interesting thing was, though, how little it bothered or worried him despite knowing that it was neither normal nor expected. It just felt far too good and right for him to fear it even though he knew that it concerned Castiel at least a little. What could he say though? He'd gone far too long trusting and going with his instincts to stop doing so now, especially since they  _usually_  steered him right.  
  
"No, that is okay, you just surprised me," Father Mancini replied, smiling at them before switching to English. "Ah, Mr. Sam Winchester, it is a pleasure to meet you."  
  
"Oh, uh, hello," Sam fumbled, startled to be addressed.  
  
Dean snorted, betting that his brother had been far too busy staring around at what Sam could see of the different sealed cases near them as they'd been flown right into the vaults of the Vatican Archives. It was the equivalent of putting a kid in a candy store and his little brother was already all but salivating at the prospect of being able to explore this new treasure trove.  
  
"Sam, Raz, this is Father Mancini, one of the priests who works down here in the Archives and the first person that Cas and I met here. Father Mancini, as you guessed, this is my brother Sam and this here is Raziel, another archangel."  
  
"Raziel? Angel of Mysteries?"  
  
"Yes," Raziel confirmed.  
  
Father Mancini seemed somewhat perturbed by this and Dean threw his new bond brother a curious look.  
  
"It is one of my titles from the Jewish tradition," Raziel explained. "It is also only in the Kabbalah that I am rightly known as an archangel. Within the Christian teachings I was merely considered to be another of the lower angels."  
  
Oh, right, Dean did remember something of that now that he thought about it. He just hadn't put two and two together to realize why Father Mancini was disturbed by the appearance of his bond brother. But if Raziel had been deemed to be less important by the Roman Catholic church, then he could see why they might be worried to discover that his bond brother was, in fact, an archangel. Somehow, however, he didn't think that Raziel would take it personally, not with how much his new friend seemed aware of human customs and the general dissemination of religious knowledge.  
  
Surprisingly, Father Mancini seemed to be able to put this latest shock aside quickly and Dean couldn't help but wonder if all of the revelations of the past few months had served to make the man a bit immune to them. Well it was either that or Father Mancini was able to put it all aside in order to expedite the purpose of their trip here.  
  
"You mentioned that you required help finding something that you thought to be located in the Archives?" Father Mancini inquired, switching back into Italian.  
  
"Yes," Dean replied in kind, well aware that he had his brother's full attention on him once more, just like the last and only time that Sam had ever heard him speak Italian before. "We have gotten our hands on some scrolls which we know to contain important information, but they are written in code and Raziel found a tome in Heaven which said that the key to deciphering the code had passed into the hands of the church."  
  
As Dean said it, Michael stepped forward and placed the scrolls on a nearby table. "Perhaps you will recognize something from your collection by looking at the script," Michael said.  
  
Father Mancini drew in a startled breath as Dean reached out to unroll the first scroll and it took a quick glance at the priest for him to figure out what had startled the man now. The way Father Mancini was starting at his wedding band, however, made it more than clear and, yeah, of course that would interest and surprise the priest. For all of their digging into him and his past, he was pretty sure that they didn't even have the first inkling about the true nature of his relationship with Castiel.  
  
"You've gotten married," Father Mancini stated, looking back up at his face.  
  
"Yes," Dean confirmed, his thumb reaching over to touch and turn the ring as it always did when someone mentioned the wedding band.  
  
For a brief instant Dean was tempted to tell the man the truth, to tell Father Mancini just  _who_  that he was married to, but then it passed. Though there would probably always be a part of him that enjoyed shocking people, this was one issue that he had absolutely no desire whatsoever to be flippant about. Nor did the thought that anyone would either genuinely disapprove or be disgusted by the idea of him and his husband appeal to him whatsoever. So, yeah, he had no clue how long he could keep this particular secret from the Roman Catholic church, but he would try to do so nonetheless.  
  
"I would prefer if you didn't make this too widely known," Dean continued, knowing Raziel would know why and that Michael would happily follow his lead here if his friend didn't understand his reasoning.  
  
"You are afraid of Lucifer finding out," Father Mancini deduced incorrectly. "That he would use the relationship or your new wife against you."  
  
"He does enjoy using whatever means he deems most expedient," Dean replied neutrally.  
  
It wasn't exactly a lie if he merely failed to correct a mistaken belief, was it?  
  
"I will ensure that it does not get out on our account."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"Dean?" Sam asked, confused about the delay and not understanding the conversation.  
  
"Just getting congratulations on the wedding, Sammy," Dean explained in English, throwing his brother the look they used when wanting to ensure that someone didn't reveal something to a witness or source. "And ensuring that Lucy doesn't find out about it."  
  
"Oh, okay."  
  
"But, anyway, back to the matter at hand." With that, Dean unrolled the first scroll and allowed Father Mancini to place paperweights on the two ends to keep it open while they looked at it.  
  
"This does seem vaguely familiar," Father Mancini stated, frowning. "But I don't immediately recall when or where I've seen it before."  
  
"Is there anything which we could do to help jog your memory?" Raziel inquired.  
  
"Not unless one of the other scrolls has a more memorable marking."  
  
"Don't you have some kind of computer database or inventory which we can search?" Sam asked and a quick glance back at his brother showed Dean that Michael had probably been translating for him.  
  
"It is not complete," Father Mancini replied in English. "Some items cannot be, uh, scansionato."  
  
"Scanned," Dean translated. "They're too old?"  
  
"Too old or we fear electrical equipment would damage. But others coming soon, maybe they recognize."  
  
"Others?"  
  
"Yes, they were contacted after you called. The pope sends apologies he cannot come, he is on a trip."  
  
"The pope?" Sam choked and Dean suddenly wondered if he'd forgotten to mention that particular detail to his brother. "You met the pope, Dean?"  
  
"Eh, yeah, one of the last times," Dean confirmed. "Time before last I believe."  
  
"And you didn't think to mention this?"  
  
"It slipped my mind."  
  
"It slipped your mind."  
  
Dean scowled at the mocking note beneath the sheer disbelief in his brother's voice but decided to leave it alone. All this shit meant far more to Sam than it did to him so for all he knew, it really was that mindboggling to his brother that he hadn't thought to brag to Sam about it.  
  
"Yep, met the head of the pointy Swiss guard and a bunch of cardinals too, if you're interested," Dean replied instead.  
  
From the look on his brother's face, the sarcasm hadn't gone down particularly well, but then it rarely did with Sam so Dean took it as meaning that things were returning to some semblance of normal for them. Just not too normal, he hoped, or too much like their old normal as he honestly didn't think that he could go through that old cycle anymore. And the fact that he could admit that not only to himself, but to others as well if necessary, frightened him a little as it was proof positive of how much that he'd changed over the course of the past year. Not that it was a bad thing at all, but it was still a massive change and if it didn't give him pause then he'd be even more worried about it all.  
  
The ringing of his phone pulled Dean from those deep thoughts and he was glad for it until he saw the caller ID. "Crowley," he growled in lieu of a greeting.  
  
"You better have a sodding plan because it's show time," Crowley replied, deadly serious without a trace of his usual humor or sarcasm.  
  
"What happened?" Dean demanded, seeing both Michael and Sam turn to look at him at his tone of voice.  
  
"Some idiot said yes to Lucifer and he's got himself a container or whatever angels call their meatsuits."  
  
"Vessels, they call them vessels."  
  
Dean wasn't quite sure how he got those words out as the news shocked him right to his very core. Sure, he'd known that it was only a matter of time before the devil found himself some poor dupe who either didn't know any better or who was stupid enough to give in despite knowing, but somehow he'd thought that they'd have more time. Maybe it had just been naivety or sheer mule-headedness to not see the truth on his part, but he really hadn't expected for this to happen so soon.  
  
"What is it? What happened?" Father Mancini inquired, but Dean realized it was directed more at Michael than him, so he ignored the question in order to focus on the more important issues.  
  
"Who?" Dean demanded.  
  
"How the hell should I bloody know? Besides, I don't care, he's got him whoever it is and he's not wasting any time making up for being benched," Crowley snapped.  
  
"What does he look like?" Dean pressed. "This vessel?"  
  
"You think I've been stupid enough to be anywhere that Lucifer could show up? I went to ground as soon as I got wind of what had happened."  
  
"Of course you did, wouldn't want to risk your neck after all."  
  
"Damn right I don't, cupcake! Stupidity's your area of expertise, survival is mine."  
  
"Yeah, well, you might just have to do something a little more than what you're comfortable with soon."  
  
"To use your own phrase- much as it kills me to do so- bite me, cupcake."  
  
Dean bit his tongue, not having the time to get caught up in a pointless argument now. "What did you mean when you said that he's making up for lost time?"  
  
"Lawrence, Kansas, is gone."  
  
" _What?_ "  
  
"Got wiped off the map not even fifteen minutes ago if rumors are to be believed."  
  
Lawrence, gone.  
  
Dean's mind got stuck on that and he couldn't seem to get past it. Lawrence, the one place he still thought of as his hometown if ever really pressed to come up with an answer, was just completely and utterly gone. He'd seen the power of archangels before and knew it wasn't a big stretch of power for them to do something like that. Hell, wiping towns off the map had been  _Uriel's_  specialty and he hadn't even been an archangel at all!  
  
Lawrence was gone. Forever.  
  
All of a sudden Dean was bombarded with memories and snippets of his life there. Having been so young when his mother had been murdered, he really didn't have all that many memories from his life there, but he'd always been careful to maintain those that he was able to recall. Then, on top of that, there was everything from when he'd gone back there, both physically and in time. The worst thing was that he knew exactly why it was that Lucifer had chosen Lawrence and he'd put good money on Stull Cemetery as having been the epicenter of the attack. This was a message to them as much as a way for Lucifer to obliterate the place where he'd fallen back into Hell even if the entrance to the Pitt was more metaphysical than physical. He doubted that little details like that actually mattered to the devil right now.  
  
His phone was taken out of his hand and it was only then that Dean realized that Crowley had still been talking, trying to get his attention.  
  
"Was there anything else?" Michael asked before he frowned. "I am a friend of Dean's and you can tell me anything you would him as he shares it with me anyway." Another pause. "No, he is not cheating and your insinuations are not appreciated."  
  
 _That_  drew Dean's attention enough to snap him out of his shock and he scowled. Of course Crowley would go there when a woman's voice came on the line instead of his own. Oh, well, it was better than the demon learning that it was Michael that he was currently speaking to.  
  
"Dean."  
  
The voice was soft and Dean turned to look at his brother's deathly pale face and he couldn't help but wonder if he looked that bad at the moment as well. "Yeah?"  
  
"Is it true? Is Lawrence gone? Did Lucifer...?" Sam inquired.  
  
"Yeah, he did."  
  
"Jesus."  
  
"Don't blaspheme," Michael stated, flipping shut Dean's phone and handing it back to him. "The demon didn't know anything else of use."  
  
"Demon?" Father Mancini demanded, eyes wide.  
  
"He's a source," Dean explained with a dismissive wave of his hand. "One who pissed off Lucy enough to have a death warrant on his head, so it's in his best interest to help us defeat him before he himself gets killed."  
  
"Ah, I see."  
  
The urge to start swearing rose swiftly within Dean but he fought it back, not sure if he'd be able to stop once he started. Things had almost literally just gone to Hell in a handbasket. A conversation that he'd had with Gwen the other day made a truly ugly suspicion rear its head and his breath caught at the thought. It made a lot of sense given the circumstances but he really,  _really_  hoped that it wasn't true for both his brother and his cousin's sakes. Wanting to confirm it before he uttered it, he swiped Sam's phone and ignored his brother's protest to find the number he needed in the address book and hitting the call button.  
  
"Dean!" Sam said again. "What are you doing?"  
  
Dean turned away from his brother as the call connected and the recipient answered.  
  
"Hello, Sam, I was hoping that you would call."  
  
His eyes snapped to Michael and Dean could tell from the way that his bond brother stiffened that the archangel had heard it too. While the voice was most definitely Christian Campbell's, the intonation and inflexions were  _not_. Man, he'd really hoped that he'd been wrong about this.  
  
"Nnn, wrong answer, care to try again for ten percent of the original prize?" Dean demanded, clenching his eyes shut.  
  
"Dean Winchester."  
  
"Yeah, but don't expect me to be particularly impressed, Lucy, there really wasn't anyone else that it could be."  
  
"As insolent as ever I see," Lucifer replied calmly in that way of his which drove Dean nuts.  
  
This was the fucking  _devil_ , he shouldn't be so calm or sound so rational half the time.  
  
"Yeah, well, it's me. What you see is pretty much what you get."  
  
"Oh, I have learned better than to make that particular mistake a second time. I have to admit, though, that I am surprised that Michael has not managed to teach you better manners."  
  
"Ah, see, Mike's come to see the charming side of my personality and realized that he actually rather likes it."  
  
"So I have heard. You will pay for having corrupted my brother, Dean Winchester."  
  
"Do your worst, Lucifer," Dean retorted and with that he disconnected the line.  
  
The intoxicating mix of exhilaration, triumph and terror made Dean feel a little lightheaded, so it took him few seconds to realize that sometime between his first and second phone calls more people had arrived including Father Giordano and Colonel Anrig, all of whom were staring at him in shock and horror.  
  
"Eh," Dean began, not sure what to say.  
  
"Did you really just challenge Lucifer himself?" Colonel Anrig demanded in disbelief.  
  
His brother's snort behind him told Dean that someone had translated that question for Sam but all he could do was shrug. "Uh, yeah."  
  
"It is not unusual for Dean to do these kinds of things," Michael explained, his calm voice belying the churning emotions that Dean could so easily detect from his bond brother.  
  
"I think that I'm beginning to see why Father likes you so much, Dean, and why neither Zachariah nor Uriel could stand you," Raziel laughed. "Though I'm also wondering how it is that you are even still alive."  
  
"Pure dumb luck," Sam supplied.  
  
"Hey!" Dean protested.  
  
"You just pretty much told Lucifer to come and get you, Dean."  
  
"Yeah, so? He was going to anyway, why not say it?"  
  
His brother sighed, seeming to think that it explained everything and Dean scowled at Sam. It wasn't like being kind and polite to the devil would make a damn bit of difference, so why the hell bother to hide his contempt or not use the opportunity to let off a little steam? It made him feel better, just a little bit, true, but better nonetheless. Abruptly, he tossed Sam his phone back and his little brother fumbled the catch, nearly dropping the cell. If it wasn't for the wounded, almost betrayed look on Sam's face as his brother stared at his own phone, he would have teased Sam for being slow, but this was no laughing matter whatsoever.  
  
The extra time that the Rite of Contressa had bought them was now officially used up.  
  
Lucifer had a vessel.  
  



	187. Chapter 186

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael ponders his true vessel and his younger brother's new situation.

PRESENT  
  
  
"What's this?" Colonel Anrig asked, stepping up to where the scrolls were laid out.  
  
"It's something we found that needs decoding," Michael explained. "We have reason to believe that the cipher is located here."  
  
"Yes, I've seen something like this before," Father Giordano stated.  
  
"You have? Where?" Dean demanded, excited.  
  
His vessel's emotions were not only evident on Dean's face, but Michael could also feel the echo of them as well along their bond. It distracted him for a moment as it was stronger than ever before. He would not have thought that was even possible if he wasn't experiencing it himself. Yet here it was nonetheless; their bond was clearly growing ever stronger even when he wasn't actively taking his little one as his vessel. He could only assume that it was due to a mix of Dean's unique soul and the fact that his bond brother was almost constantly exposed to Grace, which could serve to strengthen all of his precious vessel's bonds, especially when Dean was so receptive and accepting of the two different Graces in question. Still, the fact that it was so unprecedented would worry him but for the fact that he strongly suspected his Father's hand at work in all of this.  
  
Dean was the Righteous Man and all, plus his Father had already proven that He was willing to break all of His old rules when it came to this particular human, so Michael wasn't as concerned as he might otherwise have been. Despite all that had happened, he still had faith when it came to things like this. And if he turned out to be wrong in that, well then he would do all that he could to ensure that things ended well for his friend. First, though, they needed to take care of his brother and prevent this Apocalypse and anything which brought him and Dean closer together was probably an advantage in terms of accomplishing that particular goal.  
  
That thought inevitably brought Michael's thoughts back to Lucifer and the fact that his brother now had himself a vessel. That fact chilled him and his eyes automatically sought out Dean who stood talking with Raziel and Father Mancini. Absently he noted that the others had vanished off somewhere else, but he paid it little notice. The fact that Lucifer now had a vessel was worrying for a number of reasons beyond the immediately obvious one. Among them was the fact that his own vessel had now lost yet another member of his family. True, Dean hadn't been close to Christian Campbell- had actually hardly even met the man in point of fact- but he knew how important family was to his little one so to lose any of them to Lucifer had to hurt. Especially when it was someone that his bond brother might think that he could have saved. He'd have to have a word with Castiel about that so they could make sure that Dean didn't end up blaming himself for this. All of them had warned the man about his brother and the fact that Lucifer could use him as a vessel and what Christian could do to prevent it from happening. The fact that the stupid idiot had gone and given his consent to Lucifer anyway was entirely beyond their control. It was no one's fault but Christian's and Lucifer's and he absolutely refused to allow Dean to even consider anything else.  
  
Luckily his vessel hadn't shown any overt signs of grief yet, unlike Sam whom Michael had seen react to the news as if the boy had received a physical blow. No, what had visibly affected his bond brother had been the news of Lawrence's destruction. He'd relayed the news to Castiel and Raphael at once and his brothers had taken a few garrisons and gone to check it out with an eye on mitigating the damage as much as possible and seeing if they could come up with an explanation for the disaster that most humans would find plausible. He wasn't sure if- or for how long- that they could keep the truth hidden now that his brother had himself a vessel, but they had to try. Dean had stressed the importance of allowing innocents or those who could do nothing to keep their ignorance so that their lives wouldn't be ruined fearing and worrying about things that they could do nothing about.  
  
The thought of what his brother might do next also bothered Michael greatly. Would Lucifer repeat what he'd done to Lawrence or would he shift his attention elsewhere? If he did the former, then he and Dean would have little choice but to confront Lucifer together. The problem with that, of course, was that they had no idea of what to do. They had no plan other than the fact that he couldn't, under any circumstances, kill his brother. While a huge relief as he'd never wanted to kill Lucifer even when he thought that he had to, it did leave them in a difficult position. Short of temporarily trapping his brother in Holy fire, there was no way to imprison Lucifer and he couldn't just try to dog his brother all over the globe either, not only would he inevitably be too late to save everyone, but it would keep both Dean and himself from seeking for alternative solutions. Not to mention the fact that constantly confronting his brother like that would almost certainly lead to putting him in a position where he had to make a choice between either killing Lucifer or being killed himself.  
  
If his death were to be beneficial, then Michael would lay down his life in a human heartbeat, but he'd never allow his brother to kill Dean. Nor would he allow his own death without clear proof that it was the only or best course of action as he was only all too well aware of the fact that he was the only one powerful enough to stand up to Lucifer. Oh he knew Raphael, Castiel and Raziel would do their best, but they simply didn't have the raw power necessary to stand up to Lucifer and win. Together the three of them  _might_  stand a chance, but definitely not alone.  
  
The metal image conjured at the thought of his brothers not succeeding in his absence made Michael shudder and he was more than happy to shift his focus when Sam and the others who had vanished during his musings returned. The excitement of his vessel's brother told him that they'd managed to locate the code cipher.  
  
A foreign sense of foreboding and excitement went through Michael and he looked at his bond brother with a frown. His initial suspicion that it hadn't  _felt_  like Dean was confirmed when his little one gave him the same look. But if the emotion hadn't been Dean's, then whose had it been and how had the two of them experienced it?  
  
As worrying as the thought was, Michael hardly had the time to ponder it before the others had reached them.  
  
"Father Giordano was right!" Sam began, nearly breathless with excitement and his whole demeanor almost vibrating in a way that disturbed Michael as much as it confused and confounded him. "The book was also exactly where he thought that it was too."  
  
"Where is it?" Dean asked.  
  
"Here," Father Giordano replied, stepping forward with a large book held carefully in his now gloved hands.  
  
Michael tried to learn the reason for the gloves directly from Dean's mind, but it seemed that his true vessel didn't actually know the reason himself, just that it was done with dreary old books. In addition he got the best equivalent that his bond brother could come up with for the poking of his Grace that Dean so loved to do whenever they were joined and he either annoyed or exasperated his vessel.  
  
"Here, allow me," Raziel said, reaching for the book. "I can keep my hands free from anything harmful to the pages and turn them more gently than you can."  
  
Surprised once more at his brother's extensive knowledge of humans, Michael nonetheless approached so that he could easily see everything. Father Giordano readily handed the large tome over to Raziel who carefully placed it on the table next to the scrolls.  
  
"The section that I saw those symbols in was towards the back of the book, after the original text," Father Giordano said.  
  
Raziel opened the tome towards the back and carefully began turning the pages. Seeing the frailty of the paper, Michael was once again reminded of the finite nature of all things on Earth. It was something which he'd pondered before, especially after his Father had first created mortal life, but now it affected him in a way that it never truly had before. Back then he'd always viewed mortality objectively but from an intellectual distance. He'd seen it as something new and different, to be pitied when the frailty and decay of advanced age set in but then to be envied when allowed into Heaven to rest if the soul in question had deserved such a reward. It had never truly affected him much beyond those vague musings however.  
  
Now, though... now it struck home in a way that Michael had never even imagined that it could before and he didn't even understand why.  
  
Sure, watching his precious vessel age and slowly die would have been difficult to bear at best, but Dean never would as Castiel had already ensured that his bond brother never suffered that kind of physical decline. And if his brother hadn't done it, then he himself would have. Nor did it make sense from a mortality perspective either because death for Dean would not be the same end as death for himself or any of his brothers and sisters would be. It was but a physical death for his vessel, Dean's soul would live on, so his little one's mortality really shouldn't disturb him like this, yet somehow, it did.  
  
Briefly Michael wondered if he was perhaps picking up on Dean's own feelings on the issue, but he didn't think so as he couldn't recall his bond brother ever brooding on the topic. Yes, he knew from Castiel and personal experience that Dean didn't look particularly kindly on Heaven, nor had any specific desire to go there, but he doubted that his bond brother would be terribly unhappy there either as Dean would have his bond mate, brother and friends there with him in addition to all of the new bond brothers and sisters that his vessel now had. He had to admit that he was looking forward to seeing how his friend handled that particular aspect of his bonding. He knew for a fact that his little one had no real understanding of just how many angels there were and most, if not all of them, would want to meet Castiel's chosen bond mate, especially as Dean was also the Righteous Man.  
  
All of which left Michael at a bit of a loss to either explain or understand his emotions as they made no logical sense whatsoever. Or were they not supposed to? Make sense that was. He could, effortlessly, recall dozens of situations where his vessel had said or done things which had defied all rational and logical explanations and, more often than not, he'd suspected that his bond brother had been driven by emotion. So perhaps he wasn't supposed to be able to make logical sense of what he was feeling now. He'd used to think that such emotion-driven irrationalities were one of the many flaws and weaknesses that his Father had given humans, but now it seemed quite clear to him that angels possessed the ability as well. They just didn't normally experience the depth of emotion necessary to bring it out. There was still a part of him that was predisposed to thinking of that as a bad thing, but now he knew better than to just assume that he was right. If there was one thing which both Dean and his Father had irrevocably proven to him, it was that emotions were a good thing. Michael merely wished that they didn't always have to complicate matters so much or make things so much more difficult.  
  
"Yes, that's it!" Dean proclaimed excitedly, drawing Michael's attention back to his surroundings.  
  
Raziel had obviously turned further and further to the back of the tome until they'd gotten to what had once been a series of blank pages as the script on them didn't match the meticulous and ornate calligraphy from the main portion of the book.  
  
"This was written by one of your ancestors," Raziel said, eyes quickly scanning the archaic writing.  
  
"That makes sense," Sam responded. "You said that they'd had this cipher at some point."  
  
"Yes, but this would imply that there was originally a different source," Michael said.  
  
Dean shrugged. "Things get lost, damaged or destroyed."  
  
"Well, either that or whoever wrote this was the person who invented the code in the first place," Colonel Anrig suggested. "Or do you have reason to believe that this isn't the case?"  
  
"It's possible," Raziel mused. "The scrolls are slightly older than this book, but it could simply be that the cipher wasn't written down until later."  
  
"What, that it was just passed on verbally before that?" Father Mancini asked.  
  
"For instance."  
  
"Does it really matter?" Dean questioned.  
  
"The source of the information determines its validity, Little One," Michael pointed out.  
  
"Yeah, but given how anyone could be a prophet or even get the odd vision or two, how are we to determine if it was valid now?"  
  
"There are no prophets in your line," Raziel stated. "All angels know the names of every prophet."  
  
"Even ones that might have married into the line?" Sam inquired.  
  
The proximity of Father Giordano to his vessel's brother and the fact that they'd been whispering to each other told Michael that the priest must have been doing his best to translate for Sam as he suddenly realized that somewhere along the line they'd all switched back into Italian. It was something he almost didn't even notice, the transition from one language to another, as he spoke all languages known to man as well as those of both Heaven and Hell and so had little need to differentiate between them. Instead he simply responded in whatever language he was addressed and so Father Mancini's shift from English back to Italian had shifted the entire conversation. The interesting thing was that Dean had done so as well and he wondered if his bond brother was even conscious of having done so. If not then perhaps that was a consequence of the way that he had given his bond brother the knowledge. Aware only of how angels knew a language, he doubted that he had programmed it in Dean's mind the way a normal human third language would be. That his vessel had still taken to it so easily was merely another instance of his vessel's easy ability to adapt to all things angelic.  
  
"Yes, even those," Raziel confirmed.  
  
"But that doesn't preclude a prophet having been close to your family," Michael said, deliberately switching back into English so that Sam could understand him directly. "In which case your ancestor might have been the scribe for Father's message."  
  
"And what is that actual message?" Dean inquired with a significant look at the tome and scrolls.  
  
"Right," Raziel said, beginning to look through the pages.  
  
Since he knew that human memory was fallible and that Dean preferred to have a written record to refer back to, Michael grabbed some paper and a pen and wrote down the plain text as he and Raziel figured it out, flipping through the book with no reference back to the original scrolls. He'd had the ciphertext memorized from the first time that he'd seen it and so had no need to do so. The seemingly mixed up order of the cipher, though, meant that he only knew the full meaning of the plaintext message shortly before his little one did as Dean had come to stand close behind him, reading over his shoulder. He'd briefly considered making a comment about that precious personal space that his vessel used to complain about so much, but the moment that fingers had reached out and carefully nudged an errant feather back into place the words had dried up in his mouth. He wasn't sure if Dean was even aware of doing it or whether the wing grooming had become second nature to his bond brother, but he definitely wasn't going to complain. Having another's fingers or touch on his wings had always felt good, but for it to be those of his vessel felt amazing. Castiel was a lucky angel to have found a bond mate as generous and beautiful as Dean and Michael could only pray that he did too someday.  
  
The moment that the meaning of the plain text because clear, though, Michael instantly forgot all about that and he only finished writing it out because it took less thought to do so than it would have to stop writing.  
  
Beside him, Dean took a deep breath and shock rippled between them. "Is that even possible?" his bond brother demanded, stunned.  
  
"What?" Sam demanded, pushing closer to see for himself.  
  
"I have never heard of something like this before," Michael replied, stepping back and drawing his little one with him by gently enfolding Dean in some of his wings.  
  
"I-" Raziel began before pausing with a frown. "I have not heard of it either, but now that I think of it, Father did say something once that kind of hinted at this."  
  
"What does it say?" Colonel Anrig questioned and Michael could tell that the human was only just stopping himself from pushing forward to see for himself.  
  
"It describes a method for containing an angel's power," Raziel stated dully.  
  
Michael could totally understand his brother's lack of outward emotions. He knew that he himself wouldn't be displaying any as he was still far too much in shock to be able to  _feel_  anything, let alone  _show_  it to others. Before today he hadn't even known that it was possible to bind an angel's power. He'd always thought that the only way for he or any other of his brothers and sisters to lose their power was to rip out their own Grace or to Fall. Well either that or for their Father to do so, just because He never had before didn't mean that Michael didn't think that He couldn't.  
  
"Wait, contain as in bind?" Dean demanded urgently. "As in not being able to use it?"  
  
"Yes," Michael confirmed, trying to use his vessel bond with his bond brother in order to share some of Dean's rapidly rising excitement.  
  
Of course Michael knew that he should be both happy and excited; this was the solution that they had been searching so desperately for after all. And, best of all, it didn't involve killing his own brother. Sure, he knew that Lucifer would hate it and possibly even wish that he had been killed instead, but for them it was perfect.  
  
"Can it bind all of his power?" Sam asked. "Or only some of it?"  
  
"Even if it is not all of his power, it will still be enough for us to end the Apocalypse," Raziel replied. "Lucifer is only just a match for Michael as it is, so any reduction would allow Michael to put an end to it all. And it is highly unlikely that this would only cause such a small reduction in power."  
  
"But will it hold?" Dean questioned, suddenly grave and Michael turned to look at his bond brother as genuine concern rolled off of Dean. "Will it last?"  
  
"What do you mean?" Sam asked.  
  
"You don't think that it'll work?" Raziel inquired with a frown.  
  
"No, I'm wondering if it'll be permanent," Dean clarified.  
  
Michael felt some of the elation that he'd finally started to feel fade as he got what it was that his vessel meant. "You fear that Lucifer and Simiel will be able to find a way to either counter or undo the effects of this."  
  
"They did with the Rite of Contressa."  
  
"Surely if God went to the trouble of giving someone the vision necessary to come up with this, He wouldn't just make it temporary," Sam argued.  
  
Dean threw his brother a look that Michael couldn't immediately identify but he had a feeling that it had something to do with his friend's lack of faith in Father. Though the thought still caused some instinctive form of condemnation deep within him and would probably always pain him, he had gotten to the point where he could understand a little of why his bond brother felt the way that he did. From Dean's point of view, God had never done anything tangible to help humanity and had instead vanished, leaving them alone to deal with the Apocalypse. And unlike him, his vessel didn't have the faith and knowledge that his Father had to have some lesson- some  _purpose_ \- to this to sustain him. After all that had happened to his little one, he knew that his Father would have a lot to make up for in order to gain Dean's forgiveness. His vessel's days of easily forgiving people were over, not that he thought that his Father would ever have qualified for that kind of leniency from his bond brother. The thought amused him in some odd way and, even more strangely, he didn't feel nearly as guilty as he'd once felt that he should have at that kind of thought.  
  
"Dude," Dean said. "I'd rather consider it and be prepared for the possibility than to be caught off-guard with our pants down if it does."  
  
"It is a valid concern," Michael replied. "But once we have Lucifer, and Simiel as I'd perform this on both, powered down, then we can imprison them in Heaven quite easily."  
  
"Indeed," Raziel agreed. "Once they are equal with one of the classes of lesser angels, restraining them becomes a valid possibility."  
  
That seemed to ease Dean a little but not all of his bond brother's tension faded and it put Michael on alert. His friend had proven to have excellent instincts in matters like these so if his vessel was still on edge, then he now knew better than to ignore the warning. He'd speak with Castiel, Raziel and Raphael about how best to ensure that neither Lucifer nor Simiel could ever harm anyone ever again if they succeeded in this option and managed to bind most of their power.  
  
"Some of this stuff isn't going to come cheap," Sam declared, looking at the list of ingredients.  
  
"The Vatican's got that covered for us," Dean stated with a nod at Father Mancini and the others. "Unlimited credit, remember?"  
  
"Dean! Some of this stuff starts at over half a million dollars, if we're extremely lucky."  
  
"Part of the reason why we gave your brother the credit card was precisely so that he could purchase and acquire rare and expensive ingredients," Colonel Anrig explained. "We knew that fighting Lucifer was likely to require access to rare and expensive items and we didn't want your brother to have to spend time acquiring the funds to get his hands on what he needed to save us all."  
  
"Oh," Sam commented.  
  
"That's fortunate as we won't be able to harvest or collect everything necessary ourselves," Michael said.  
  
"Really, why not?" Dean questioned.  
  
"Some of these need to remain pure and untouched by Grace until they have been combined or else their properties will be irrevocably altered."  
  
"Okay, well why don't you guys get what you can and Sam and I will see to getting the rest of this stuff."  
  
"That sounds like a plan," Raziel agreed. "Just beware that it will take at least two weeks to properly cultivate a Forbidden Blossom as it needs to come from a seed in Eden that has been washed in the Water of Life there before being planted in the ancient Hanging Gardens of Babylon until it flowers."  
  
"Eden?" Father Giordano breathed in awe.  
  
"You mean  _the_  ancient Hanging Gardens?" Sam questioned, stunned. "The ones of Nebuchadnezzar II? You're going back there for this?"  
  
"Seed?" Dean asked. "You mean from one of those funky fruits on the trees next to the kalsika?"  
  
A second wave of shock rippled through the room only this time it was all focused on Dean and it occurred to Michael how unaware of the effect that he had on others his little one was sometimes. He was slowly starting to learn, though, that it was just a part of who his vessel was. At least comments that seemed as innocuous to Dean as that one did allow others to realize just how special his bond brother was and he knew it would make those who might otherwise not do so treat his vessel right.  
  
"Eden?" Father Mancini whispered. "You've been to Eden and seen the garden and fruit there?"  
  
"Uh, yeah, Mike and I went a while back," Dean explained.  
  
"What's a kalsika?" Sam inquired with a frown.  
  
Dean tilted his head, clearly considering his brother before his friend shifted so that Dean's back was to those of the Vatican present before he tapped his wedding band. Michael tried but failed to understand the look that passed between them, but his bond brother clearly came to a decision in the process.  
  
"Mike, could you take Sam and I to the apartment on the way back?" Dean asked. "I probably should clear it out and give it up seeing as we don't spend any time there anymore."  
  
"Of course," Michael replied.  
  
"I believe that we have some of these items here," Father Giordano stated, looking at the plain text.  
  
"I shall remain here and collect them," Raziel offered. "You go ahead and take Dean and Sam, Michael."  
  
"Thanks for all of your help," Dean said, looking at the Vatican officials.  
  
"It was our pleasure," Father Mancini stated.  
  
"Do let us know if you require anything else," Colonel Anrig added.  
  
"We will," Dean promised.


	188. Chapter 187

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Michael take Sam to the apartment where Sam sees the Andaluzyian crystal and kalsika for the first time.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
The moment that they landed in the living room, Dean's eyes sought out his and Castiel's Andaluzyian crystal. He hadn't quite realized until he saw it again just how much that he'd missed being able to just look at it or to reach out and touch it. To him it was the clear centrepiece of the room and he went straight for it, picking it up and smiling at the memories that it produced and the echo of their bonding emotions. He sent what he felt as a result along the bond to his husband and got a wave of similar emotions in return.  
  
Now that they had a potential solution to their problems, Dean resolved to do what he could to make some more time with his husband. They'd had precious little of it as of late and the thought of facing Lucifer, even with Michael quite literally  _with_  him, filled him with a sense of foreboding.  
  
"Nice," Sam said and Dean turned to find his little brother looking around. "Not bad at all, though it's really weird to think of you as having settled down somewhere."  
  
"Yeah, well, Cas was injured," Dean shrugged, trying not to think of just how badly hurt his angel had been hurt. "He wanted to stay with me though, so I had to get somewhere that we wouldn't draw any attention to ourselves."  
  
"I see. Still odd, though, especially with how clean it is, if a little dusty."  
  
"That's 'cause no one's been here to dust, bitch."  
  
"Excuses, jerk."  
  
Almost as soon as his brother had mentioned it, the dust vanished and Dean sent Michael a smile. "Give me a few minutes to get everything together and then we can leave. I'll cancel the lease via e-mail later."  
  
"What's that?" Sam asked, pointing to the iridescent crystal.  
  
"It's one of the grounding items used during the angelic mating ritual. This one's an Andaluzyian crystal and was used in the final step. I've also got a kalsika in the bedroom which is used during what's best thought of as the engagement," Dean explained. "Mike can tell you all about it while I get everything together."  
  
With that Dean left his brother and bond brother together in the living room. He dropped the crystal onto the stripped bed (his father's training still stuck in a lot of ways) and grabbed one of the duffels that he'd bought for this particular day as he'd always known that sooner or later they'd have to leave. Though he'd miss the place for some of the things that had happened here, he knew that they could do better and he planned on getting somewhere nicer if they survived the final showdown with Lucifer.  
  
Not wanting to contemplate the possibility that they wouldn't too closely, Dean began shoving his extra clothing and the bedding that they'd acquired into the duffel. When he reached the special sheets that they used for the chocolate sauce, he smiled, looking forward to using them with the caramel sauce that Castiel wanted to try out. The crystal he tucked away carefully in the middle where it was sure to be safe even if he knew that Angelic Air was extremely unlikely to cause it to break. There were some things that he just wasn't willing to take any risks with whatsoever. Even with settling down, he hadn't acquired all that much, so he was soon done with the really warm earth-toned blanket that his angel had gotten him in Nepal going on top.  
  
He'd be able to start using that soon and Dean couldn't help but think back to the blanket that his mother had wrapped him in sometimes when he'd complained of being cold or feeling ill as a child. It had been lost in the fire along with everything else and he hadn't realized how much he'd missed it up until now, so he looked forward to creating some good memories with this one, though, admittedly, they'd be of a whole 'nother nature than those he had of the first blanket. What they'd have in common, though, was that he'd be genuinely happy in both sets of memories.  
  
In the bathroom there were only the extra bottles of the fancy shampoo and shower gel whose scent Castiel had taken a fancy to. Then Dean just had to grab their kalsika and he was done with clearing the first two rooms. He paused a moment or two just to savor the echoes of what both he and his husband had felt when initiating the kalsika but that was all that he needed. It was so much less than what he got to experience on a permanent basis now that it was hard to imagine how difficult it had been to let go of that first time. But since it proved just how strong their bond was and exactly how far he himself had come, he couldn't really bring himself to care too much about that.  
  
"Okay, done in there," Dean said, stepping back into the living room only to find that Sam and Michael had gotten boxes from somewhere and had emptied the kitchen cupboards and packed away all of the books left behind here.  
  
"Wow," Sam muttered in awe, staring at his and Castiel's kalsika.  
  
Dean had grown so used to the kalsika's light show that he'd long since lost the initial awe of it and had instead moved more towards finding it soothing and comforting. It was what he'd both fallen asleep and woken up to for so long as to have become intimately familiar, but it didn't take much to remember just how stunning he'd initially found it.  
  
"I take it that's your kalsika?" Sam inquired, moving forward to get a better look at it.  
  
"Yeah," Dean confirmed, sidestepping when his little brother reached out to touch it. "No offense, but it still retains the echoes of what Cas and I felt when we initiated it and that's kinda private."  
  
Dean didn't know if he wanted to laugh or feel mildly insulted at the face that Sam pulled at that information or how quickly his little brother pulled his hand back.  
  
"Oh, yeah, I see," Sam muttered, stepping back.  
  
If Dean didn't want to protect the connection and bond he had with his husband so much, then he'd have shoved the kalsika at his little brother and let him feel just how much his angel meant to him, but he couldn't. His husband was his and he wasn't going to share that with anyone, not even if it could help make things easier with Sam. So, yeah, it seemed like his bond mate wasn't the only one with a jealous streak.  
  
" _Dean?_ " Castiel inquired over their bond.  
  
" _Yeah? Oh, oops, sorry, it's nothing,_ " Dean replied, realizing just how firmly that he'd been clutching at the bond.  
  
It was a little embarrassing but his angel's amusement made it all okay.  
  
"Uh, is there anything else that you want to tell me, Dean? A new hobby perhaps?" Sam asked, voice pitched in that oh so annoying way that only little brothers could achieve.  
  
Glancing over, Dean saw that Sam had found the pillow that his neighbor had made him. "Shut up, bitch," he retorted, snatching the pillow. "Neighbor made it for me after I fixed her car."  
  


* * *

  
Finished with the last book on meditation that he had, Dean closed it and tossed it aside carelessly on the couch. He'd chosen to do his research on the comfort of the sofa today rather than in the library partially due to the subject matter he was studying and partially as he wasn't feeling up to sitting on the hard, uncomfortable chairs in the library any longer. They were fine for a short while, but he'd had another nightmare last night and without his husband to snuggle up to, he'd decided to get up and do something useful instead, rather than risk a repeat occurrence.  
  
That some of the books had been in Enochian really hadn't helped him forget his dream, but Dean knew that they didn't have the luxury of indulging his sensibilities just now. Not with Lucifer revesseled and making up for lost time. Which meant just cracking on with it even if he'd rather not be reminded of the latest memory that he'd gotten from Michael. If they didn't have far more pressing matters to deal with first, he'd demand that they find an answer as to why this was happening to him, or them rather as he was sure that Michael would prefer that he didn't keep reliving the highlights (lowlights?) of his archangel's worst memories.  
  
Dean had actually started his reading off in the library and had made really good progress by the time that Bobby had stuck his head in to see who was up. They'd had breakfast together with Gwen before the two of them had headed off to go collect some of the spell ingredients that Bobby had tracked down which his angels couldn't get. His ass had already been complaining by that time, so he'd decided to continue in the living room after the meal, which had prompted Gwen to light some of her scented candles in order to 'relax him' and help him get in the mood before she and Bobby had left. He'd heard Sam get up not long after, but his brother had pretty much made a beeline for the front door, cursing the weather as he went so Dean assumed that Sam had errands he wanted to run before they got snowed in.  
  
That had been more hours ago than Dean liked to think about and his eyes felt dry and gritty. If he'd actually felt that he'd learned anything useful he wouldn't have minded so much, but he hadn't. Sure, he now knew all the different ways to go about meditating and allowing himself to slip into a deep trance like the one that the scrolls said it was necessary for him to reach in order to be able to help Michael perform the spell to bind Lucifer and Simiel's powers, but he didn't feel any more prepared in order to actually do it. It all still struck him all as so much bull and he'd much rather just wing it as they had before all of the previous times that he and Michael had worked together. Pity for him that the focusing crystal apparently didn't work like that.  
  
Stupid crystal.  
  
With a good stretch, Dean eyed the fireplace and decided that the ever-growing pile of snow outside, especially since it wasn't even December!, meant that he could get a blaze going. Besides, s'mores made a good lunch and he doubted that they were something which his angel had tried before, an oversight that needed to be rectified at once now that he realized its existence.  
  
Decision made, Dean got up and piled some of the wood that he'd already collected and brought in into the fireplace along with some old newspaper. The thought of burning some of the books crossed his mind briefly and made him smile but he knew that Bobby and Sam would kill him if he did and he wasn't entirely sure that he could rely on his husband to save him in that particular scenario either. Which was a pity but knowing his luck, he'd end up burning precisely the book that they'd need to win the Apocalypse. The newspaper and kindling caught quickly and it wasn't long before he had a good blaze going.  
  
Dean put the fire screen before it to make sure that the fire stayed in the hearth before he got up and went to the kitchen. He grabbed a banana from the fruit basket on the way past before getting all of the s'more making supplies that he'd already acquired in preparation for exactly a day like this, though he hadn't really expected it to come quite so soon. By the time that he got back to the living room, he found that he was humming to himself and he wondered if that was going to become a new habit as he'd been doing it more and more as of late. He angel had even caught him singing last week. As long as it was all good stuff then he supposed that he shouldn't care too much. There were worse habits to have after all.  
  
" _Hey, Cas, you got some free time?_ " Dean sent silently as he removed the fire screen. " _I'm about to make s'mores!_ "  
  
There was the faint rustling of wings behind him.  
  
"What are s'mores?" Castiel asked.  
  
"Yummy, gooey chocolate and marshmallow goodness on a cracker," Dean replied, opening his banana and taking a bite as he motioned for his husband to join him on the soft rug before the hearth.  
  
"So they are a dessert."  
  
"Yep. Okay, so to make s'mores, you take a stick or skewer like this," Dean began, picking up one of the skewers that he'd brought out into the living room with him. "Then you take a marshmallow and put it onto the end, just far enough so that it won't fall off, but not any further either or it'll become hard to get off later."  
  
His husband frowned as he picked up a marshmallow. "These are not natural."  
  
"Nope," Dean agreed easily. "They're about as artificial as you can get, but damn are they good! Now once you have it on the skewer, you hold it over the fire like this." Castiel followed his lead and held his skewer over the fire when ready. "Good. Now, unless you like your marshmallow blackened, you need to keep an eye on it and turn it so that it doesn't burn. Personally I like them best slightly brown on all sides."  
  
With his free hand, Dean pulled out two decent sized pieces of graham cracker and two big chunks of chocolate. He put the chocolate on the crackers and pushed the plate closer to the fire so that the heat would soften the chocolate.  
  
"Are we going to put the marshmallows on those when they are ready?" Castiel inquired.  
  
"Yep," Dean replied cheerfully, nothing that his angel's marshmallow was turning a perfect golden brown.  
  
A perfect golden brown that he knew from years of s'more making experience was impossible to achieve. At least normally anyway. It amused him that his husband was cheating and using his Grace for this.  
  
"Would this qualify as the type of snack which could give you a sugar high?" Castiel asked.  
  
"If I ate enough of them, I suppose. Why?"  
  
"I would like to see you on one."  
  
Dean laughed. "What? Why?"  
  
"Because you were extremely happy the last time Sam accused you of being on one. It was enjoyable to watch and experience."  
  
Boy was Dean suddenly glad that none of the others were around as he'd never hear the end of it otherwise. That said, though, a part of him couldn't help but melt a little at his husband's words and the sentiment behind them. It went right along with his angel's comment from a few months ago that he didn't laugh enough and it seemed like Castiel was determined to change that no matter how it was achieved. Personally he thought that his bond mate already had as he knew that he laughed a lot more these days- not to mention the fact that he was infinitely happier- than before. But, hey, if someone  _wanted_  him to go on a sugar high, then who was he to either complain or refuse?  
  
"How about this? When we get Lucifer you can take me somewhere where they have phenomenal desserts and I'll make sure that I get the sugar high of my life," Dean proposed.  
  
"Why wait?" Castiel pressed. "Why not now?"  
  
"Well, beyond the fact that Sam would kill me when he gets back?"  
  
"Why?"  
  
Dean snorted. "Because sugar high people are generally a generally a pain in the ass. They're hyper and giddy and tend to knock things over or mess things up. Not to mention that all of that energy and excitement alone can grate on the nerves of those not on a high. You saw how even Bobby was ready to strangle me the last time."  
  
"Why?" Castiel frowned.  
  
"Because it can be annoying. Since you can literally  _feel_  my high and therefore also experience it, you can't quite get how grating it can be."  
  
"I would still like to see you on one."  
  
"Like I said, definitely later."  
  
His marshmallow ready, Dean pulled his skewer from the fire and pulled the plate closer. With a frown, he started picking at a small burnt bit but was quickly stopped by his angel who took care of it without risking a burn.  
  
"Thanks," Dean said. "Now you take the marshmallow off the skewer and put it onto the chocolate and cracker."  
  
Since his angel seemed so eager to help and save him sore fingers, Dean let Castiel do that bit while he put new marshmallows on the second set of skewers that he'd brought. They'd come in packs of six at the store and since one s'more was just never enough, he'd brought enough for two setups into the living room with him.  
  
"The chocolate is starting to run off the crackers," Castiel warned.  
  
"That's okay, it always happens. S'mores are supposed to be messy to eat, otherwise you haven't made them right."  
  
"I've cooled the marshmallows enough to not burn your tongue and mouth."  
  
"You're awesome," Dean stated, delighted.  
  
Enthusiastically, he picked up his s'more and bit into it, making a loud sound of appreciation in the back of his throat as he did so. His husband was a little slower to act, but Dean watched closely as Castiel took his first bite. His angel's expression was pensive for a moment before his bond mate nodded once. So, pleasing for Castiel but not as big of a hit as some of the other things that he'd introduced his husband to.  
  
"The mix of textures and tastes is pleasing," Castiel stated as soon as his mouth was clear.  
  
"I hadn't thought of it like that," Dean admitted. "It's just always been a s'more to me."  
  
The second set of marshmallows was ready by the time that Dean had finished his first one and he dove right into it, much to his angel's amusement.  
  


* * *

  
Lazy as Dean was just now, Castiel could easily see the tension that Michael had mentioned and he frowned. Not only did he share his brother's concern about what his bond mate's instincts might mean, but he also wanted to see his hunter relax as he feared that things would move quickly now and that they wouldn't have the opportunity to unwind much before they had to face Lucifer.  
  
Either some of his thoughts must have leaked out across their bond or his human was thinking the same thing because before Castiel could instigate anything, Dean was leaning towards him. He met the kiss halfway and started to bring his wings around to envelope his bond mate, but he froze when Dean reared back in shock and sudden fear.  
  
"Fuck," Dean muttered, eyes wide as his bond mate clutched a hand to his chest.  
  
"What's wrong?" Castiel demanded instantly alert.  
  
"Nothing, I just... I saw your wings move through the fire and for a moment it made me think of..."  
  
"Meg."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
The reminder made Castiel shudder but he could now easily understand why his bond mate had reacted the way that he had. That was all the time that he had for reflection, though, as Dean moved close once more and he'd far rather focus on his hunter instead. A quick scan of the building told him that they were alone, so he vanished their clothes.  
  
When Castiel pulled back from the kiss in order to allow Dean to breathe, he was fascinated with the play of both fire and candlelight over his bond mate. The dancing pattern of light and shadow caressed his hunter's skin like a lover, teasingly revealing and hiding the beloved skin and freckles. He leaned down to where some of the shadow played, licking and kissing the skin, making his bond mate moan. In response, Dean's hands came to rest in his wings and before he'd even really thought of it, he'd shifted his right set of wings forward, giving his human better access to the scared silvery feathers located there.  
  
It was only because Meg had just been mentioned that Castiel was even aware of doing it and he marvelled at the action and his own change in attitude towards those feathers. When it had first become obvious that the wound would scar rather than heal properly, he'd been horrified and hated the blight on his wings. Dean's attention and constant reassurances, though, had clearly affected him more than he'd ever thought even possible and he was glad for it.  
  
Then his hunter shifted his head, seeking out his lips once more and Castiel obliged even as he pulled Dean close, into his lap. His bond mate came easily and he swept his hands up the broad expanse of his human's back and he suddenly couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to feel wings there. Having never had a lover before Dean, he truly didn't know but he had no idea why the thought occurred to him now.  
  
The moment that his bond mate's fingers found his oil glands, though, all rational thought fled and Castiel moaned into Dean's mouth. The expert fingers continued to milk him and his hands tightened on his hunter's hips and he used the hold as leverage to pull his bond mate down on top of him when he leaned back onto the rug before the fire. The change in position brought their weeping cocks together and he bucked up automatically, desperately seeking more friction. Dean ground down at the same time and they moaned, the sound suddenly louder when his hunter released his lips and pulled up just enough to see his face.  
  
Castiel opened his own eyes and his breath caught at the sight. Dean's hair and eyes now had the shadow play that his skin had earlier as the fire and candlelight danced across them, alternatively painting them in light or darkness. It made his hunter even more breathtaking and he reached up to pull his bond mate back down into another kiss. It was a brief one, though, as Dean shifted slightly and began nipping at his jaw instead before drifting lower. He moaned once more as those clever lips found one of his nipples at the same time as Dean's hand found his cock, slicking it with his own oil.  
  
That confused Castiel for a moment as the emotions he felt along their bond indicated that his human wanted to be in charge today, but then he let it go. Whatever Dean wanted to do would be fine with him though he couldn't still a little noise of protest when his bond mate's touch vanished from his aching erection. He felt Dean smile against his skin before the touch was back, further down. His bond mate toyed with his balls and Castiel began to writhe, wings flapping restlessly before the innermost pair came to fold around his hunter. Though it cut off the firelight somewhat, he was hoping that the sensation of soft feathers on sensitive skin might spur his bond mate on to move faster. In response, Dean bit down on the skin that his hunter had been kissing a moment before and he moaned. Before he could try to tempt Dean in some other fashion, though, his human's head moved lower and a slick finger circled his entrance.  
  
Castiel shifted his hips slightly to give Dean better access even as he felt his glands start to produce more oil. He had the brief thought that the rug would smell of him before it became irrelevant as his bond mate's finger slipped into him and Dean began prepping him. Since they were alone in the house, he allowed some of his Grace to slip free of his vessel to reach out and caress his bond mate directly. This time it was Dean who moaned and Castiel nearly groaned as his hunter abandoned the skin of his chest in order to turn his face into his Grace, nuzzling it. Their eyes met and probably would have held if his hunter hadn't used that moment to stop stretching him and reached out to his prostate instead.  
  
"Dean!" Castiel cried out. "Now, please, Beloved!"  
  
"Now what, Cas?" Dean teased, though Castiel could feel how close his human's restraint was to snapping.  
  
"Take me. Fuck me!"  
  
He hadn't used those particular words for a while, but Castiel could tell that they still had the same impact as before on his bond mate by the way that Dean reacted, bucking against him before pulling his hand free. The feeling of loss was immediately ameliorated by the fact that his beloved's hand went straight for his nearest oil gland and began to milk it. Not wanting to miss what came next, he pushed himself up onto his elbows to watch Dean slick himself up. The view was made even more breathtaking by the play of firelight on his bond mate's sweat-slicked body.  
  
"Beloved," Castiel breathed, catching Dean's attention.  
  
Their eyes locked and held and Castiel could feel their bond surging with both of their attention fully focused on it. Then his hunter surged forwards physically as well, claiming his lips even as Dean shifted and he could feel his bond mate's cock nudging at his entrance. He moaned into his human's mouth as Dean slid in in one smooth and easy thrust.  
  
"Cas," Dean moaned against his lips.  
  
"Dean," Castiel replied, tightening his arms and wings around his bond mate.  
  
The tendril of Grace that Castiel had allowed out snaked over Dean's skin, caressing it as his bond mate set up a slow pace, clearly determined to drag this out as much as possible. Whether it was because of the lazy feel that had come before or something else entirely he didn't know, but he enjoyed the slow, steady pace. It allowed him to really feel his bond mate moving above him and the drag and thrust of Dean's cock deep within him. The fact that his hunter wasn't yet hitting his prostate allowed him to maintain his focus and he savored it, running his hands down his bond mate's sides, to Dean's hips and then back up his human's back and then back down to Dean's undulating hips once more.  
  
Unusually for an angel, time lost all meaning for Castiel and he had no idea for how long they moved together like that. All he knew was that somewhere along the line Dean had pulled his head back just far enough so that they could look each other in the eye and his gaze locked onto those beloved eyes that currently flickered from black to viridian green in the dancing firelight. All he knew was that the speed and mood shifted the moment that Dean adjusted the angle of his thrusts and hit his prostate head on. He threw his head back with a wordless cry and his hunter used the opportunity to latch onto the soft skin of his throat. The sudden sharp nips made him lower his head to chase those disobedient lips and their resulting kiss became a duel of wills which Dean won but only due to a well-timed thrust of his hunter's hips.  
  
Then Castiel could feel Dean starting to lose himself as his bond mate's orgasm struck and he began to come as well due to the feel of his hunter's doing so and the flood of hot cum deep within him. His Grace surged forwards, engulfing his bond mate as he came and Castiel was vaguely aware of Dean crying out at that, but the sensations from their bond told him that it was from extreme pleasure.


	189. Chapter 188

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam finally comes to a revelation about his brother and Castiel after witnessing them in a private moment.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
God, but it was colder than a witch's tit out there!  
  
The moment that Sam realized that the expression had crossed his mind, he groaned. It was one that Dean had delighted in using back when his big brother had just started high school and had first heard it from some of the older kids at school. Just how Dean had convinced the seniors to let him hang with them he wasn't entirely sure, but it could quite possibly have had something to do with the Impala. His brother had been driving it at the time since Dad had been recovering from a broken leg courtesy of an enraged poltergeist. Regardless, Dean had learned the expression and taken a perverse delight in using it given their circumstances.  
  
"You're a bad influence, Dean," Sam muttered under his breath as he shrugged off the layers of protective clothing that he'd put on to brave the freezing temperatures.  
  
Sam said it fondly though as his big brother had been the one to get him through his childhood. He could see that now that he looked back at the time analytically instead of letting his old anger cloud his judgment. Sure, Dean had almost always followed all of Dad's orders, but his brother had done what he could, or rather take those orders literally instead of more broadly as their father had no doubt intended them. The other thing that he could now also see was that his brother had been a child too, even if Dean had never been allowed a child's freedom as he had been. Much as he'd hated hunting, he'd at least been granted eight blissful years of ignorance, Dean had not as their father had needed someone who was aware of the dangers at home while Dad was off hunting or trying to track down the demon.  
  
Not really wanting to think about it, Sam hung up his outdoor gear and enjoyed the indoor warmth. Winter had hit hard and fast this year, abnormally so and he couldn't help but wonder if Lucifer wasn't behind it somehow. After what Crowley had told Dean, he'd be more surprised if the devil  _wasn't_  behind it. After all, now that Lucifer had found himself a vessel, why wouldn't the archangel begin wreaking havoc? It was just the kind of temper tantrum that he'd expect from the devil and given his past experiences and unfortunate temperament similarities with Lucifer, he should really know.  
  
The wonderful smell of pine in the air told Sam that someone had started a fire in the living room and he grabbed the books that he'd managed to get before being forced to abandon the rest of his planned stops before the snow deteriorated conditions any further. He'd have to see if Castiel wouldn't mind giving him a lift to the supermarket, though he doubted the angel would refuse, not while Dean was in the house and would demand food. The thought made him smile, his brother really did have the angel wrapped around his little finger.  
  
As Sam got closer to the living room he became aware of another scent in the air that seemed familiar to him but he couldn't quite identify it under the mix of pine, scented perfume from some of Gwen's candles and what smelled strongly of Castiel. This last distracted him as he hadn't even been aware that the angel had his own scent, much less that he knew it enough to be able to identify it. Neither of which, even if accepted, would explain why he could smell it now, when Castiel was still in another room. Part of him decided that he was probably better off not knowing no matter how curious he was on the subject. His curiosity had already earned him a need for a lifetime's supply of brain bleach as it was. But how the hell was it that he could smell Castiel all the way out here?  
  
The question became unimportant to Sam a moment later when he got to the door of the living room and caught sight of the occupants. Unsurprisingly Dean was in the room, but that had been a given from the moment that he'd first realized that the hearth had been lit. His older brother loved putting a fire on and had always taken the opportunity to do so when they stayed somewhere with a fireplace in the past. He'd always thought that it had to do with the smores that Dean always made as soon as he got a good blaze going. Now, though, he couldn't help but wonder if it hadn't also had anything to do with the fact that fires, unlike central heating, were free if you could source the wood yourself, something which had never been a problem for his brother who'd always known where the closest woods were so Dean could go do target practice whenever he wanted to. Either way, his brother had always liked fires and so with the excuse of the abnormally bad weather, it had only been a matter of time before his brother put the hearth to use.  
  
So, no, seeing Dean in the living room before the fire was no surprise to Sam. Seeing his macho big brother  _snuggling_ , however, was. Not to mention the fact that  _Castiel was the one holding Dean_  rather than the other way around. Distantly he realized what exactly it was that he'd smelled earlier but while he was disgusted, he wasn't particularly surprised either (it was Dean, after all!) so that knowledge failed to overcome the shock of what he was witnessing.  
  
Dean was allowing himself to be held!  
  
His brother was essentially playing the little spoon, or would be if Dean wasn't turned towards his husband. For the first time since Sam had learned about Dean and Castiel's marriage- bonding, whatever!- he felt that he could actually believe it. He wasn't quite sure what it was, but something about seeing his big brother letting his defenses down so completely brought it all home to him in a way that nothing else ever had before. Dean just  _didn't_  do vulnerable, not even with him, so for his brother to do it with his angel told him all that he needed to know about their relationship and the word husband seemed hardly even seemed enough to describe it with Dean involved.  
  
Strangely enough, witnessing this also gave Sam hope that they could win this Apocalypse. After all, if Castiel could perform the miracle that it would have taken to get Dean Winchester of all people to this place emotionally (and to have his brother be happy and content to be there!), then surely the archangel could perform others. And speaking of Castiel, he suddenly became aware of the fact that his brother-in-law (and God, wasn't  _that_  odd?) had noticed his presence and was watching him. Feeling like he'd been caught snooping, he gave a nervous smile even as he caught sight of the bag of marshmallows on the floor by the fire.  
  
At least it was good to know that while some things changed, others remained exactly the same.  
  
Briefly the thought that he'd trespassed where he shouldn't have and that his friend was going to tell him off for doing so occurred to Sam but then the moment passed. Yes, this was something which really should have been private, but it wasn't his fault that it hadn't remained so. Dean and Castiel were the ones who'd done it in the living room instead of their bedroom and, yeah, he wasn't going to be able to go in there again without thinking of this for a while! He was only thankful that one of them'd had the foresight to grab a blanket to cover themselves with as he  _really_  didn't want to get any kind of eye full whatsoever. He'd already had more than enough of those of his big brother as it was, as for Castiel... well he was perfectly happy keeping as much of his former 'angels are incompatible with sex' belief as it was possible to maintain given the circumstances. Even just seeing his new brother-in-law's naked arms, shoulders and upper chest was jarring enough. He didn't think that he'd ever seen Castiel out his usual suit and trench coat before and his only glimpse of that meatsuit without the trench coat and suit jacket had been when Jimmy had been in control of it.  
  
Not wanting to disturb them (more out of fear of  _what_  he'd see than anything else), Sam slowly backed away into the hall once more and elected to head up to his room. He could log into his computer up there and see if he couldn't track down some of the other ingredients needed for the scroll spell that Michael had said that the angels couldn't get their hands on.  
  
Sam was still shaking his head over how that thought had even become part of his life, let alone his day-to-day life, at all when the light show at the end of the hall caught his eye. At first he thought that it was the sunlight reflecting off of a pool of water somewhere, but not only was there no sun out today, but the colors were all wrong as well. As soon as that occurred to him, he instantly realized what it was.  
  
The kalsika.  
  
 _Dean and Castiel's_  kalsika.  
  
The memory of it made Sam's mouth go dry. The fact that it came from Eden alone would have fascinated him even if it had been as plain and boring as a rock, so the fact that it wasn't made it all but irresistible to him. Which was clearly evidenced by how he'd stepped close to touch it without even thinking about it at Dean's old apartment. Knowing what he would have felt had he done so made him glad that his brother had stopped him but it completely failed to lessen his fascination with the kalsika any.  
  
Unable to help himself, Sam quickly dumped his stuff in his own room before heading for Dean and Castiel's room. And boy did that still sound odd even in his head.  _Dean and Castiel's room_. Thing was, it was strange not just for the obvious reason but also because, as an angel, Castiel didn't sleep. Which left the obvious question of what his friend did all night while Dean slept. You could only hold and watch someone else sleep for so long after all. Although, on second thought, this  _was_  Castiel he was thinking about so that could actually be exactly what the angel was doing all night long. The thought made him shudder and he wasn't sure how his brother could even fall asleep knowing that his husband would be staring at him. It would be a sure fire way to keep  _him_  up all night!  
  
The water reflection-like light shown on the wall really was amazing and Sam stopped to just marvel at it for a few moments. Doing so he couldn't help but wonder what Eden looked like, being full of kalsika. Turning around, he only hesitated briefly before entering his brother's room. Not only was the door open, but Dean of all people was the absolute last person who could complain to him about invasion of privacy in this sense, not after all of the times that his big brother had gone rummaging through his stuff over the years. Besides, it wasn't like he was going to touch anything, just look at it.  
  
The kalsika along with what Sam assumed was the Andalyzian crystal from Michael's description of it were on the dresser across the room from the bed. In the room its light was even brighter and he couldn't help but just stare at it in awe. From what Michael had said, he knew that the natural color of an uninitiated kalsika was a yellow-white like the sun so he knew that all of the colors that he was seeing now came from either his brother or Castiel somehow. Given that he neither believed in color associations and the peculiar look that Michael had given him when he'd inquired about it, he didn't have the first clue about  _why_  these particular colors had come through on their kalsika from Dean and his brother-in-law, but they definitely were bold, strong colors that went well together.  
  
Much like Dean and Castiel, Sam supposed. Just because he was only now starting to see the deeper, romantic connection between the two didn't mean that he'd been blind to the connection that had existed between them before. They'd always just clicked on a level that he'd (honestly) been somewhat jealous of, because not only had his brother never had a real friend before and so he was used to being the center of Dean's attention, but also because he just hadn't quite ever understood it. Though he'd never  _disliked_  Castiel per se, the angel had been so extremely alien in so many ways that he'd had some real trouble connecting with him and he still sometimes wondered if they were on the same wavelength. All of his preconceptions of what angels were like and how they behaved definitely hadn't helped matters any either, that was for sure. But now Sam couldn't help but wonder if Castiel's very non-human nature wasn't exactly why Dean had been drawn to the angel on some level in the first place. It wasn't that he thought that his brother couldn't connect with other people, but just that it hadn't escaped his notice how Dean often failed to fully relax around them. Instead his big brother always still seemed to be on edge somehow, perhaps afraid that he'd say or do something that would mark him as different somehow even if no one recognized him for the hunter that he was.  
  
The thought made Sam wince as he thought of how hard he'd pushed to get his brother out of hunting after Stull Cemetery. He could now see that he'd been pushing his own hopes and dreams onto Dean, though it had taken a while for him to do so. A part of him would always regret the circumstances that had brought his brother into this life and to this point, but so long as Dean was happy hunting, then he supposed that he really couldn't complain. Especially now that he knew that his brother would always have reliable and capable backup with him or there at a moment's notice.  
  
That the help would come via a call along Dean's new bond drew Sam's attention back to the shimmering kalsika. Leaning forward, he examined it close up and tried to imagine the kind of connection that it created between two people. Michael had struggled to try and describe it as the archangel only really knew of it in the abstract or from how Dean viewed it, neither of which lent itself particularly well to a verbal description. What had been made irrevocably clear between what Michael had been able to convey and what Dean had told him about it, was that it was a deep, life-altering thing to experience. It terrified him more than a little in some ways, but he was pretty sure that was due to the fact that his only experience of that kind of close connection with another being was of having been Meg's host. It wasn't even remotely the same thing, he knew, but that was the only time that he'd ever been closer to another living being than the confines of his meatsuit allowed.  
  
So, yeah, the idea of that kind of bond was not really a good one for him but Dean clearly had no regrets.  
  
It still boggled Sam's mind even now to think of the fact that it had been his brother who had done the angelic equivalent of propose to Castiel instead of the other way around and had therefore initiated all of this. He'd seen Dean with countless women over the years and only twice had he ever even seen his big brother make any kind of true connection and that had been with Cassie and Lisa, and even those hadn't been anything like this. So to find out that Dean had gone from that commitment phobia to voluntarily and willingly  _initiating_  a connection and bond so much more serious and binding than anything that normal people could ever even dream of was shocking no matter how you looked at it.  
  
As such Sam didn't think that it had been wrong of him to be suspicious of what had happened when he'd first learned of it, though he could now readily admit that he could have handled it far better than he had. He'd just been concerned for his brother, though, and the memory of how he'd treated Dean's own concern about Ruby made him wince. Part of him still wanted to protest that things had been different then and provide some excuse for his behavior, but he instantly suppressed it. The fact that he was currently standing in his brother's room and that said room was in the same house as his own gave him strength though, as did his improved relationship with Dean as of late. He wasn't stupid enough to think that he had unlimited chances with his big brother anymore and much as that fact still shocked him in a lot of ways, it also served to sober him and give him the strength that he needed to finally shove his own bullshit aside.  
  
Between Samuel's death and Christian's utter stupidity, Dean and Gwen were the only family that Sam had left and he wasn't going to lose either of them if he could help it. Well, not the only family, he mused as he looked at the glowing kalsika once more. He had Castiel as well, much as he'd never expected to have a  _brother_ -in-law. And, like it or not, but Michael and Raphael were now also permanent fixtures in his life even if the thought that they were Dean's  _brothers_  on some level now made him feel vaguely ill. He'd never really had to share Dean like that before and didn't think that he could do so gracefully, not at first anyway. And the irony of that word- gracefully- wasn't lost on him in the slightest.  
  
Sam couldn't help but wonder if it would have been easier if there was just one of them but he didn't think so. At least not to his gut reaction even if it might be easier time wise in the long run. And to add another wrench to the mix, he could already tell from the way that Dean behaved around Raziel that the archangel was someone else that he'd have to accept into the rest of his life. He couldn't tell what it was about Raziel that drew his brother in to him as he rather found the archangel a bit weird even for an angel, but he could definitely tell when Dean's protective instincts had kicked in and trying to get his brother to abandon someone when that had happened was simply impossible. He just couldn't figure out how or what had pinged Dean's protective instincts. This was an  _archangel_  after all, a fact which chilled Sam to some extent. That his brother was trying to take on something else which had hurt an angel, let alone one of the original seven archangels, was as terrifying as it was typical.  
  
The only source of consolation which Sam got from the tight bond between Dean and both Michael and Raphael was that it meant that his headstrong and sometimes idiotically stubborn and self-sacrificing brother had two more archangels watching over him when Dean went off and pulled one of his stunts. That thought, naturally, made him think of his brother's outright challenge to Lucifer and he shook his head. There were just some things about Dean which even Castiel couldn't change.  
  
It was at times like these where Sam couldn't help but wonder how it was that they were even related to each other.


	190. Chapter 189

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A revelation from Raziel provides Castiel with the perfect solution to an unresolved problem.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
"That will be five hundred American dollars," the man said and Castiel blinked in surprise.  
  
Dean had said that the blessed amulet might be expensive, but Castiel had no idea that it might be  _that_  expensive.  
  
"Something wrong, Brother?" Raziel inquired in Enochian.  
  
"Yes, I do not have sufficient funds with me for this purchase," Castiel replied in kind. "I shall have to go back to Dean in order to acquire more."  
  
"No, that's okay, I've got this," Raziel stated, pulling out a wallet and selecting a card from it to hand over to the contact that Bobby had found.  
  
Castiel frowned as the man processed the transaction. "You have money of your own?"  
  
"More than I could ever possibly spend," Raziel responded. "It's from all of the times that Father wanted me to integrate myself into human society. Since I don't need to eat and don't have most of the other expenses that humans do, it has built up in various banks over time. If Dean had not already possessed similar funds from the Vatican, I would have offered him mine. I shall never use even a fraction of it all."  
  
His brother's words made Castiel pensive and he nearly missed the merchant trying to hand him their purchase when the credit card transaction was done.  
  
"Thank you," Castiel said absently before stepping outside with his brother.  
  
"What's wrong, Castiel?" Raziel asked.  
  
"You said that you wouldn't use the money yourself?"  
  
"That's right. Why, do you need it?"  
  
"It would not be for me."  
  
"I don't mind, like I said, it's actually just sitting there in the banks, collecting interest. Not the safest prospect at the moment in these economic times."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
His brother laughed and Castiel knew that he was missing something, probably a human reference of some kind. "It's nothing. Who do you want to give the money to?"  
  
"My vessel's family," Castiel explained, feeling oddly defensive so he rushed on to explain. "They've been left in a worse financial situation due to me and I promised Jimmy that I'd look after them as best I could."  
  
"Whoa, calm down, little Brother, it's fine. I, more than anyone, understand the difficulties humans face and I think that it's noble of you to keep thinking of your vessel's family, not many of our brothers and sisters would."  
  
"More these days though."  
  
"That is true. So how did you want to do it? An inheritance from a distant relative?"  
  
"I don't understand, can't we just give them the money?"  
  
"No," Raziel smiled. "That would make the authorities suspicious and cause more problems for Jimmy's family than it would solve. But if we invent a reclusive relative living in another country, then it would be considered valid."  
  
"If that is what we must do, then I'm happy to go along with it. What do I need to do first?" Castiel asked.  
  
"Come, I'll show you."  
  


* * *

  
Raphael watched dispassionately as Sam Winchester threw up into one of the bushes lining the side of the path. He knew that he'd have to clear it up once the human was done in order to prevent any potential contamination of the timeline, but that was a choice that he'd made when deciding not to shield the human as much as he could have during their trip through time.  
  
"Oops," Raphael said, knowing that he had to give some explanation for why the trip here was so much worse than the one home would be. "It appears that I misjudged the shielding necessary to prevent an impact on your system."  
  
The human attempted to glare at him but the effect was totally ruined by the face that Sam had to turn back to vomit some more. Raphael smiled before turning to look around. As much fun as it was to toy with the one who had caused his bond brother so much pain, they did also have a job to do here. Though the Forbidden Blossom could be grown anywhere in the Hanging Gardens, it would be best if they put it somewhere slightly hidden to ensure that the plant wasn't noticed and pulled or its blossoms plucked before their return.  
  
"Misjudged, right," Sam muttered under his breath and Raphael wasn't sure if the human had meant for him to overhear it or not.  
  
"Yes," Raphael replied as innocently as he could. "If I simply shielded you as normal, I risked ruining the magical properties of the herbs."  
  
It wasn't true, but Winchester wouldn't know that so Raphael knew that he was safe. Besides, at worst Sam would complain to Dean and while his bond brother might pretend to be upset with him, he knew that Michael's vessel wouldn't really mean it. Dean might actually approve on some level even. And, if not, he doubted his bond brother would misunderstand the reason why he'd felt compelled to do it in the first place.  
  
By now, Sam Winchester had recovered from the upset to his system and was instead staring around in awe. The reaction confused Raphael for a moment before he remembered what Castiel had said about how humans of the present weren't even sure anymore if the Hanging Gardens had actually existed or whether they were nothing more than a myth. The ability of humanity to forget things like that was utterly incomprehensible to him even though he knew human memory to be fallible. Surely those who had seen the gardens had left behind documentation of its existence. How did those get lost?  
  
"Wow, this is... it's..." Sam began, trailing off in awe.  
  
"This way," Raphael stated simply, having found a spot that seemed suitable.  
  
Not checking to see if the human was following, Raphael set off for it, wishing once more that he could have brought either Dean or Kelly with him instead. Even his bond brother's cousin would have been preferable, but as Castiel had pointed out, Sam was the one most likely to get the pronunciation right the fastest. Plus, Raziel had also stated that humans tended to get desperate and made stupid decisions if they couldn't see the chance to gain forgiveness. His brother's explanation of why that was hadn't made much sense to him but he trusted that Raziel knew what he was talking about, especially since Castiel appeared to agree with their older brother.  
  
"Where are we going?" Sam asked, slightly out of breath as the boy caught up with him.  
  
"Somewhere more secluded, off the main path," Raphael replied curtly.  
  
"To keep them from seeing us?"  
  
"No, I have already hidden us from the view of any other humans. I cannot do the same with the plant though without compromising the properties of the maturing Forbidden Blossom."  
  
"So why can you hide us like that, but not the shielding?"  
  
"Degrees of interference and power."  
  
"Oh," Sam replied, not sounding entirely convinced even to Raphael's inexperienced ear.  
  
"It's like the difference between being able to bring you here but not being able to handle the herbs."  
  
Which was true, it just didn't mean that Raphael had to lower his shielding as much as he had done. Winchester's suspicions didn't bother him as he knew that the human was suspicious of him even when he hadn't done anything wrong, so he figured that he might as well do something to earn the suspicion rather than not. Raphael soon reached his chosen spot and was pleased to see that the miniature trees planted here had been spread far enough apart for them to be able to plant the seeds among them and still have the seedlings be hidden from sight, even from above as they were on the highest level of the gardens.  
  
"Prepare and consecrate the earth here," Raphael instructed as he pulled the vial filled with the seeds of the three fruits that he'd collected from the Garden of Eden and washed in the Water of Life out of his pocket.  
  
"And what are you going to do?" Sam demanded, eyes trained on the vial that he held.  
  
"Bless the seeds."  
  
"All of them?"  
  
"Yes, seeds from fruit borne in the Garden are quite infertile outside of Eden. Washing them in the Water of Life increases the odds of success, but most will still not germinate on Earth."  
  
That seemed to satisfy the human and Raphael turned his attention to blessing the seeds in his Father's name. His job was far shorter than that of Sam Winchester and he pondered Michael's observation of how this spell appeared to only be possible if angels and humans worked together. It made him wonder what his Father's plan was even as he marvelled at how suited it was to their situation despite having been dictated and written down so long ago. It was just one more piece in a massive jigsaw puzzle slowly coming together exactly according to plan.  
  
The only problem was that it wasn't the plan that their Father had originally told them about. Raphael wasn't sure what to think of that. It was a strange juxtaposition of proof both for and against his Father's omniscience. The fact that the scrolls had been there, protected by his bond brother's family for generations and were so perfectly suited for their purpose spoke to his Father's power and omniscience, and yet the fact that they needed it at all proved that his Father could be wrong as well as it meant that they stood a chance of averting the long predicted and ordained Apocalypse. The thought that this spell could be a hoax designed simply to get them to confront Lucifer and thereby hasten along the prophesized fight between Michael and Lucifer occurred to him, but he soon dismissed it. Not only would there still be far too many inconsistencies with the foreseen Apocalypse, but then Castiel would not have been brought back not once but twice for helping to prevent the Apocalypse in the first place.  
  
It was all just so frustrating and Raphael wished that his Father would just  _tell_  them what He wanted them to do. He would gladly obey and do it, whatever it was. All if this deciding for themselves was hard and filled with uncertainty. Michael's recent admission to him that his brother was starting to suspect that this might be precisely why their Father was doing it terrified him in a lot of ways. Neither of them had shared this thought with Dean yet, not quite sure how their new bond brother would react. He'd brought it up with Kelly, though, and her fearful reaction had made him sorry that he'd done so. All of the time that he'd spent with Castiel's bond mate had made him lose sight of the fact that most humans would consider any such actions on the part of his Father quite terrifying, even if they hadn't been fully sure that they believed just a short while ago. He would not be making that same mistake again as he had absolutely no desire to frighten Kelly.  
  
The swell of magic returned Raphael's attention to the task at hand and he had to admit that Sam Winchester was good with the necessary pronunciation. There was a lot of pride that went with the skill though and that he liked a whole lot less, not that he could speak about that particular sin all too much himself. Dean had pointed out, though, that those who were prone to a particular fault could often see it easily in others (something about pots and kettles and the color black that he hadn't quite gotten) so Raphael knew that he was right even if he wasn't particularly good at reading humans in other ways yet.  
  
Once the ground had been consecrated and the necessary herbs mixed into the loose topsoil, Raphael carefully planted the Forbidden Blossom seeds and said another quick prayer over them. Along with some water, that was all that they could do. Now it was up to Father whether one of the seeds actually took hold and germinated.  
  
"You don't talk much, do you?" Sam questioned.  
  
"No," Raphael replied, rising to his feet once more.  
  
Winchester sighed and did what Raphael was pretty sure Dean termed 'rolling his eyes' and he took that as a little victory.  
  
"We should return now," Raphael stated and was inordinately pleased with the sudden wariness in the human's eyes.  
  
Perhaps he'd be able to bring one of the others to collect the Blossoms. He was pretty sure that Kelly would appreciate seeing the Hanging Gardens.  
  


* * *

  
Although he didn't know the Novaks personally, Raziel found himself unable not to accompany his brother when Castiel went to see them. They had set all of the necessary information into place for the inheritance to pass smoothly from their fictional person to Amelia Novak. Since they'd only really needed to fool the authorities on this end, it had been very quick and easy to put all of the necessary information into place, which was a good thing as Raziel wasn't sure that his brother would have been able to wait much longer. It seemed that the fate of his vessel's family had been weighing heavily on Castiel's mind and now that his brother had found a way to alleviate what he saw as their suffering, that Castiel was simply unable to not put it all into place immediately.  
  
In any other brother or sister of his, Raziel would have found the behavior surprising and perplexing, but with this particular brother he could understand it. He knew from personal experience how much the fate of a bond mate could affect one and he shuddered at the thought of Jophiel having had to undergo what his vessel had experienced when he'd taken the man. He knew it wasn't quite the same, that Michael was able to sustain his host's soul, but he wasn't sure if that would have made things better or worse for Castiel the first time their brother had taken his true vessel, especially since they couldn't have known how well things would work out. So, yes, after having that experience, he could completely understand why Castiel was now feeling so concerned about the fate of his vessel's family.  
  
The thought of Jophiel, however briefly, sent a fresh flash of pain through Raziel and he closed his eyes at the agony that was even now still unbelievably powerful. The fingers of his hands curled into fists as he fought to deal with it. Although a part of him hoped that his feelings for Jophiel never faded, there was another part of him that longed for a release from the near constant pain. Guilt followed hard and fast on the heels of that thought and he hated himself a little for having even allowed it to surface, however briefly. He would give anything, literally  _anything_ , to have Jophiel back and he would never,  _ever_ , regret having bonded with her.  
  
"Raziel? Brother?" Castiel inquired, voice soft.  
  
The words drew Raziel back to the present and he opened his eyes to look at his brother. The gentle, knowing look in Castiel's eyes told him that his brother had realized where his thoughts had gone and he stepped closer when one of Castiel's wings reached out and brushed gently against his own.  
  
"It never gets any easier," Raziel admitted quietly, voicing that fact for the first time ever.  
  
"Does it..." Castiel began, clearly uncertain of his question. "Does it get easier to remember the good times?"  
  
Raziel paused at that, recalling the number of times that he'd thought of the things Jophiel had liked or moments that they'd shared. "A little, but most reminders make the anchor where the bond used to be all the more obvious."  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"I know and I thank you for it, Brother. I'm also extremely grateful to Death for ensuring that you didn't permanently lose your own bond mate."  
  
Castiel bowed his head and Raziel felt a little guilty for bringing it up, but his brother and Dean had said that they were willing to talk to him about it and for that he was thankful. Strangely, though it didn't lessen the sheer agony of what had happened any, it did help to know that there were others who understood his loss even if he desperately wished that neither Dean nor Castiel had never had to experience that. He was just able to relax in a way around them that he simply couldn't with anyone else. Even his new bond brother, whom he could already tell wasn't normally someone who was comfortable with emotional topics, was always willing to reach out and comfort him or just sit with him in companionable silence.  
  
"Now, come, or we'll miss the part you wanted to see," Raziel continued, indicating the house they stood outside of.  
  
Both of them had cloaked themselves to human sight earlier and so now they simply flew into the Novak home. They had debated about how best to inform Amelia of what they had done and, while it had taken a while, Raziel had finally convinced Castiel that it was best to allow the news to reach her through the usual channels. His brother had wanted to inform her himself, but he'd managed to get through to Castiel that human pride might get in the way of Amelia accepting the money then. It had been surprisingly difficult to get his brother to see that given that he was sure that Dean would not have been easily convinced to do the same, but he had managed it in the end. The compromise had been for them to be here when Amelia received word of it so that Castiel could still witness the delivery of the good news.  
  
Amelia was in the kitchen, humming softly to herself as she did the dishes. Raziel took a moment to study her and perhaps it was just because of where his own thoughts had been so recently, but he was sure that he could sense an air of grief about her. That made him angry. Angry that she had been forced to give up her husband for this Apocalypse, angry that James Novak had died and angry at his Father for arranging the use of vessels in the first place. The latter caught him off-guard but it was true nonetheless. None of this would have happened to the Novak family nor countless of other families both now and during the Rebellion if it wasn't for the fact that they required vessels in order to be able to interact with humans or to not cause them serious harm or even death by their mere, unvesseled, presence.  
  
The ringing of the phone made Raziel jump and his brother sent him a concerned look which he tried to shrug off.  
  
"Hello," Amelia said, answering the phone.  
  
"Mrs. Amelia Katelyn Novak?" a man's voice on the other end inquired.  
  
"Yes, speaking."  
  
"I'm Brian Anderson from Major and Lang, the American law firm handling the US end of the will from your late husband's recently deceased cousin."  
  
"Cousin?" Amelia questioned. "Jimmy didn't have a cousin."  
  
"I believe it was a somewhat distant relation," Brian replied. "A Castiel Novak?"  
  
"Castiel? Oh, Oh!"  
  
"Yes, he passed away earlier this week in Asia and has left a rather large sum of money to yourself and your daughter."  
  
The look of shock on Amelia's face made Raziel smile and he looked at his brother. Castiel's facial expression wasn't the most ecstatic that he'd ever seen, but his brother's wings portrayed the state of Castiel's emotions and he was even happier to have pleased a brother as well as having helped people who'd sacrificed for his family.  
  
"Thank you, Brother," Castiel said, turning to look at him.  
  
"It was my pleasure. We'll have to visit later to see how she's put the money to use."  
  
"Hopefully they will no longer be living here then."  
  



	191. Chapter 190

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwen and Bobby try to teach Dean how to achieve the necessary meditative state.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
"Haven't you ever meditated before?" Gwen questioned, incredulous.  
  
"Not helping," Dean retorted, opening one eye to glare at her.  
  
"It's really not that hard."  
  
Bobby snorted. "It is if you've got a perpetual inability to sit still."  
  
"Hey, I'm not  _that_  bad," Dean protested.  
  
"You're not far off either though."  
  
"From what I've seen, you'd probably be one of those kids diagnosed with ADHD these days," Gwen commented.  
  
"Kids are supposed to be hyper and active," Dean replied. "Nothing wrong with that. It's the doctors that have gone nuts."  
  
"You're not a kid anymore, despite your mental age," Bobby stated.  
  
"Hey, watch it, old man."  
  
Though the banter was lighthearted and would otherwise have amused him greatly, Dean just wasn't able to fully get into it today. Given that his last attempt to meditate hadn't gone particularly well (though it had ended spectacularly if he did say so himself), it had been decided to 'help' him with it this time. Not that he was having any more success with Gwen and Bobby around, rather the opposite in fact if truth be told.  
  
"Maybe I need to turn on some soothing music after all," Gwen said. "You know, to help you relax."  
  
"No," Dean responded firmly. "I've heard that crap you like to listen to and I'm telling you, you turn that on and I'm outta here."  
  
"Be serious, Dean."  
  
"Oh, trust me, I am."  
  
"Bobby."  
  
"I'm actually with Dean on this one, though not for his stated reasons," Bobby replied. "We can't have him reliant on any such things in order to be able to do this as he won't have them when he needs to do it for real."  
  
"Yeah, but we can wean him off of the music once he knows how to get into the necessary state."  
  
"Still in the room, guys," Dean scowled. "And I think this would work better if I was alone."  
  
"You've already tried that and it didn't work, remember?" Bobby pointed out.  
  
"It worked better than this."  
  
"Okay, let's try something different," Gwen suggested just as Dean heard the soft flutter of wings. "Think about the last time that you really had to concentrate hard on learning something new. And I mean really hard."  
  
Dean blanched at the first thing that immediately came to mind and therefore he missed the way that his cousin and friend jumped when his bond brother spoke, thereby alerting them to his presence.  
  
"That will not be conducive towards aiding Dean to achieve a meditative state," Michael declared.  
  
"You really need to take some lessons from Castiel on how to not startle humans into nearly having a heart attack!" Bobby growled, glaring at the first archangel.  
  
"Clearly," Michael replied coolly.  
  
It took Dean a moment to realize that his bond brother had done it on purpose in order to draw attention away from him. He was grateful for it but didn't really like the implication of how easily his friend had followed his train of thought to their natural conclusion. Had Michael been reliving some of his own worst memories? He really hoped not!  
  
"Why wouldn't it help Dean?" Gwen inquired.  
  
"That is not important, merely that it would not achieve the desired effect," Michael stated.  
  
"Yes, well we need to try something new as this isn't working."  
  
"That much is clear. Leave it to me."  
  
"Are you sure?" Bobby frowned.  
  
"Yes. Dean and I will need to achieve the proper state together, so it is best if we practice it together."  
  
"Alright, if you're sure."  
  
"Goodbye, Bobby, Gwen," Dean said pointedly, greatly relieved. "Thanks, Mike," he added as soon as they were alone together.  
  
"You're far too tense," Michael stated, running a hand over his shoulders.  
  
"Yeah, well, you try meditating with those two around."  
  
"And the memories of Hell."  
  
Dean looked up sharply at his bond brother and friend as Michael came to stand in front of him before the archangel lowered himself to the floor. "Have you seen any of that?"  
  
"Just some glimpses from time to time, but I am well aware of what happens down there and what Alastair would have done to you."  
  
The words made Dean flinch but he instantly relaxed when Michael's chocolate colored wings came up around him, cocooning them off from the rest of the world. It was amazing, really, just how quickly it calmed him but he realized that he really didn't have any bad memories associated with angel wings, just really  _really_  good ones. So of course he'd see them as a sign of protection and comfort. Well, no bad ones where he'd gotten hurt anyway, he amended, wincing as he recalled how multiple of both Castiel and Raphael's wings had been so severely injured.  
  
"Right, thanks," Dean replied, looking at the wings. "But Bobby's right, I can't really use something like that in order to get into a meditative state."  
  
"No, but you'll never learn how to do it at all if you don't relax first. Once you know what you need to achieve, then it'll be easier to get there without such guidance," Michael responded. "Now, close your eyes-"  
  
"- and take a deep breath?"  
  
"Dean."  
  
"Sorry."  
  
It never ceased to both amaze and amuse Dean how all of his archangels could pack so much meaning into the one syllable that was his name. It was almost miraculous really. And, yeah, he could admit that he was procrastinating now. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to clear his mind as most of the books that he'd read had said to do. There was a slight shift of wings and then he felt the reassuring weight of feathers against his back and shoulders. The rest of his tension just melted away and he huffed in feigned annoyance at how instantly and easily his body reacted.  
  
"Hush, Little One," Michael said, bemused. "Now, this isn't some ordinary meditative state that we're attempting to achieve here, this is something far deeper."  
  
"Great."  
  
A small feminine finger covered his lips and Dean was tempted to bite it but he stilled the impulse. There was a faint fluttering of something hysterical deep within him that he recognized from previous times where he'd been about to do something that he really feared on some level but he quashed it. He really wasn't quite sure  _why_  he was feeling it now of all times as this was not at all something dangerous or even something that he'd ever feared, just looked down on and sneered at. Well, unless it was the next step that he was dreading on some level already, because if this worked (and it really had to!) then he'd have to do it while with Michael so that they could de-nuke Lucifer and that, of course, risked them growing even closer than they already were. While the thought of becoming closer to Michael in and of itself didn't bother him too much, the thought of losing himself utterly terrified him. On some level it was like saying yes all over again, only without the reassurances and comforts that his friend had promised back then because this time even his bond brother didn't know what was going to happen.  
  
Well, Dean reasoned, it wasn't like it was the first time that he was going to risk himself. Besides, this time he had far more people working with him and, much as he still hated to admit it, people that he could trust far more than he ever could his brother.  
  
"Good, now I want you to concentrate on our bond," Michael instructed softly.  
  
"Our bond?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"I thought I was supposed to clear my mind?"  
  
"I am not entirely sure that is even possible for you."  
  
Dean scowled as he felt the amused ripple through their bond, but he secretly had to admit that his friend was probably right. "Okay, the bond."  
  
It was nearly shocking how easily that Dean could focus on the bond, blocking out almost everything else. Perhaps it was because the connection between them was almost alive in a way, constantly rippling and shifting, swelling and ebbing with the emotions that passed between them. It was seductive in a way, all of that power and emotion just right there, for him to touch and wrap himself in whenever he wanted to. It would be so easy to just lose himself in it all. Although not the same as his bond with Castiel, this bond was almost just as intense if not as all-encompassing. He had a brief thought for how amazing it was that Michael and Castiel had been able to accept each other's claims on him as they had because otherwise the disharmony from the two bonds would surely have been enough to drive him mad, but it was a fleeting thing, passing nearly as soon as it occurred to him.  
  
" _That's it, now open your hands,_ " Michael's true voice whispered directly into his mind an indeterminate amount of time later.  
  
Dean responded automatically, his hands having opened even before he'd really thought about it. Once that fact would have bothered him, but not anymore. Indeed, he wasn't even tempted to open his eyes and see what he'd been given when a cool weight was placed into his waiting palms. Any thought of figuring it out by touch was forestalled when Michael closed his hands over his own, clasping them around the object.  
  
For a few seconds they simply sat there like that, their very essences gliding along each other along the bond, before Dean could suddenly feel something from between his closed palms. At first he couldn't quite make out what it was, but then it resolved itself into heat. It wasn't anything too bad, just a pleasant warmth caressing the inside of his hands, dancing along his fingers, but he could somehow tell that it wasn't natural heat. It was magic of some kind or another. He wasn't entirely sure just how he knew that, but he did. The knowledge didn't alarm him though as he was attuned to his bond brother enough to know that there was nothing to either be afraid of or worry about. Instead the magic seemed to seep into him, relaxing his muscles and expanding his awareness of their bond and Michael's Grace. Acting solely on instinct, he gave himself over to it, hardly even aware of his own meat suit anymore.  
  
The fission of foreboding came out of nowhere and made Dean flinch, but lazily as he was so thoroughly relaxed.  
  
" _Mike?_ " Dean questioned, knowing it hadn't come from his friend but mystified as to where else it could have come from. " _What was that?_ "  
  
" _I don't know, Little One,_ " Michael admitted, a frown nearly tangible in his voice. " _But I have felt it before._ "  
  
" _At the Vatican._ "  
  
" _Yes._ "  
  
"Is everything okay?" Gwen demanded, rushing back into the room.  
  
"What the hell just happened?" Bobby demanded, swift on her heels.  
  
The unexpected interruption caught Dean completely off-guard, making him react automatically and so he had already turned his head and opened his eyes before he'd even really thought about it. For a moment all he saw were Michael's wings but then they shifted and he could see both Gwen and Bobby. The looks on their faces were one of disbelief and shock, both tinged with what he strongly suspected was awe. That confused him for a moment and so it took him a few seconds to realize that the quality of light in the room was different from what it had been before. He followed Gwen and Bobby's gazes back down to his hands which he could now see held the focusing crystal that they'd gotten from his extended family in England. Only now the crystal was ablaze with an inner light and he suddenly got what the big deal was about it being flawless as any flaws, no matter how small or slight, would be instantly visible just now.  
  
"Dean?" Gwen questioned, sounding worried.  
  
Dean blinked, turning his head back to look at her. It was as he was doing so that he realized how slowly that everything seemed to be moving. Or was it him that was moving slowly? Despite the surrealness of the experience and the sudden detachedness he could now feel from his surroundings and even his cousin and Bobby, he didn't panic as his bond brother was still perfectly calm.  
  
"What's wrong with him?" Bobby demanded, stepping forwards.  
  
"As you can see from the crystal, he's in a deep meditative state," Michael explained, not taking his eyes from him and their gazes locked when Dean looked back at his friend.  
  
"Already?" Gwen questioned in disbelief.  
  
"It turns out that Dean's a natural at it once he realizes how to do it."  
  
Bobby snorted. "Sam's not gonna let him live that one down anytime soon once he hears about this."  
  
"Forget Sam,  _I'm_  not gonna let him live this down!" Gwen stated. "Not after all of the crap that he's given me about my meditations and my candles."  
  
Dean rolled his eyes but he knew that he really had no defense against that particular accusation. The amusement he felt from his bond brother returned his attention to Michael and the moment that their eyes locked once more he felt another wave of foreboding. Then, before he could say anything, there was a  _flash_  of something else. He wasn't sure what it was but he just knew that it was important and he focused on it, letting everything else fall away. At first there was nothing but then something wavered before him like a flickering old film, between himself and his bond brother. It shimmered there for a few seconds before bursting into life; vivid, colorful and with complete surround sound.  
  
It was the kitchen at Lisa's and Dean felt his heart plummet as he instantly recognized it. Then it was racing in his chest at the sound of a scream that he would know anywhere.  
  
 _Ben_!  
  
Dean could then hear Lisa crying out for her son and then the scene shifted slightly, just enough so that he could actually see what was going on. He almost wished that it hadn't. There was blood sprayed across the far wall and Lisa's shirt was soaked with it as well. Beside her, clutching at his stomach was Milton. The guy's color didn't look great and he knew that if the man didn't get medical attention and soon that Milton would die. Instead of fussing over her boyfriend, though, or the demon that was crouched down over her and holding her down, Lisa's attention was focused elsewhere. He followed her line of sight to see a demon holding Ben up against the wall, the boy's legs kicking out frantically where they dangled uselessly, several feet above the floor.  
  
"Ben!" Dean called out desperately.  
  
He tried to rush forward to help, but Dean found that he couldn't. All that he could do was watch helplessly as the boy he'd gladly have called his own struggled to breathe around the hand at his throat. Despite his desperate situation, Ben was still fighting, trying frantically to claw at the demon and Dean felt a swell of pride but it was quickly swamped by the realization that it wasn't going to be enough. Ben simply wasn't strong enough or trained enough to be able to get out of the hold that the demon had over him.  
  
"Well, this is rather amateurish, not to mention suicidal."  
  
Even though Dean didn't get the chance to turn around and see the newcomer, he didn't have to in order to identify him. The voice alone was more than distinctive enough.  
  
Crowley.  
  
Just as suddenly as the vision had come, it was gone and Dean was left staring into Michael's shocked and horrified eyes.  
  
"Dean, Michael, what the hell just happened?" Bobby demanded.  
  
The horror and shock paralyzed Dean for a few precious moments but then, before he could react, Michael was already reaching out towards his forehead with two fingers and his hand went for the demon-killing knife that he'd shoved into his boot that morning, knowing his Desert Eagle would be useless in this particular case. Not that he wouldn't gladly pump any one of the demonic bastards full of lead if Michael managed to contain them for him.  
  
"Mich-" Gwen began.  
  
The world shifted around them as his bond brother took to flight and Dean could feel Michael's own determination even though he wasn't sure whether his friend even knew who Lisa and Ben were and what they meant to him. Although, actually, his archangel was probably aware of the latter if not the former, given how closely connected they'd been when the vision had sprung to life before their very eyes.  
  
Dean didn't have the first clue as to how the vision had come to them, but if it was true then he didn't care, he was just glad that it had. God, if anything were to happen to Ben because of the boy's connection with him... he would never forgive himself. Sure, he'd not been the one to first expose either Lisa or Ben to the supernatural, but demons were a long way from changelings and there was no doubt whatsoever in his mind as to exactly  _why_ they'd been targeted now and it was all his fault. He should never have simply assumed that they'd be safe after he'd lived with him, however briefly it had been.  
  
He'd brought this on them.  
  
The landing was rougher than normal, but Dean hardly noticed, his attention tracking straight to where he'd last seen Ben in the vision even as he heard Lisa scream in pain.


	192. Chapter 191

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Michael arrive at Lisa's house.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
Surprisingly, Dean didn't find Ben where he expected to find the boy and, for a blissful fraction of a second, he thought that maybe he'd been wrong. Maybe it  _hadn't_  actually been a vision, or maybe it was a vision of something that was yet to come. He hadn't really given it any thought at all, simply reacting as if there were no doubting the veracity of what he and Michael had seen. Perhaps that had been a mistake? It had just  _felt_  so real though.  
  
The next instant Dean's doubts were dispelled as Ben came crawling backwards into view, eyes wide and one hand at his very red throat. Following the boy's eyes, he felt his blood freeze in his veins as he caught sight of not one, but  _two_  hellhounds fighting. They were snarling and biting, scratching and just tearing into each other for all that they were worth. Just beyond that, he saw Crowley and he assumed that one of the two hellhounds belonged to the demon because, just like his pet, Crowley was locked in what definitely looked like deadly combat. The shock of seeing the normally sleek and hands off demon in the demonic version of hand to hand combat shocked him into place for a split second, but the moment that he recognized the demon that Crowley was fighting with as the one that had accosted Ben in the vision and tried to kill the boy, Dean sprang forwards.  
  
Maybe things weren't quite as they'd first appeared in the vision, but Dean didn't really care much beyond the fact that Ben had clearly been attacked and that demon who had done so needed to die.  
  
" _Dean?_ " Castiel demanded worriedly over their bond.  
  
Dean batted the inquiry aside, hating to do so, but knowing that he simply couldn't afford to be distracted now of all times, not with hellhounds present. Just fighting off the gut-wrenching instinctual terror that came with seeing them was already taking far too much effort and he knew that some of that had to be leaking out through the bond, not to mention the sheer panic that he'd felt earlier. So there was no doubt whatsoever in his mind that Castiel would come, he just couldn't focus on that right now even if it helped him ward off his terror. His bond mate would never let them have him again, nor would his bond brother for that matter.  
  
The one thing that the hellhounds were good for was noise as they were making a hell of a lot of it. It meant that Dean didn't need to worry about masking the sound of his approach or worry about the commotion caused by the fight behind him where he knew that Michael was dealing with the other demon who had been hurting Lisa. Luckily of the two demons that he was approaching, it was Crowley who noticed him first and the demon was quick to take advantage of his presence. Instead of continuing to fight as he had been, Crowley switched tactics, tripping up his opponent and sending him staggering backwards, straight towards him.  
  
Not about to let the opportunity slip, Dean lunged forwards with the knife and stabbed the demon in its right arm. The demon cried out, turning to look at him in shock and agony.  
  
"That's for daring to come here," Dean growled viciously before he pulled the knife free. "And this is for hurting Ben."  
  
With that, Dean stabbed the demon in the chest and watched with satisfaction as it died, hard.  
  
"You've got excellent timing there, cupcake," Crowley stated, clearly trying not to pant as he dusted himself off and straightened his suit.  
  
Dean's eyes flashed briefly towards Crowley but then he was already turning to bring his attention back to the hellhounds. There was a brief flutter of wings and then a strangled yelp that cut off abruptly as an angel sword stabbed straight through the head of one of the two hellhounds. Unsurprisingly the blade belonged to his husband who had a fierce and foreboding look on his face. For a brief second there was a flash of satisfaction, but then Castiel's attention shifted to the second hellhound and his angel pulled his sword free.  
  
"No!" Crowley cried out, stepping forward as he snapped his fingers. "Growley, heel!"  
  
Dean turned to look at Crowley with narrowed eyes before a weight collided unexpectedly with his side and he looked down to find Ben clutching at him with one hand while the other was still at the boy's throat. He held Ben's gaze for a moment before looking to the demon that he'd killed. If Crowley hadn't interfered when the demon had, then he might not have been in time to save Ben so, much as he hated to admit it, he owed Crowley.  
  
"Get him out here," Dean ordered, suppressing a shudder as he looked at the hellhound slinking around behind the demon.  
  
"Growley, go home," Crowley instructed, then looked back at him. "You could see him."  
  
It hadn't even occurred to Dean that he shouldn't have been able to see the two hellhounds as he never had been able to before, but he didn't let it bother him. After all of the other things that he could now suddenly do that he hadn't been able to do in the past and which no human should be able to do, this was just another small drop in the bucket. Albeit a very useful drop, but just a drop nonetheless.  
  
"Ben," Castiel said, approaching them. "I can heal you, but I'll need to touch your forehead in order to do so. Is that okay?"  
  
The words drew Dean's attention back to the boy and he found that Ben had retreated around him so as to be on the far side of his approaching bond mate.  
  
"It's okay, Ben, he won't hurt you," Dean assured, somewhat surprised by the behavior as Ben had seemed fine with his husband before.  
  
Ben hesitated for another moment before stepping out from behind him and moving towards Castiel. Knowing the boy was safe, Dean turned his attention to Michael and Lisa. As he'd known would be the case, the other demon had been neutralized and his friend was crouched before Lisa, already attempting to do the same that Castiel was with Ben.  
  
"Lisa," Dean said, drawing her attention. "It's okay, h- she's with me. She's an angel, like Cas."  
  
Crowley snorted. "Sure, an angel, and I'm just a crossroads demon. Aren't you forgetting a rather important qualifier there, cupcake? Like, oh, I don't know, perhaps the word arch?"  
  
"You really enjoy taking your life into your own hands, don't you?" Dean questioned.  
  
"Actually, I'm wondering what else you're keeping from me."  
  
"Pot," Dean began, pointing at the demon before doing the same to himself. "Kettle, black."  
  
Ben laughed and Dean looked at the boy who was looking at his husband in amazement. "That... it... it's all gone!"  
  
"Welcome to angel healing, mate," Crowley said dismissively. "I'd say you're lucky to know Deano here, but really you're not seeing as you'd never have been in this situation in the first place if it wasn't for knowing him."  
  
"What are you talking about?" Dean demanded harshly.  
  
"Exactly what I said, cupcake."  
  
"Ben!" Lisa cried out, scrambling to her feet as soon as she was fully healed and rushing for her son.  
  
"Thanks, guys," Dean said to both Michael and Castiel as he watched Ben submit to a frantic hug.  
  
Rather than replying, Michael simply reached out and brushed two fingers over Milton's forehead and the man's color improved. Instead of immediately waking up, though, the man remained unconscious and Dean frowned. The look of disapproval on his archangel's face told him all that he needed to know, though, and he rolled his eyes. Of course his bond brother had to take offence to the man who Lisa had replaced him with, never mind the fact that her kicking him out had led to his current relationship with Castiel. Angels, really.  
  
"What happened here?" Castiel asked, looking around at everyone.  
  
"They wanted to know where Dean was," Lisa replied, still clutching Ben to her but Dean could see the look of relief on her face when she caught sight of Milton's improved condition.  
  
"How did they get in?" Dean questioned. "I put Devil's traps under all of the mats at the doors and salt under all of the window sills. They should never have been able to get into the house." The way Lisa looked away made his heart sink. "Lisa, what did you do?"  
  
"She got rid of the mats," Ben replied instead when his mother didn't immediately respond. "She was afraid that Milton would see the sigils someday."  
  
"Lisa!"  
  
"How was I supposed to know? You said that demons weren't all that common."  
  
"In the past! I said that they used to be quite rare."  
  
"Yeah, so what are the odds of them randomly coming here? Forgive me for thinking that you'd have warned me if we'd become a target because of you!"  
  
The words were like a slap in the face and Dean took an instinctive step back, guilt rising sharp and swift within him. Then his bond mate was at his side, a hand at his lower back.  
  
"You of all people should know how even events of unlikely probability can happen to you," Castiel said, voice hard and unforgiving. "Changelings are quite rare and uncommon as well and yet you were the victim of one before."  
  
"Your knowledge of the supernatural should also have allowed you to discern that something was amiss lately with the rise in phenomena and events unexplainable without the supernatural," Michael added, rising to his feet and moving back to the demon that he'd felled earlier.  
  
"That happened after I got rid of the mats," Lisa stated.  
  
"So why didn't you call me?" Dean demanded. "You know I would have gladly come back and redrawn the sigils."  
  
"Because Milton's only just gotten over the last time he met you," Ben responded with a smirk.  
  
"No thanks to you," Lisa frowned.  
  
Ben shrugged. "Not my fault he's insecure."  
  
"What did you do, Ben?" Dean asked, curious despite himself.  
  
"I might have pointed out certain desirable qualities which you have that he doesn't."  
  
"Like everything?" Castiel inquired.  
  
"You know, for once I need to agree with you, twinkle toes," Crowley said, looking at Milton for a moment with distaste before turning to Lisa. "What were you thinking?"  
  
"Hey!" Dean protested, stepping between the demon and his former girlfriend. "You leave her alone, Crowley."  
  
"Not the best move, being protective of an ex before your current flame, cupcake."  
  
The strangled sound that Ben made told Dean that the boy was aware of all of the innuendo as well as all of the layers of meaning in the words themselves and he closed his eyes for a moment as he took a deep breath. When he opened them once more he glared darkly at Crowley.  
  
"Cas has absolutely nothing to be afraid of and he damn well knows it!" Dean retorted, though he could tell from the tendril of emotion that leaked from his tightly shielded bond mate that he was in for a round of possessive sex at some later point.  
  
The thought was more distracting for the arousal it ignited deep within him than anything else.  
  
A groan from behind him drew Dean's attention back toward Michael in surprise as he hadn't expected the archangel to allow Milton to wake up anytime soon. The groaning, however, was not coming from the douche, but rather the second demon and he glanced at his friend in shock.  
  
"It seemed prudent to keep at least one of them alive in order to learn what they hoped to achieve here," Michael explained.  
  
Oh, that made a lot of sense, though Dean could admit that might be precisely why it hadn't occurred to him before now. He hadn't really been thinking, but rather reacting to a threat against someone he cared deeply for. Even though he knew that Ben wasn't his son, they'd definitely bonded (at least in the human sense of the word) in a way that he'd never done with anyone else but Bobby who wasn't family.  
  
"I can tell you what they wanted," Crowley stated. "Deano here. See, Malachi over here was one of the demons who got out of Hell when Lucifer briefly opened the portal on Devil's Island."  
  
"So he told Lucifer about Lisa and Ben?" Dean demanded fearfully.  
  
"Unlikely. Malachi fell from favor some centuries ago and never quite managed to regain his original position."  
  
"You believe that he was hoping to do so by capturing Dean or alerting Lucifer to his location?" Castiel postulated.  
  
"You got it in one, twinkle toes."  
  
"Wait,  _Lucifer_ , Lucifer?" Lisa demanded, voice high with panic and disbelief. "As in the devil? I thought you said that he was caged?"  
  
"It's a long story," Dean replied, feeling a headache building behind his eyes.  
  
"So why don't you start with how in God's name they knew about us?"  
  
"That is a very good question," Michael stated, pulling his demon captive to its feet. "Well?"  
  
"I won't tell you anything," the demon spat though Dean could already see the terror in its eyes as it took in all of the power rolling off of Michael in waves and realized just what it was dealing with here.  
  
"I will let you know what I find," Michael told them before he flew off with the demon.  
  
"Who was that?" Crowley demanded.  
  
"My older brother," Castiel deadpanned and Dean had to bite back a laugh at just how dry his husband was able to make his voice.  
  
He'd been such an awesome influence on his angel.  
  
"Is this really how we're going to play this, cupcake?"  
  
"Yep."  
  
"I just saved them for you," Crowley growled, gesturing at Lisa and Ben.  
  
"And believe me, I'm grateful for that, but don't pretend that you did it for anything other than the fact that you knew if I'd ever learned that you could have prevented an attack on them and hadn't, that I'd have either dismembered you myself or thrown you to Lucifer and let him do it for me."  
  
They glared at each other for a few moments and Dean refused to be the first to look down.  
  
"I won't forget this, Winchester."  
  
"Oh, please, Crowley, you know that I'll remember what you did here in the future.  _I'm_  not the one who double-crosses his allies and stabs them in the back as soon as it's convenient to do so."  
  
A half smile crossed the demon's face before Crowley tipped his head forwards briefly. "Touché, cupcake. I'll be seeing you then."  
  
And with that, the demon vanished, leaving just Dean and Castiel with Ben, Lisa and the still slumbering Milton. Before he could ask, his husband had already cleaned up all of the blood and bodies, leaving just minor signs of a struggle. He couldn't help but wonder just what Lisa was going to tell Milton in order to explain all of this. Somehow he didn't think that the man could handle knowing the whole truth.  
  
"Thanks, Cas," Dean said.  
  
Instead of replying verbally, his bond mate came to stand back next to him and brushed his arm with his wings.  
  
"Dean, what the hell is going on?" Lisa demanded, finally relaxing her harsh grip on her son. "And don't give me the 'it's a long story' excuse either. They came into my house and attacked my family, I think I have a right to know!"  
  
"Okay, long story short, the Apocalypse is back on and Lucifer's out of his cage and trying to take over. We're trying to stop him and those working for him, which has made us his targets."  
  
"And through you, us."  
  
"Yes, so it would seem, unfortunately. Look, Lisa, I promise you that if I'd had any idea that this could happen, that I'd have done all that I could in order to prevent it."  
  
"So now what?"  
  
"Now we wait for Michael to figure out how they learned about you in the first place and whether they told anyone else."  
  
"Which there is a good chance that they didn't do," Castiel added. "If Crowley is right and Malachi orchestrated this attack in order to regain Lucifer's favor, then he would not have informed anyone else of his intentions for fear of them trying to usurp his idea and using it to further their own position."  
  
"And that's supposed to be comforting?" Lisa demanded.  
  
"Mom-" Ben tried to interrupt.  
  
"- How do we know that some other demon won't just come up with the same idea on his own?"  
  
Dean had no response for that and he looked at his angel. "Cas, you can hide them from demons, right?"  
  
"To a certain extent, yes, but that might just have the opposite effect of making them even more of a target of interest should anyone realize that we went to so much effort to hide them."  
  
"Lucifer and Simiel might be looking for exactly that kind of move on our part," Dean realized, closing his eyes.  
  
"So, what, we do nothing?" Lisa shrieked.  
  
"Mom!" Ben exclaimed. "Let Dean think."  
  
"Let him think? They nearly killed you, Ben! Do you know what that demon nearly did, Dean? Ben was almost strangled!"  
  
"I know, I saw," Dean replied softly.  
  
"What do you mean, you saw? You weren't even here yet!"  
  
"Dean?" Castiel inquired.  
  
"It was a vision, okay. Mike and I were meditating with the crystal and... I don't know, it just came out of nowhere."  
  
The news disturbed his bond mate, but Dean couldn't worry about that just now. No, he had to find a way to ensure that the both of them, but most especially Ben, were safe. He wasn't sure what he'd do if they were attacked again or died because of him. They didn't deserve this just for having known him and letting him into their lives and home for a few weeks.  
  
"How about the Vatican?" Castiel suddenly suggested. "You've said that they have great power within your society, so perhaps they could arrange for Lisa and Ben to be housed somewhere safe and protected without drawing any undue attention to them."  
  
That... that was actually a brilliant plan, Dean realized with rising excitement. Neither Lucifer nor Simiel would ever consider the Roman Catholic Church a real threat, their arrogance and pride simply wouldn't allow it, so neither of them would be paying any attention to the Vatican's actions. If he and his bond brothers kept out of all of the arrangements, then the Vatican should be able to make Lisa, Ben and Milton vanish without a trace. Plus, given that the Roman Catholic Church were well aware of what was out there, he knew that whatever safe house Colonel Anrig chose would be not only fully demon-proof, but protected against all other forms of supernatural creatures as well.  
  
"The Vatican?" Ben asked, incredulous.


	193. Chapter 192

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Castiel take Lisa and Ben to the Vatican where Colonel Anrig makes a shocking observation.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
A quick call to the Vatican had been all that it had taken to start putting Castiel's plan into motion and within two hours, Dean had already gotten a return call telling him that they were ready for Lisa, Ben and Milton to be brought to them. Colonel Anrig had been at the location himself and the guy's professionalism had really shown through when clown guy had hardly even raised an eyebrow upon seeing Milton's still unconscious body. Call him cowardly, but he'd been really glad when Lisa had decided that perhaps it would be best for everyone involved if Milton wasn't revived until they were at the safe house. Boy was he glad to not have to be present for  _that_ particular conversation.  
  
The leftover adrenaline from the fight had combined with the guilt that Dean felt over having exposed (however inadvertently) Lisa and Ben to this kind of danger, leaving him uncharacteristically shaken. It, therefore, took him far longer than normal to notice the change that had come over Colonel Anrig during their interactions. Clown guy had been splitting his attention between him and the Vatican's new charges while Dean had been biting his tongue not to ask where it was that they planned on hiding them. Though a part of him really wanted to know where Ben would be, he knew that it was best if he didn't. You could never be too careful when dealing with angels and Lucifer of all people wouldn't hesitate to use each and every last dirty trick in the book if the archangel could. So, yeah, he absolutely refused to allow himself to be used to further endanger anyone that he cared about.  
  
Those thoughts had occupied so much of Dean's attention that at first he'd completely failed to notice the shift in Anrig's behavior. It wasn't massively obvious, but it still said a lot for his state of mind that he'd not spotted it immediately, especially since it seemed to directly pertain to him.  
  
"What?" Dean asked the colonel bluntly, not feeling at all up to beating around the bush just now.  
  
Anrig hesitated, glancing back at the others. "Your..."  
  
"My what?"  
  
"Your, uh, wedding ring."  
  
Still confused for a moment, Dean glanced at his ring before his eyes snapped up to his husband. Ah, of course, clown guy would have spotted a little detail like that, it came with the job just like it did for him. Only he'd learned to stop commenting on most of what he noticed long ago as most people tended to think that it was 'sweet' or 'charming' that he had such an eye for detail and noticed what most guys missed or some such crap like that. He'd bet that if those other guys' lives depended on spotting the little things before they killed them that they'd be good at seeing them too.  
  
"Yes?" Dean replied smoothly, not planning on giving clown guy an inch until the man verbally confirmed his suspicions.  
  
He couldn't quite tell just yet how Colonel Anrig was taking all of this and Dean had no desire to hasten along a scene if that was what this would descend into. Besides, he could tell that he himself wasn't at his best just now and the last thing he wanted to do was bring up his bonding if that wasn't actually what clown guy was talking about at all here.  
  
"It looks very similar to the ring that Castiel now suddenly wears."  
  
How diplomatically put, Dean had to admire that. "That's because they're a matched set."  
  
Dean almost didn't want to see how the colonel would react to the news as the last thing he wanted was to witness any kind of adverse reaction to the best thing that had ever happened to him. Given that Anrig was going to be directly responsible for Lisa and Ben's safety, though, he couldn't do anything else. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed the way that Castiel's head snapped around to look at him as his worry spiked.  
  
" _He's noticed our rings,_ " Dean explained.  
  
There was no verbal reply, but Dean could sense the sudden tension and disapproval that his husband felt and it reminded him of just how strongly Castiel felt about this particular aspect of Christianity as practiced on Earth.  
  
"A matched set," Colonel Anrig repeated slowly, as if to be sure that he'd gotten it right. "But they are marriage rin- Ah, some States allow it now."  
  
A muscle in Dean's jaw tightened. "Yeah, some States do. Not that it matters as there is no official marriage license registered anywhere."  _That_  made clown guy react more visibly than what had come before, confusion and surprise blossoming across his face. "What Cas and I have goes so far beyond mere human marriage that it's not even funny. We've bonded, Colonel, as is the tradition among angels, his Grace to my soul, in a connection that nullifies the whole till death do us part thing as death has no effect whatsoever on the bond. We have the rings because Castiel knew what they meant to me and to signify our relationship to other humans. Angels have no equivalent as none can fail to see our bond."  
  
It was a far longer speech than Dean had intended to give on the matter, but once he'd got going, he hadn't been able to stop. Perhaps it had been a reaction to how he knew most Vatican officials would take the news of his and Castiel's relationship, or perhaps it was because he was afraid that if he didn't get it all out now that he wouldn't have the chance to do so later. Either way it didn't really matter as he'd said it all now and he jutted his chin out and dared clown guy to say anything contrary to his face.  
  
"Grace to soul?" Colonel Anrig finally managed to get out, shock and disbelief clearly evident.  
  
"It's the angel way," Dean replied.  
  
"But you're... he's..."  
  
"Apparently God doesn't care about that. Oh and a piece of advice?  _Nothing_  sets off Castiel faster than any hint of his Father hating anything or anyone. So don't, just don't."  
  
"The Bible?"  
  
It wasn't even a full sentence but then Dean didn't need it to be either. "Human interpretation of God's Will and Word. A not altogether very accurate one either from what Castiel and Michael have said."  
  
This was all starting to be far too much for clown guy and Dean was more than happy to drop the subject temporarily, even if he wished that it could be permanently. The only thing was, he  _had_  to know how this would affect the Vatican's promised protection of Lisa and Ben.  
  
"Are Cas and I going to have to take the Braedens somewhere else?" Dean asked.  
  
"What?" Colonel Anrig questioned, shaking his head a little as if to clear it before an indignant expression crossed his face. "No!"  
  
Dean immediately relaxed, easily able to recognize affronted pride when he saw it. Whatever else clown guy might think about what he'd just revealed to the man, Anrig took far too much pride in his work to do anything to jeopardize either it or his reputation when it came to being able to carry out his duties. Between that and the fact that he seriously doubted that even the pope would do anything rash considering that he had the angels at his back, he knew that leaving Lisa and Ben here with the Vatican's people was still the best thing to do.  
  


* * *

  
That something had been bothering his hunter, Castiel had known for a few hours. Both the pensive expression on Dean's face and the churning emotions that he'd felt via their bond had been enough to alert him to that. What he hadn't quite been sure of was whether this was something fleeting or something more serious but he hadn't wished to pry with all of the others around, first at the Vatican and then downstairs as the day's events were explained to his bond mate's family who'd been concerned with Michael and Dean's rather abrupt disappearance this morning.  
  
Now, however, they were alone and the fact that his bond mate had groomed the same section of his smallest left wing several times told Castiel that whatever was wrong, it wouldn't just go away on its own.  
  
"Something is troubling you," Castiel stated, figuring that might be the best way to start and hoping that his beloved would feel comfortable enough in their bed to finally open up about what was bothering him.  
  
"Hm?" Dean inquired abstractly before looking at him.  
  
"You've been quiet and pensive all afternoon and evening."  
  
Dean pulled a face but didn't deny it, which Castiel chose to take as a good sign. Besides, when it came to patience, he knew that he would always win. It was not a virtue that his bond mate possessed in any form of excess, though he had seen his human wait silently for hours when on a hunt.  
  
"The first time that I met Ben, I thought he was mine," Dean said softly five or ten minutes later, finally stopping his repetitive grooming.  
  
Although intrigued, part of Castiel wanted to tell his bond mate that he didn't need to talk about it as he could sense the turmoil that Dean now felt. At the same time, however, he knew that it was ultimately best for his hunter to discuss it. Besides, the fact that his bond mate was willing to do so with as little prompting as this was a massive improvement and he didn't want to do anything to impede that. Which was why he ruthlessly suppressed the flare of jealousy that he felt at the thought of  _why_  Dean might have thought that Ben was his. It was from a time before they had met and he really didn't begrudge his human his past relationships, such as they were. There was just something about Lisa that always managed to set him on edge. Since he hadn't wished to burden his bond mate with these emotions, he hadn't been able to untangle their meaning fully, but he strongly suspected that it was because of the way in which Lisa had hurt Dean.  
  
"It was about eight years after the first time I'd met Lisa and Sam and I were in the area again," Dean continued. "This was also shortly after I'd made my deal."  
  
The reference to that hated event caused a rush of emotions to flash through Castiel but he tried to suppress them, not wishing to disrupt Dean's story. The way his bond mate's eyes flashed up to meet his, though, told him that he'd not been fast enough. Instead of using the potential excuse to shift the topic to something perhaps less 'chick flicky,' it merely made his hunter shift carefully, so he lowered his wings through the mattress so Dean could move to lie on his side beside him, before he brought them up once more.  
  
"I..." Dean began, bringing a hand up to rest on Castiel's chest. "I was still mostly in my denial phase at that point and was instead using the deal as an excuse to go wild and do whatever I wanted."  
  
"So you decided to look her up," Castiel summarized when his bond mate hesitated.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"And met Ben."  
  
Dean laughed. "Imagine my surprise. Instead of finding Lisa as I remembered her, she was the mother of a kid about old enough to be mine and acting much as I did back then."  
  
"So you thought he was yours."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"He is not."  
  
"I know. Lisa told me she'd had a type back then, so Ben's similarities to me were because she'd been drawn to me and Ben's father for the same reasons."  
  
"Milton does not fit this... type."  
  
"No kidding," Dean laughed. "He's practically the polar opposite of it."  
  
It heartened Castiel how easily his bond mate was able to discuss Lisa's new boyfriend now. It proved that the pain of her actions had faded sufficiently to not bother his hunter too much. He flattered himself that he was the reason for that easy acceptance. The lack of hurt also allowed him to voice a question that had long been bothering him.  
  
"I don't understand how she can be happy with him."  
  
"People's choices and preferences change," Dean said, a smile curling his lips upwards as something sparked in his hunter's eyes. "You weren't exactly my normal type either, Cas."  
  
"No, but you found someone better, she did not."  
  
"Cas! Arrogant much?"  
  
"Only if I were making that statement based on a view of myself compared to them, which I'm not. If you can give me the name of someone who's treated you right, as you deserved to be treated, I will retract my assertion," Castiel countered before he frowned. "But only the first part of it."  
  
Dean's smile was gone now, Castiel saw, but he could tell from his bond mate's emotions that he hadn't said the wrong thing. Instead his hunter seemed to be thoughtful, back to the contemplative mood that Dean had been in earlier. It frustrated him a little as he still didn't think that he'd gotten to the real heart of his bond mate's thoughts and, correspondingly, he didn't know how to help his human. Failing that, he really did want to be able to understand it so he knew how best to support him. The problem was that Dean still didn't consider searching that out automatically for all issues yet.  
  
"I'd say that I don't deserve you if I didn't know you'd take offense to that," Dean finally said. "Just, thanks, Cas. As for Lisa, everyone needs something different and maybe she just didn't realize what she needed until Milton came along. I definitely didn't until well after I met you."  
  
"I still don't understand."  
  
"I'm sure Sam's said the same thing about us on more than one occasion and I wouldn't be surprised if Bobby's not wondered as well. That's not what's important, the fact that it works is."  
  
The inability to understand annoyed Castiel a little but it wasn't the first time that he had to simply accept that he wouldn't comprehend certain aspects of humanity. It bothered him more than usual, though, as normally it wasn't a facet of humanity or human behavior that was upsetting his bond mate and so was preventing him from fully understanding what was wrong or how he could help Dean.  
  
"If that is not what is bothering you, then what is?" Castiel inquired.  
  
Dean frowned at him. "What do you mean?"  
  
"You're being extremely contemplative, it's not normal."  
  
Instead of responding verbally, his bond mate made an affirmative noise in the back of his throat. Castiel frowned as his hunter's eyes went unfocused as Dean's thoughts deepened. Not wanting to startle his bond mate but still wanting to refocus Dean's attention on him, he brought his hand up and flattened it over his hunter's hand where Dean had absently been tracing random patterns on his chest. The tactic worked and his hunter's eyes refocused glancing at his hand before Dean looked back up at his eyes.  
  
Castiel was doing his best to not start panicking as his bond mate clearly wasn't alarmed or even that worried, but it was difficult nonetheless as Dean's behavior was so peculiar. He was starting to understand what humans meant when they said that they could see someone's mind racing as it was clear that his bond mate was thinking carefully about something. Dean's nose twitched in a way that he found adorable and had noticed his bond mate doing before when concentrating deeply on something.  
  
Then, just when Castiel thought that he couldn't simply wait patiently any longer, Dean seemed to come to a decision or conclusion. His bond mate relaxed, lowering himself to the mattress beside Castiel and snuggling up against him. He shifted his arm to allow his hunter to get comfortable and then wrapped his wings around Dean to keep him warm as the night cooled around them.  
  
"What do you think of adoption, Cas?" Dean finally asked.  
  
"Adoption?" Castiel repeated with a frown, not entirely sure what was meant with the word.  
  
"Mm, it's when people, generally a couple, take in a child who either has no parents or whose parents didn't want them or were deemed unfit to take care of them."  
  
"Why would a parent not want their child?"  
  
"Beats me, but it happens."  
  
"So this adoption is to make sure they have people who want them?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Then it sounds like a good thing."  
  
Castiel wished that he could see his bond mate's face as he felt that he was missing something. Why had Dean asked him about adoption? Why had his hunter been thinking of it? Was it because of what had happened to Lisa and Ben? Had his hunter been thinking of where Ben might have gone if Lisa had died? Surely Dean would have wanted to keep the boy safe himself?  
  
Oh. Castiel suddenly thought that he might know why his bond mate was thinking of this now. It was a strange idea because, as an angel, he's never considered the notion of having children or of raising them. He wasn't sure what to make of it now, but one thing he did know was exactly how important family was to his bond mate and for humans the idea of family was almost inexorably linked with having children.  
  
"How does the process work?" Castiel inquired, putting aside his own feelings to think about when his hunter had fallen asleep.  
  
"I don't know exactly, but there's some kind of vetting process to check that the people would be good parents and can actually afford to raise a child."  
  
The latter confused Castiel at first but then he thought about the food and clothing the child would need. Then there was also the fact that he had always observed that parents of very young children almost always had a lot of items with them or the unusual contraptions in which the little ones sat or slept.  
  
Dean laughed bitterly. "As you can imagine, a hunter would probably be their worst nightmare. No steady job or income, not to mention the problems they'd have with the constant moving about and the danger."  
  
"You were raised like this and became a good and righteous man."  
  
"It's no way to raise a kid though. It was Mom's worst nightmare for Sam and me. Besides, we were constantly dodging CPS, uh, child protective services. Teachers or neighbors saw the bruises from the training or hunts and they thought the worst, calling CPS or the cops."  
  
The emotions were flooding hard and fast over the bond now and Castiel could hardly keep up with identifying them, much less understanding why it was that his bond mate felt them. There were thoughts and emotions in there for John Winchester; love, anger, devotion, loss and a hint of recrimination. There were also lingering remnants of what his bond mate had felt earlier in the day; the panic and terror, the relief and guilt. Then on top of that were the emotions produced by their current topic of conversation itself, and those were far too tangled for him to fully unravel, but he could tell that there were both positive and negative emotions wound into the nexus along with an intense feeling of longing or desire. For what precisely he couldn't fully make out, not with what Dean had said earlier, about how a hunter's lifestyle was no way to raise a child. He was well aware that for his bond mate hunting was almost literally in his blood and, aside from the Apocalypse, was something that Dean actually quite enjoyed.  
  
What Castiel couldn't fully understand was why this was all coming out now. Yes, he knew that seeing Ben once more might have triggered some underlying desire, but...  
  
Realization came suddenly and it stunned Castiel momentarily. It explained everything, though. He simply hadn't recognized it for what it was as he hadn't been aware that Dean had reached that point yet. One of the things which he'd always hoped to help his bond mate become better at was thinking of what Dean wanted, both for himself and of his life. This was the first truly independent sign that he'd succeeded on some level. He only wished that it was with something that he could actually have granted his beloved.  
  
Still, despite that Castiel was not going to let this opportunity slip by. The last thing that he wanted was for Dean shove his own desires aside again, just assuming that they weren't possible.  
  
"Unless it's a child who's already aware of what's out there," Castiel said softly.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You said that it's no way to raise a kid, but if it's a child that has already been unfortunate enough to have firsthand experience with the evil that exists, then they may feel more comfortable with someone who knows enough to protect them, instead of dismissing their fears out of hand."  
  
"I- I hadn't thought of that," Dean admitted. "Won't help a hunter pass the vetting process though."  
  
To that, Castiel had no reply, but he hoped that the point that he had raised might make his bond mate seriously consider how he could have other things that Dean wanted but didn't necessarily  _need_.  
  



	194. Chapter 193

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raphael learns new things about his bond brother that he loves and can't resist teasing Dean about.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
The entry of a demon into any part of Heaven was always felt by all angels, so Raphael had known it the moment that Michael had brought the demon to one of the old correctional facilities. They'd been abandoned after Castiel's reorganization of Heaven and therefore Michael had taken to using them for holding the demons that his brother worked on. He'd flown right over after finishing the inspection he'd been performing, thinking that Michael might be attempting to purify another demon.  
  
What Raphael had learned upon arrival, however, had infuriated him and he'd gladly helped his brother break down all of the demon's resistance so that they could know exactly what it knew about the extent of the information leak regarding Dean. Thankfully it turned out that no one had informed Lucifer of what they were doing and Malachi had learned of the existence of the Braedens via a little-known contact that was less inclined to deal with demons but had owed Malachi a favor from the last time the demon had been on Earth. Regardless of the likelihood of a repeat offence, he'd tracked the contact down and taken delight in smiting it. The fact that it had been preying on human children had merely heightened his satisfaction at carrying out his duty to his bond brother.  
  
Whether Dean would have approved of all of the methods that he and Michael had used to ensure that they had everything that the demon knew, Raphael wasn't entirely sure, but he doubted that his bond brother could argue with the results. He knew well how fiercely Dean cared for and protected his family or those he considered as such and Michael had said that their bond brother's affection for the boy that had been threatened ran deep.  
  
Both the demon and its source taken care of, Michael and Raphael few to the Campbell compound to inform their bond brother of what they'd learned and done. It wasn't until they arrived, however, that Raphael realized that they'd failed to take into account what time it was as Dean was still in bed with Castiel, fast asleep while their brother communicated with Heaven. The sight startled him for a moment as he wasn't used to seeing his bond brother so still and at first glance it was also eerily reminiscent of the countless dead humans that he'd seen since his creation. A second glance, however, quickly dispelled that disturbing notion.  
  
Unlike most of the bodies that Raphael had seen, his bond brother was completely relaxed right now and it fascinated him how different that made Dean look. His grasp on human age was still somewhat shaky at best, but it seemed to him like his brother's bond mate looked younger now. Did that happen with all humans when they were asleep? He'd have to check with Kelly at some point.  
  
From Dean's face, Raphael's eyes were drawn right to the mark on his bond brother's shoulder. To Castiel's mark. Although he'd always known that it was there, this was the first time that he could see it so clearly because not only was Dean not moving, but with the way his bond brother had his arm slung over Castiel's waist meant that it was angled just right for him to see it perfectly. He couldn't help but smirk at how clearly it marked the hunter for all of those who couldn't see the bond. He felt a swell of pride for his little brother's work.  
  
Unable to resist, Raphael reached out to touch the mark, not letting Castiel's sigh deter him as his brother's attention returned to the room.  
  
"G' 'way," Dean mumbled unexpectedly and mostly incoherently.  
  
A quick glance up showed Raphael that his bond brother still had his eyes closed and had actually shifted to bury his face against Castiel's neck. He ignored the command and did as he'd intended, touching the raised skin of the claim. Dean made a sound that was half growl and half annoyance and he laughed.  
  
"Raphael," Castiel admonished but Raphael could sense that his brother was amused despite himself, though he had no doubt whatsoever whose side Castiel would chose should Dean plead for his assistance.  
  
"He is ticklish," Michael informed him conspiringly, also clearly amused.  
  
"Ticklish?" Raphael questioned before he remembered what that meant.  
  
By that time it was too late, though, as his bond brother had already pulled his feet up tight to his body and Raphael pouted, put out, knowing that he couldn't get at any of the target spots for tickling without causing harm as he knew that his bond brother would resist him.  
  
"Cas!" Dean complained.  
  
As expected, Castiel brought up a wing and Raphael allowed himself to be pushed back, away from his bond brother.  
  
"I have removed the tickling threat, but I don't think that they'll leave, Beloved," Castiel stated.  
  
Dean groaned and there was a pause before his bond brother caved, pushing himself into an upright seated position. "Okay, I'm up, I'm up. What is it?"  
  
"I love your hair, Little One," Michael laughed.  
  
Dean shot Michael a dark look but its potency was greatly reduced due to his bond brother's bleary eyes and Raphael saw that full comprehension of Michael's comment didn't penetrate until Castiel reached up to flatten his bond mate's hair that was spiked up in complete disarray. Dean pulled a face and reached up to help but Raphael smiled when he noticed some of it simply refused to be tamed.  
  
"Bite me," Dean snarked when his bond brother finally seemed to notice his and Michael's amusement. "No one looks good in the middle of the night."  
  
"Is he always this... slow when woken?" Raphael asked his brother, intrigued.  
  
"Only when he feels safe," Castiel replied, pointedly.  
  
Oh, Raphael supposed that made sense given what both Castiel and Michael had told him before and what he knew about his bond brother. When he glanced back at Dean, the human was blinking his eyes as if unable to keep them open and was also scratching his chest, drawing attention to the ink that had been injected into the skin there.  
  
"You no longer need the protection tattoo," Raphael stated, gesturing at it.  
  
"Huh?" Dean questioned.  
  
"The protection is unnecessary now that you are an initiated vessel. No demon can claim you now that Michael has."  
  
"What? Seriously? That's awesome! Is this true for everyone who's been a vessel?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"No," Castiel countered. "Not if they've taken steps to revoke their consent like Sam has. Then that immunity is destroyed as part of the cleansing ritual to remove all angelic influence from the vessel in question."  
  
"Oh, still, it's great news for me."  
  
"Would you like me to get rid of the tattoo?" Raphael asked. "It would only take a moment."  
  
Dean blinked, considering before his bond brother shook his head. "Nah, I'm used to it now and would probably panic every time I caught sight of myself in a mirror. At least for a few seconds."  
  
"Very well, but let me know if you change your mind."  
  
"I will."  
  
"What was it that you came here for?" Castiel inquired.  
  
"Raphael and I were able to extract all of the information from the demon as to how Malachi was able to learn about Lisa and Ben," Michael explained.  
  
 _That_  seemed to catch Dean's drifting attention. "What? How?"  
  
"He had a source," Raphael replied. "We've taken care of it."  
  
"Wait, so you're saying that you came here, now, to say that you've taken care of everything?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"I hate you."  
  
Raphael blinked, his brow furrowing as he watched his bond brother drop back onto the mattress with a groan. That Dean wasn't serious he knew for a certainty, but  _what_  his bond brother actually meant he wasn't at all sure.  
  
"He is annoyed at you for waking him in the middle of the night just to tell him that he doesn't need to do or worry about anything."  
  
"Oh," Raphael replied, bemused.  
  
He still didn't really get it, but then, he didn't really understand the human need for sleep either so perhaps that was why.  
  
"Freaking angels," Dean muttered into his pillow.  
  


* * *

  
Several hours later, Dean was once again silently cursing angels. Though he'd woken on his own this time and was still happily snoozing, he could distinctly feel the disruption in his usual sleep pattern. And since when had he become so reliant on six to seven solid hours of solid, uninterrupted sleep anyway? His husband was spoiling him rotten.  
  
Almost as if Castiel had heard his thoughts, his angel moved behind Dean. He made a half-articulate noise in the back of his throat and was about to try drifting off once more when a proprietary hand slid along his hip. Instantly arousal of both the sexual and the alertness variety flooded through him and his morning wood was already hardening even further as Castiel rolled him onto his back. The look on his husband's face along with what he felt over their bond made his mouth go dry and he had to lick his lips twice before he could speak.  
  
"Dude, you really got a jealousy kink, don't you?" Dean questioned.  
  
"Are you complaining?" Castiel asked, hands drifting over Dean's chest.  
  
"No, not even close, but you  _know_  that you've got nothing to worry about."  
  
"That doesn't mean I have to like the way everyone looks at you."  
  
Dean rolled his eyes. "Not everyone."  
  
"More than you'd think and fewer with pure intentions than I'd like."  
  
The meaning of the words stopped Dean short for a moment. He was well aware of the evil and darkness that existed out there in the world, but it still somehow managed to surprise him when it came to people. Sure, he was well aware of the kind of unsavory attention that he'd once drawn as a teen, but most of that had stopped when he'd shot up in height and started packing on muscle. Or at least he'd thought that it had, maybe those types of guys had just taken more care to hide it once he'd looked like he could trash their asses, not that he hadn't before that, but they hadn't known that. No, they'd just seen a pretty face and assumed helplessness along with it.  
  
"Ignore them, Cas, they're not worth wasting time over," Dean said. "Besides, as long as they don't do anything, people can fantasize all they want even if others don't like it."  
  
"Mine," Castiel growled, pulling him close and Dean's breath hitched.  
  
Yeah, he  _so_  didn't mind his husband's jealous streak, especially since it had never been triggered by his harmless flirting with others. Rational thought then fled as he was kissed to within an inch of his life and Castiel shifted on top of him, bringing their cocks into contact. He moaned and then panted for air as his angel attacked his jaw and the side of his neck with lips and teeth. Castiel was also moving his hips lazily, grinding against him but it wasn't enough, not nearly enough.  
  
With a frustrated little sound, Dean brought his hands up, one carting into the feathers of his husband's closest wing while the other went for the sensitive skin and glands at the base of the opposite set of wings. As expected, his bond mate reacted, jerking against him harder and he moaned. The relief was short lived though as Castiel shifted and swept his arms up, catching Dean's wrists and effortlessly pining them to the bed above his head, first with one hand and then with his Grace.  
  
"Fuck," Dean muttered, head falling back against the pillow.  
  
"Mm, we'll get there, just not yet," Castiel teased before latching onto one of his nipples.  
  
"Cas!" Dean complained, back arching.  
  
Another moan was pulled from his throat as his husband bit lightly at the pebbled nub in his mouth and Dean couldn't help but wonder if he'd be covered in marks later. It wouldn't be the first time and the thought never failed to turn him on. Helpless to do anything else, he writhed on the sheets as Castiel took his sweet time, moving at a torturously slow pace until he was shamelessly begging his angel as the only reason that he hadn't come yet was because Castiel kept preventing him from doing so.  
  
"So beautiful," Castiel murmured, whispering into his skin as his husband finally ( _finally!_ ) pushed a well-oiled finger into him. "Do you have any idea what you look like right now? What your soul looks like?"  
  
If Dean had thought that Castiel preparing him meant that things were about to start moving faster, he was sorely mistaken. It actually felt like things were going  _slower_  than before, but he was hardly in a state to be certain, feeling more incoherent than anything else. If his husband kept it up any longer, he felt that he'd die of need. Well either that or he'd spontaneously combust on the spot. But what a way to go!  
  
Dean wasn't sure when Castiel had started using his wings but he could feel them now, running teasingly along his sweat-slicked skin as he trembled, moaning continuously now and shamelessly too. His toes had long since curled though his legs lay open and pliant, all of his apparently futile attempts to encourage his angel to go  _harder, faster_  already expended.  
  
"Your soul is all but blinding right now, even to angelic eyes," Castiel said, voice strained.  
  
"Cas," Dean managed to plead with a supreme effort.  
  
Either his bond mate finally took pity on him or Castiel just couldn't resist any longer himself. Regardless, Dean keened as the fingers were pulled out from him. Before he could do or think anything else, though, his angel was already pushing into him with his cock. With both of his husband's hands at his hips, he'd expected to be able to come now, but found that he still couldn't. A glance down caused the rest of his brain to fry as he saw that Castiel was using part of his true form to encircle the base of his cock, preventing him from reaching orgasm.  
  
" _Cheater,_ " Dean sent and it was if a damn broke.  
  
His accusation seemed doubly relevant then as Dean realized that his husband had been shielding out some of his emotions, preventing them from being fully transmitted across their bond. So that's how Castiel had been able to resist taking him for so long despite teasing him mercilessly. Now that the barrier was down, though, his bond mate was as completely lost as he was and already Dean could feel Castiel's thrusts start to stutter and fail within him. As soon as his husband released him, he came with a cry, blinding pleasure flooding through him along with long sought after relief.  
  
Just as it all became too much, Dean felt his angel's cock spasm deep within him before warmth spilled into him and all went dark.  
  


* * *

  
The boy had gotten up late and a large part of Bobby had wanted to tease Dean about that, but one look at the necklace of dark bruises on the boy's throat had his words dying in his own throat, unvoiced.  
  
Castiel had left hickeys.  
  
Plural.  
  
It was far more than Bobby had wanted to see or even to know about what had undoubtedly happened earlier that very morning. He could have sworn that he'd heard some sound from the room that Samuel had prepared for his oldest grandson and the angel, but now he wasn't so sure. From all of the complaining that Sam had done over the years, he was the unfortunate possessor of the knowledge that his favorite Winchester was  _not_  silent when... uh, having a good time. So clearly for a small sound to be the only thing that he'd heard meant that Castiel had some way of soundproofing the room. Which meant that he couldn't have heard anything.  
  
Well, not unless that soundproofing had failed for some reason...  
  
Bobby would gladly have kicked his own idjit brain for that thought and the mental images that accompanied it if it were at all possible. He  _so_  didn't want to either know or be thinking about that right now. Or ever actually.  
  
Right, what had he been thinking again before he'd been so unfortunately sidetracked? Oh, right, the boy had gotten up late, not that Dean looked any the better for it.  
  
"You look like shit," Bobby stated, exaggerating more than a little but not wanting to get into some kind of chick flick moment where he commented on the boy's somewhat tired face.  
  
Besides, Dean would hardly react well to that. Like this, however, Bobby felt pretty confident that the boy would respond and he was not disappointed.  
  
Dean snorted, glancing up from his breakfast just long enough to glare at him. "'s not my fault. Freaking angels."  
  
Bobby's eyebrows shot up, stunned speechless that Dean of all people would volunteer information like that. Or at least that the boy would do so in relation to this particular relationship of his. Others, sure, but this one?  
  
And his mind was back to picturing things that Bobby  _really_  rather wished that it wouldn't as he had no interest or business imaging  _that_.  
  
"You'd think that they'd have learned by now that humans need sleep. But, no, instead they just appear in the middle of the night, wake you up, only to say that everything's under control and you don't need to worry or do anything."  
  
Okay, that didn't sound at all like what he'd been fearing and Bobby frowned. "What you talking about now?"  
  
"Michael and Raphael. Last night, in my room. Freaking angels."  
  
As the pieces finally slotted into place, Bobby couldn't help but laugh.  
  
"'s not funny."  
  
"Of course it is, ya idjit. That's what you get for being angel central."  
  
Dean glowered at him. "I can request that they keep you informed personally of any relevant progress or information as they learn it."  
  
"You do that and I'll tell Castiel every last embarrassing story that I know about you from when you were a little 'un."  
  
"You wouldn't dare."  
  
"Try me. You're the Angel Boy, not me."  
  
"No, I'm the Righteous Man."  
  
"Finally claiming that title are you?"  
  
"If it's between that and Angel Boy, damn straight I am! I'm not a boy," Dean retorted before a wicked smile crossed his face and Bobby felt confusion for a moment before he realized  _exactly_  where the boy planned to go with that statement and just no.  
  
"No. Don't even say it, I do  _not_  need to hear that."  
  
"But-"  
  
"You. Latin pronunciation training. Eighty-nine."  
  
Dean's mouth snapped shut and the boy's face colored as that particular memory obviously came back to him. It was one that Bobby knew that Dean would far rather forget had ever happened. Luckily the boy knew him far too well to do anything other than realize that he wasn't bluffing here and, clearly (thankfully!) there were some things that Dean just far rather his angel  _never_  learned about.  
  
"Blackmail," Dean muttered under his breath and Bobby smiled.  
  
"Idjit."


	195. Chapter 194

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The preparations mostly completed, the planning for the final confrontation begins.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
"Ah, you're up," Sam said as he walked into the kitchen to find his brother finishing up his breakfast. "Good, right on time, Sleepyhead."  
  
"Bite me, Bitch," Dean retorted.  
  
Sam's eyes flickered down to the fresh bruises that were quite evident on his brother's neck. "Looks like someone already has, Jerk, and I wouldn't want to make Castiel jealous, now would I?"  
  
From the subtle way his big brother's expression changed, Sam knew that he'd either said something wrong or inadvertently hit on something. Wait a second, hadn't Dean told him something about Castiel having a jealous streak? He'd never seen any evidence of that other than the way that the angel had reacted at the bar when that woman had come onto Dean, but then he really didn't want to either. He was just glad that his brother seemed content to not inform him of any details of what had happened last night, instead Dean just got up and took his dishes to the sink.  
  
"More coffee?" Bobby offered them, topping up his own cup.  
  
"Yes, please," Sam replied, snagging Dean's cup as well.  
  
"What's up?" Dean asked, turning away from the sink and accepting the coffee with a grateful smile.  
  
"I think that we have everything in order to denuke Lucifer and Simiel. Gwen was just giving Cas a call to see if the angels have collected everything that they had to get."  
  
"Really? Already?"  
  
"Yeah. I guess it's nearly showtime."  
  
"Crap."  
  
Sam could get where his brother was coming from, this was  _Lucifer_  they were talking about here after all and there was a very good and real possibility that they wouldn't survive this particular confrontation with the devil, but on the other hand they really couldn't afford to wait either. Lucifer and his demons definitely weren't, attacking people and places with ever greater frequency and violence. Just yesterday one of the largest cathedrals in Europe had been destroyed in the middle of Sunday mass. The death toll was already horrifying and still expected to rise as scores of people were still missing, feared dead or trapped in the rubble. He'd had nightmares of it all last night, only instead of Christian,  _he'd_  been Lucifer's vessel and he'd been helpless to resist as the devil used his meatsuit to cause the damage.  
  
"I got a report from Rufus this morning," Bobby began gravely. "Said he'd run into a demonic cult made up entirely of humans."  
  
"What? Why?" Dean demanded, perplexed.  
  
On some level it never failed to amaze Sam that his brother could still be surprised at the things that humans did. He'd have thought that Dean of all people should know what kind of evil and darkness was out there. A part of him treasured that naivety, though. It proved that despite all that had happened to his brother, that Dean still possessed some form of innocence. A bizarrely twisted and odd type of innocence to be sure, but still innocence nonetheless and he clung to it. He'd seen far too many hunters over the years who'd lost all of their innocence along with the ability to care and be compassionate and the results had never been pretty. His brother still had all three even if the ability to care had come under a lot of attack in recent years and had wavered greatly at times.  
  
The direction his thoughts had taken made Sam smile a little, knowing that he would have thought of things very differently until just recently and he thanked God that Dean and Castiel had been able to both recognize and save him from what he'd been well on the path to becoming. He was under no delusions that he was completely free from his own inner darkness, but it was becoming easier and easier to recognize and resist. The latter due to the fact that the former allowed him to see  _why_  it was wrong to just give in and allow the darkness to influence him as he had unconsciously been doing.  
  
"Don't know," Bobby shrugged. "But the reason they were carrying out ritualistic sacrifices of priests and church attendees was because they'd heard that the Dark One had risen and they wanted to pay tribute to their master."  
  
"And what? Gain favor and power in return?" Dean demanded, incredulous.  
  
"Something like that."  
  
Dean snorted. "Monsters I get, people, however... people are just crazy."  
  
Sam bit his tongue to stop himself from replying to that, not wanting to be the one to make his brother anymore jaded than Dean already was in other areas. He'd already been the cause of far too much of that as it was. A quick glance at Bobby and he fancied that he saw a similar kind of sentiment there in the older hunter's eyes.  
  
"Come on," Sam said instead, heading for the dining room where he and Gwen had laid out all of the items that everyone had collected.  
  
"Where's my coffee?" Gwen asked as they joined her.  
  
"Uh."  
  
Before Sam could get any further, Raziel, who'd been in the room vanished, only to return a moment later with two cups of coffee, one of which he handed to Gwen.  
  
"Thanks," Gwen said, clearly surprised.  
  
Sam looked pointedly at his brother, indicating Raziel with a little nod of his head but Dean merely smiled and shook his own head in denial. He scowled, convinced from what he'd seen that the newest archangel was sweet on his cousin. His brother had laughed when he'd first commented on it and had said that he was wrong, but Dean had refused to say why. This little stunt was just further proof as far as he was concerned. None of the other three archangels present had even looked like they were going to do what Raziel had done. Besides, of all of the archangels other than Castiel, he was beginning to think that he just might like Raziel the best. Sure, there was definitely something strange about the archangel (but then there was also plenty strange about every single angel that he'd ever met, Castiel included), but that didn't negate the fact that Raziel was much more human than even Castiel was.  
  
"Do you guys have everything?" Sam asked, looking at his brother-in-law (and, yeah, that was still weird) who'd already moved to Dean's side.  
  
Or had it been his brother who'd drifted towards the angel's side? He hadn't really been paying enough attention to know and these days it could really be either way.  
  
"All that we still require is the Forbidden Blossom," Castiel replied before stealing a sip of Dean's coffee and pulling a face. "Excuse me."  
  
His brother-in-law vanished along with Dean's cup and Sam was in no absolutely doubt as to just what Castiel was doing. He only hoped that the angel thought to bring back a supply of Colombian coffee beans to replenish the previous stock that had run out. He'd never even known that coffee could taste that good! All of this merely added to his conviction that Raziel was sweet on Gwen as it was the same kind of stunt that Castiel did for Dean all of the time.  
  
"Thanks!" Dean beamed when his husband returned with a cup that smelled heavenly.  
  
Sam saw his brother reach up to stroke what he was sure was one of Castiel's wings. Well it was either that or Dean had finally lost it and was stroking thin air, which seemed far less likely but not entirely outside of the realm of possibility either.  
  
"The Blossom is nearly ready," Raphael said.  
  
"So we should probably start coming up with a plan," Bobby stated.  
  
"That would be wise," Michael agreed.  
  
"What are the requirements for this to work?" Sam asked. "What needs to be in place for you to be able to do it?"  
  
"Just that Dean and I are together and have physical access to Lucifer and Simiel."  
  
"That's it?" Bobby questioned, surprised. "There's nothing else?"  
  
"No."  
  
"That's almost too easy," Gwen said, voicing Sam's own thoughts.  
  
"Oh, it won't be, I can assure you of that," Raziel stated. "It's just not in the set-up that we'll hit the snags. No, that'll all be for Michael and Dean to deal with when the time actually comes."  
  
"Because Lucifer will fight it," Sam realized.  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"That will indeed be the difficult part," Michael agreed gravely. "Not only will both Lucifer and Simiel resist with all of the power that they possess, but Dean and I will most likely be completely unable to defend ourselves from any other attack during the process."  
  
"Okay, so we'll need to arrange for a defensive perimeter or someone to watch over you," Bobby replied, pulling a notepad and pen towards himself.  
  
Sam frowned, not able to remember the older hunter going so far as to take notes during a meeting like this before, but then they'd never quite had one before the last time that they'd confronted Lucifer. It had been far more of a spur of the moment, or rather the situation, thing than anything else. Which was probably at least part of the reason why it had all gone so horribly wrong. They also had far more people involved this time, not to mention all of the angels that Castiel now commanded in Heaven, so greater organization was a must. Those extra angels would go a long way towards evening the odds a little, though he had absolutely no doubt that there wouldn't be countless demons joining the battle on Lucifer's side.  
  
No matter which way you looked at it, this was going to get messy and Sam knew better than to expect that all of them would come out of this alive. The thought made him look at his brother in worry. Dean had in some way or another either bonded with or connected closely to everyone in the room and would therefore be the one to come out of this the worst. No matter who they lost, his brother would feel it, all the more so given how Dean tended to take any death as his fault regardless of the situation. So, really, there was just no way that his brother would come out of this unscratched.  
  
And the worst thing? Well, Sam was under no illusions that Dean together with Michael were at the highest risk out of everyone present and there was absolutely nothing that he could do about that. The two of them would be Lucifer's number one target and even his own appeal to the devil would be nothing in comparison to the double opportunity that Dean and Michael would present. While he might be able to distract the devil before such a confrontation, during it he was a paltry second choice at best. Once the fight had begun he knew that Lucifer would not be interested in changing vessels as the process would leave the devil far too vulnerable, so his appeal would be relegated to that as ideal to have after the battle if Lucifer was victorious, but during the fight the devil's focus would be on winning it and everything else would be secondary.  
  
So it would probably boost his chances of surviving the fight, but that was all that Sam could hope for. The knowledge grated as he wanted to be able to  _do_  something, to not just be another cog in the wheel, but he tried to force that desire down ruthlessly. It was exactly that kind of thinking combined with the sense of entitlement that he could still feel that had gotten him into trouble in the first place. And not just with Lucifer, but with Ruby and Lilith as well. The mere thought of how he'd been played so expertly (and the fact that he'd been completely blind to it too) was enough to give him the strength to push it down now.  
  
He would not make the same mistake. Not again.  
  
Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Fool me thrice... yeah, no, just not gonna happen.  
  
"We also need to consider where we want to do this," Raphael stated.  
  
"What do you mean?" Gwen asked, frowning.  
  
"Unless we want to allow Lucifer to choose the battleground by going to him, we will need to choose a place and challenge him. The downside of this option is that it will mean that Lucifer will come prepared, bringing countless demons with him as well as Simiel."  
  
"Meaning that it'll be a war zone," Dean realized.  
  
"Putting it mildly, yeah," Raziel confirmed, his words belying the gravity of his tone.  
  
"Fuck."  
  
"And of course we can't choose somewhere like the old Wieliczka salt mine or any of the salt fields around the world," Sam said. "As Lucifer would never come if his demons couldn't follow."  
  
"Not unless Michael and Dean were alone," Castiel confirmed and Sam saw the angel stepping closer to Dean at those words as if his brother would vanish to do exactly that.  
  
Sam could totally get the sentiment though. There was just no way that he was allowing that to happen. Absolutely no fucking way.  
  
"So we want somewhere isolated but which might still give us a slight advantage," Bobby concluded. "How picky will Lucifer and Simiel be? Are they very likely to refuse to show?"  
  
"No," Michael replied quickly. "Pride has always been my brother's biggest weakness, so while he would not be stupid enough to come to somewhere inaccessible to his demons, he will easily believe that he can overcome a slight advantage on our part."  
  
"Plus there is also the fact that he will not care if it costs him demonic lives to overcome that advantage," Raphael added. "Demons are nothing but a means to an end for him."  
  
"He has gotten more cautious, though," Dean pointed out.  
  
"There is no harm in attempting to get him to a more promising location first," Raziel said. "All it will do is alert Lucifer to the fact that we wish to confront him, but he would have known that we would do so eventually, especially now that he has started attacking and destroying places. Remember, he  _wants_  this fight because without it, he will never gain full control of Earth and he'll have to fight for each and every inch of it that he can get."  
  
"I just wish we knew more about what he has planned."  
  
Sam frowned at the words. It was not like his brother to be the one urging caution. No, Dean was normally the one to want to rush in halfcocked, with just the bare basics of a plan sketched out. So why was his brother acting so differently now? Was it just that experience was finally making him stop to think or had the close connections to both Castiel and Michael rubbed off some of the two archangels' own caution onto Dean? It wouldn't be a bad thing, he mused, but then he remembered what his brother had said about the Rite of Contressa and how Dean had been to  _see_  Lucifer completely enraged in all of his true form glory so that could be the cause. He shoved the thought aside immediately as it threatened to bring back far too many horrific memories from his time in the cage with both Lucifer and Michael.  
  
The thought made Sam freeze in place except for his eyes which snapped over to look at Michael. He'd never really allowed himself to put two and two together before, always having other, seemingly more pressing, matters to focus on, but now it finally surfaced. The archangel standing here so docilely in the room with them and whom his brother now freely allowed inside himself on a rather frequent basis was the same one that he'd been trapped with in that damn cage and which he'd observed tearing into the devil and being torn into in turn. That was really a good thing actually as it meant that Lucifer'd had far less time to focus on him, but the realization was still stunning.  
  
 _That_  was Michael. Or rather, that was the archangel as he truly was, not disguised and made to seem far more vulnerable and powerless through the meatsuit of Sam's aunt. It was quite shocking and something which had just never quite sunk in for him as it was so mindboggling and because not only had he really not wanted to think about his time in the cage, but there had also always been other things to focus on. Not to mention that Michael now wasn't acting anything at all like the archangel had been in Hell. It suddenly made him a little worried about how Michael was going to react when confronted with Lucifer once more, but then that was kinda what they wanted.  
  
Well, if it wasn't for the fact that Dean would be along for the ride next time. It was something which Sam couldn't just let go, but he put it aside for now, deciding to speak with his brother about it later.  
  
"Well I doubt that we're going to be able to learn any of that," Castiel said before turning to look at Dean. "Unless you think that Crowley would be able to obtain some information?"  
  
"Possibly, though I think it unlikely given that he doesn't really take any risks," Dean replied.  
  
"Well, you could point out that Lucifer will undoubtedly be careless with demonic lives," Gwen pointed out. "And not only could that allow Crowley to potentially turn some peo- uh, demons, but it is also extra incentive for him because if Lucifer takes that route, then he could overcome us through sheer numbers."  
  
"Which would mean that Crowley has more chance of being stuck with him instead of us at the end of it all," Sam finished his cousin's train of thought. "It might work."  
  
Dean sighed. "I'll give it a try."  
  
The irony that it was him and Gwen pushing his brother to call Crowley now when they'd both protested speaking with him in the first place was not lost on Sam but it seemed like the right thing to do. He was hyperaware of how this could look though and therefore glanced quickly at Bobby and the angels to gauge their reactions. None of them seemed particularly pleased with this course of action but neither did any of them look disapproving either. Just slightly annoyed at needing the assistance of a demon. Taken together with his brother's lack of verbal objection, he assumed that this was really what he'd thought it to be and not yet another example of his judgment getting warped.  
  
Why did it always have to be such a fine line between the two? Or was the fact that he thought so just another example of how far he still had to go?  
  
Sam desperately hoped that it wasn't the latter though he secretly feared that it was.


	196. Chapter 195

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley is just finishing up his favorite part of a deal when Dean contacts him.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
The man was a devious chap, extremely devious, taking far more care with his deal than most humans that Crowley interacted with did. In fact it had been a few centuries since he'd had a human quite like this. As soon as he'd gotten word of what the man was considering, he'd immediately come up to take over the deal himself. It was one of the many perks and prerogatives of being King of the Crossroads now even if coming here at this time did place him in slightly more danger than if he'd remained in hiding. But then, he knew that Lucifer's minions wouldn't be expecting him to make a move like this and the first item of business that he'd taken care of once he'd wrested the title of king from his competitors after the resulting feeding frenzy that had taken place upon Lilith's death had been to bind all of the crossroads demons to him, thereby assuring him of their absolute loyalty and ensuring that none could betray him, even now when half or more wished to.  
  
So here Crowley was, doing his favorite part of any deal, namely sealing it. A task made all the more enjoyable for the fact that the man was a blatant homophobe. He could all but  _feel_  the human's disbelief that he was actually kissing another man and the man's disgust. Unable to help himself (and really not seeing why he should even try), he swept his tongue into the man's mouth. There was an instinctive flinch as the man fought not to pull back and Crowley smiled, savoring his power and the memory of the horrified dismay that had crossed the man's face when he'd shown up to seal the deal instead of the lovely Thalia. It was the little things that often gave him the most pleasure.  
  
The ringing of his mobile phone interrupted Crowley's attempt to decide whether or not to keep kissing the man until the human struggled to breathe. It would be interesting to see just how much the man was willing to take to achieve his goals. Alas, it was not to be.  
  
"I'll be seeing you in ten years then," Crowley said, smirking at the man who looked briefly freaked before backing away quickly. "Ta ta for now."  
  
Crowley waited until the man was safely out of earshot before pulling out his phone and answering it. "Hello, cupcake, how are you today?"  
  
The pause at the other end made Crowley smile. He so enjoyed toying with the elder Winchester brother. Unlike the younger one, Dean was always a pleasure to tease, not to mention quite easy on the eyes. As so often had happened, he couldn't help but wish that he had been the one to seal the Righteous Man's deal. Now that would have been one that he'd have enjoyed. He'd once considered trying to orchestrate the need for another, less demanding, deal, but not only did he think that Dean would never go for it, but Castiel wouldn't allow it and he had absolutely no desire to be squashed like a bug for messing with an archangel's plaything.  
  
Besides, Crowley could only remember all too well the burn of touching Winchester the last time. He was not stupid enough to think that the same or worse wouldn't happen if he tried to kiss the boy now. Castiel hadn't skimped in the slightest when it came to claiming his little pet and he couldn't help but wonder if Winchester was aware of just how much the once littlest archangel had marked him up for everything supernatural to see. And smell.  
  
"How's that rebellion coming along, Crowley?" Dean demanded.  
  
Abrupt and rude as usual, how boringly predictable. If it wasn't for the Winchesters' annoying little habit of coming out on top, Crowley would never have deigned to put up with such an appalling lack of manners for this long.  
  
"Those things take time and finesse, two things which you know little about, I know, but which exist nonetheless."  
  
"You say time and finesse, but all I hear are excuses and cowardice."  
  
"I've thrown my lot in with you, haven't I, cupcake?"  
  
"Only because your scheming against Lucifer was discovered. Which you did not out of any sense of consciousness or justice, but in order to gain more power."  
  
"No, I did it in order to survive."  
  
"Exactly."  
  
Wait a minute, Crowley had a brief moment of confusion before realization dawned. He'd just been played. By a Winchester.  
  
Shock froze him for only a moment before Crowley scrambled to catch up as he still couldn't see quite what the boy was aiming for here.  
  
"You want to survive and you know that is one thing which Lucifer has no interest in. I believe you even said that he'd start in on you demons once he was done with us humans."  
  
"You try making other demons see that, cupcake. They're so convinced that Daddy dearest is on their side that it's almost impossible to make them see otherwise."  
  
"Try."  
  
The command made Crowley bristle but he tried to channel his anger aside. If all went well then he would have plenty of time to teach the boy a lesson once Castiel's attention had drifted elsewhere or the archangel returned to Heaven. Then Dean Winchester would be his to do with as he pleased and he already had more than a few ideas in mind.  
  
"And say what?" Crowley replied instead.  
  
"That they'll be used as cannon fodder when Lucifer confronts Michael or whatever made you see the truth, I don't care."  
  
Crowley paused. "Are you planning something, cupcake?"  
  
"Just remember that if we fail, then you're on your own, Crowley."  
  
They were planning something. Crowley felt an unusual nervous flutter in his meatsuit's belly that he hadn't experienced in years. It was a mix between exhilaration and horror.  
  
"When and where," Crowley demanded.  
  
"That's need to know and you don't."  
  
"How do you expect me to create a rebellion if you won't tell me when to cause it?"  
  
"I'm sure that you'll hear about it when it happens."  
  
There were times when Crowley had to, reluctantly, admire the elder Winchester brother. Dean was stubborn if nothing else. The fact that the boy had managed to get not one, but  _two_  archangels on his side despite God's prophecies attested to that, even if one of those archangels was newly promoted. His suspicions on the other archangel's identity made up for that and so much more.  
  
"I don't think that you understand the blind obedience and loyalty of most demons, cupcake," Crowley stated.  
  
"So, what, they think that Lucifer will show them more regard and consideration than God has shown either humans or angels? Or that they can expect him to stand up for them or even risk himself when God did neither?"  
  
"Dean!" the protest reached Crowley only faintly over the line, but he was pretty sure that it was the other Winchester brother.  
  
It was something which Crowley only noted absently as almost all of his attention was focused on Dean Winchester's electrifying words. He'd never quite thought of it like that before, but it was a brilliant angle. Sure, most demons still wouldn't listen to him, their obedience far too blind or their minds just too dim, but for those that would listen, it was a very convincing point to make.  
  
"Do you really think that would work on someone like Meg?" Crowley replied, not planning on disclosing his thoughts in the slightest.  
  
"Meg's dead. Got herself smited by an archangel."  
  
With that the line went dead but Crowley ignored that to laugh aloud. Meg dead at the hands of one of Winchester's angels. He wished that he could have been there to see it himself.  
  


* * *

  
The silence outside was startling but exactly what Gwen was looking for. It was the kind of silence that only the snow could bring after it had blanketed everything in its thick white embrace and after several hours of nonstop snowing, which was exactly what it had done. The new fall crunched satisfyingly under her boots as she made her way to a plastic chair that had been left out on the porch. It was a quick matter to dust it off and claim the seat for herself, which she did, pulling her knees up so she could wrap her arms around them.  
  
The discussion of what would be the best location for their plan was still going on inside but Gwen had left them to it. Her knowledge of global geography was weak at best so she had little to contribute and had decided to use the opportunity to get away from everyone else for a few moments. The images from yesterday's news came back to her once more and she saw again the horrific extent of the damage wrought and it combined with what she'd seen on the news just a few hours ago to give her a chill once more. One of the foreign news stations had gotten hold of some new footage from tourists who'd been filming the cathedral and she'd caught a glimpse of a very familiar figure standing in the foreground. Or at least a mostly familiar figure as there was absolutely nothing at all familiar about the expression that had graced Christian's face. It still made her shiver to think about it.  
  
Logically Gwen had known what it meant for her cousin to have said yes to Lucifer, but emotionally it hadn't really hit her until earlier today when she'd seen Christian's meatsuit and it clearly wasn't her cousin pulling the strings anymore. And the worst thing was that if Lucifer kept pulling stunts like that of yesterday that it wouldn't be long before people caught on and then Christian's face would be forever associated with all of the devil's atrocities.  
  
It would become the face of pure evil.  
  
Just what the hell had Christian been thinking, saying yes to Lucifer? That was the one thing that Gwen just couldn't get no matter how many times she tried to wrap her mind around it all.  
  
Just  _why_?  
  
Sure, Gwen knew that Christian had gotten the wrong end of the stick about certain things like Samuel's death, but even then she just didn't get it. What could Lucifer have possibly told him that made Christian think that letting  _the devil_  in was anything other than a phenomenally bad and stupid idea? Especially after all that her cousin had had to say about Sam and Dean's choices when it came to demons and angels, respectively. None of it had ever been good so why had Christian not followed his own advice when it came to the one being who personified both angels and demons?  
  
The crunching of snow made Gwen look up from her thoughts to find Castiel standing a few feet away. She smiled at him for thinking to give her a gentle indication of his presence rather than startling her.  
  
"Am I bothering you?" Castiel inquired.  
  
"Yes, but it's probably for the best," Gwen replied. "I was wasting time thinking about things that can't be changed."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
It was a sound of genuine interest, made as Castiel took a seat on the porch railing opposite her. It was on the tip of Gwen's tongue to tell him that he'd get all wet from the snow, but then she figured that was probably nothing to Castiel. And even if it was, then she was sure that he could simply will it away with a thought.  
  
"I was just thinking about Christian and how he could possibly have thought it was a good idea to say yes to Lucifer," Gwen explained.  
  
"My brother can be quite persuasive, twisting facts and situations around until they suit his purpose."  
  
"Christian was going on and on about how I couldn't see what was going on before my own eyes the last time he called me. He thought that the way that Samuel died was proof that you, Michael and Raphael were manipulating Dean and the rest of us."  
  
"No doubt that is how Lucifer or Simiel made it appear, giving him just enough information to make Christian think the worst."  
  
"Still, it's not like Christian was some naive civilian who didn't know what he was dealing with."  
  
"Yes, but most of what he knew about Lucifer and the Apocalypse came either directly or indirectly from Dean and myself and he didn't trust either of us."  
  
"That's putting it mildly."  
  
"Yes," Castiel agreed with a nod of his head. "Which is precisely why Lucifer was able to make your cousin doubt. The kind of anger and even hate that Christian held for Dean and everything associated with him left your cousin wide open to my brother's manipulation as it meant that he wasn't thinking clearly anymore."  
  
"And so everything that Lucifer said that confirmed Christian's beliefs was seen as proof that he wasn't lying," Gwen realized.  
  
"It is more than likely, yes."  
  
Gwen thought about that for a moment, mulling it over in her mind. It made a bit of sense, but she still couldn't quite connect it with Christian's ultimate decision to say yes to Lucifer and  _let the devil take over his meatsuit_. But then, she didn't think that she ever would, no matter how much she learned of what may have taken place.  
  
"I still don't get it," she finally stated.  
  
"Neither do I."  
  
"How come you're being so calm and rational about this instead of being far more critical? You can never have liked him, not with how he always treated Dean."  
  
"No, but he was your cousin and you liked him."  
  
Gwen smiled, reaching over to squeeze Castiel's bare hands. "You're very good, Cas. Dean is incredibly lucky to have found someone like you."  
  
Castiel acknowledged Gwen's words with a small tilt of his head. Then the angel turned one of his hands in her grasp and warmth flooded her frozen fingers before spreading through her.  
  
"Thanks," she acknowledged. "I guess I better go inside, huh?"  
  


* * *

  
As soon as they'd divided up the inspection of the potential locations that had been chosen, Michael flew himself up to his vessel's room. Dean had said something about needing an extra sweater and now he saw his little one pulling one on. As he waited, he brought his hand close to the kalsika out on display and smiled at the strength of the emotions that it radiated.  
  
A snort drew his attention back to his vessel only to find Dean shaking his head. "Absolutely no respect for privacy you guys, I swear."  
  
"It is nothing that I was not already aware of, Little One. Besides, in Heaven such a strong kalsika would be displayed openly for all to see and touch freely."  
  
One of Dean's eyebrows rose. "Wouldn't that be a sign of pride?"  
  
"No, it is deemed a sign of respect for each angel involved, proof of how deep their bond is."  
  
"Oh, well thanks but I'd like to keep it a bit more private than that."  
  
"And so it shall be."  
  
"Let me guess, more meditation practice?"  
  
"Yes, we need to be able to achieve the proper state as quickly as possible."  
  
"Yeah, okay. But if we're going to do it we might as well be comfortable," Dean stated, getting on the bed. "Come on."  
  
The request startled Michael for a moment as he'd come to see the bed as a human symbol of bonding but his little one was sitting on it differently than he'd ever seen Dean do with Castiel. And he had also been invited onto it once before, when his vessel had been recovering from nearly having been unmade by the First Darkness that Simiel had given Samuel Campbell. A little uncertain but remembering how Castiel had been alright with the situation the other time he'd been allowed on it, he approached the bed and them mimicked his vessel's seated pose, figuring he couldn't go wrong with that.  
  
"So just like before?" Dean inquired with some unease.  
  
"Yes, and perhaps we can discover what it is that we have been feeling as of late."  
  
"Yeah, that would be good as it's starting to drive me a little nuts even if it has been very helpful."  
  
"I am wary of believing it all the time though without knowing the source."  
  
His little one's focus sharpened at those words. "You think it could be something that Lucifer or Simiel is doing to lull us into believing it just to use it against us later?"  
  
"The thought had occurred to me."  
  
"It seems a little subtle for Lucifer's tastes."  
  
"True, but not Simiel's," Michael replied and knew from his vessel's wince that Dean was most likely thinking of what she had done with Samuel. "She has always specialized in devising long-term plans with unexpected twists."  
  
"Great, that's just what we need."  
  


* * *

  
With that pleasant thought, Dean closed his eyes and tried to concentrate. The worry wasn't a bad thing now as it simulated in some small way what he might be feeling when they actually had to do this for real.  
  
" _I'm not really used to doing this,_ " Dean admitted, reaching out to his vessel bond.  
  
" _Doing what, Little One?_ " Michael inquired.  
  
" _Preparing like this._ "  
  
" _No?_ "  
  
" _Nah, I'm normally much more of a 'charge in and get 'em' guy._ "  
  
" _That I have no trouble imaging. But even for your bigger hunts?_ "  
  
" _Oh, I'll do the necessary research to know what I'm up against and how to gank it, but I've never really done trial runs before._ "  
  
" _That explains your seeming lack of plan when you interrupted Lucifer and me._ "  
  
Dean snorted, finding the action oddly distant and he realized with surprise how deeply he'd already sunk into a meditative state. " _There was no plan there, none at all. I wasn't just going to abandon Sammy and Adam to the two of you._ "  
  
A sense of concern washed over him and Dean just basked in it.  
  
" _You don't seem one to have given up like that,_ " Michael finally commented.  
  
" _At that point I was pretty much at the end of my rope. I'd already made an attempt to get into contact with you to say yes and been thwarted. I didn't really see a way out anymore. Hell,_ I'd _prayed to your Father, that's how gone I was._ "  
  
" _You never let it show. At least not to us, I was sure that you would never say yes._ "  
  
" _Hence the whole thing with Adam?_ "  
  
" _Yes. I should never have listened to Zachariah, but I was getting desperate myself. I thought that I had to face my brother and kill him._ "  
  
" _Yet look at us now. Who'd have thought back then, ay._ "  
  
" _I never would have believed it._ "  
  
" _Yeah, me neither._ "  
  
The sense of disconnect with the physical world from before was back and Dean knew that he'd achieved the necessary meditative state. That he'd been able to do it while speaking with his friend was a really good sign. In fact it now seemed so easy that he couldn't help but wonder why he'd had so much trouble with it before. Was it really all down to his bond brother being here with him? If so then that was a good thing as Michael would be with him when they needed to do this for real.  
  
" _I'm going to try something,_ " Michael said. " _It might feel a little weird._ "  
  
" _Okay._ "  
  
At first Dean didn't feel anything but then there was an odd twitching of their bond as if it were a tightly strung string or wire that was being plucked. It was almost vaguely reminiscent of being tickled and he had to force himself not react to it, not that he was at all sure  _what_  he could do.  
  
" _What's that?_ " Dean asked.  
  
" _I'm checking the integrity of the bond. If Simiel were to have managed to tamper with it somehow, this would show it._ "  
  
In that case Dean could put up with quite a lot of it. To distract himself, he tried to watch how his friend was doing it. Zoned out as he was, it was surprisingly easy to do even though they weren't together. As he watched his bond brother work, he could feel the unease rise within him once more. Not wanting to distract Michael, he kept an eye on it, trying to see if he could sense anything from it. Unfortunately (or fortunately), he didn't really have a sense of his bond sister so he didn't really have anything to compare it to. Now that he was focusing so closely on the feeling, though, it did feel vaguely familiar. But only really, really,  _really_  vaguely, to the point where it was more almost an instinctive thing rather than a conscious recognition.  
  
It was really bizarre, especially the sense of pride and joy that he experienced as well and it made Dean feel strangely uncomfortable so he slowly backed away from it.  
  
" _Dean!_ " Michael called out, panic tinged. " _Little One._ "  
  
" _What? What is it?_ " Dean replied, suddenly feeling his bond mate scrabbling at their bond as well. "I'm fine."  
  
The transition from meditative state back to normal was both abrupt and quick since Dean could feel his friend shoving him in that direction as well. The moment that he was back, he felt his husband's arms around him, full of tension.  
  
"What happened?" Castiel demanded.  
  
"I don't know, I was checking out bond to make sure that Simiel wasn't behind the vision," Michael replied.  
  
"It isn't her," Dean stated. "I don't know who it is, but it definitely isn't her."  
  
Which meant that they still didn't know whether they could trust the feelings and visions.


	197. Chapter 196

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Dean opens his eyes, Lucifer is there.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
The moment that Dean opened his eyes he knew that something wasn't right. He couldn't quite put his finger on what it was, but he was certain of it nonetheless.  
  
"Cas?" Dean questioned, pushing himself upright carefully so as to avoid hurting his husband's wings. "Something's not right."  
  
Dean glanced about the room as he did so, freezing as it almost seemed to  _ripple_  at the edge of his vision but it smoothed out as soon as he turned to look at it directly. The lack of response from his angel took priority though and he turned to look at his bond mate.  
  
"Cas?"  
  
Worry rocketed through Dean when he caught sight of his husband's closed eyes. Angels didn't sleep. So why the hell were Castiel's eyes closed? His bond mate didn't even close them when communicating with Xarael or another sibling of his in Heaven.  
  
"Cas," a voice behind Dean sneered. "How dare you mutilate my little brother's name thus? Renaming him as if he were yours to do so with."  
  
Dean instantly twisted around, careful to keep his husband behind him. What he saw before him made him freeze in shock once more. No, that wasn't possible! Not only that but it didn't make sense because  _he_  wasn't in the vessel that he should have been in.  
  
"Lucifer," Dean finally stated, desperately trying to figure out what was going on here.  
  
"Dean Winchester, I've been hoping to get some time alone with you for quite a while now," Lucifer replied.  
  
The room rippled at the edges of Dean's vision again until he flickered his eyes towards it briefly before returning them firmly to the devil. To Lucifer who was wearing Nick Grady's meatsuit again instead of Christian Campbell's. He frowned, trying to figure out what was going on here even as he reached for Castiel across their bond. The sheer distance that he felt from his husband and the lack of automatic reciprocation made him nearly forget about the main problem at hand here.  
  
Nearly.  
  
"I'm dreaming," Dean suddenly realized, the puzzle pieces slotting into place. "This isn't real, you're not actually here. You're just dreamwalking in my head."  
  
Lucifer blinked as if surprised before nodding his head once. "Yes. I had not expected you to realize that so quickly."  
  
"Yeah, well, I'm kinda used to having angelic visitors in my head, it's almost become a thing now really. Besides, I have this habit of throwing a wrench in all things, but angelic expectations in particular."  
  
"So I have found."  
  
Lucifer stepped closer as he spoke and Dean instinctively shifted to cover his vulnerable husband before realizing the futility of the action. If this was really all in his head, then Castiel wasn't actually here and the figure behind him in the bed was just a figment of his imagination, supplied by his mind as he expected his angel to be in bed with him when he woke. He wasn't entirely sure why his bond mate would have had his eyes closed then, but perhaps that had been his subconscious trying to warn him that something wasn't right? As if to prove the validity of his thoughts, he felt the presence behind him shift before it dissolved, leaving him alone in their bed.  
  
The devil's eyes tracked the change before Lucifer sneered. "Are you proud of yourself, Dean, for pulling an angel so low? For hopelessly tarnishing one?"  
  
Dean bristled at the words, feeling anger curl in his gut. He always hated it when anyone insinuated that what he felt for his husband was anything less than pure, but for  _Lucifer_  of all people to do so, it... well quite frankly it drove him mad.  
  
"As if you care about Cas," Dean snapped back, deliberately using his nickname for his husband. "You smote him at Stull Cemetery!"  
  
"You had already tainted him by that point as evidenced by the fact that he tried to interfere with the Apocalypse."  
  
"News flash, Lucy, Daddy doesn't care for your petty little fight with Michael!"  
  
Rage unlike anything that he'd ever felt before (and  _that_  was saying something!) reached Dean and he tensed on the bed, ready to either throw himself aside or attack depending on what happened next. He felt the Jewel of Abel start to form around his wrist as soon as he thought about it and that was when he realized that despite the fact that Lucifer had dropped into his dream, (into his  _head_!), that  _he_  was still the one in control here. Now, he didn't know if the Jewel of Abel could work here, but it was reassuring to feel its weight if only for the moment that he allowed its presence before he vanished it once more, just in case Lucifer didn't know about the fact that he had it in his possession. No point giving away an advantage like that after all.  
  
"You should show me some respect, human. I could squash you in an instant and scatter the shards of your soul across all of Creation so that even my brothers couldn't find them all," Lucifer thundered.  
  
"Not here you can't," Dean countered, rippling the very fabric of the dream all around them through sheer force of will.  
  
Now that he was aware of his own power in this situation, Dean felt a lot more confident than he had even a few moments ago. A second probe at his bond with Castiel proved that it was merely dampened, not blocked as he'd first feared that it was. A quick inspection of his vessel bond with Michael uncovered the same thing. It made sense now that he could think about it rationally. If Lucifer were to block the bonds entirely, then both Castiel and Michael would have known instantly that something wasn't right and reacted accordingly. This way it probably felt like he was sleeping but not dreaming. The fact that he was pretty sure that he could push through the blocks eased some more of his fears as he knew that all it would take was one hint of trouble for his bond mate and brother to react instantly.  
  
"You are a stupid creature not to fear the wrath and power of an archangel, Dean Winchester," Lucifer stated, moving away.  
  
At first Dean was glad for that, but then his eyes narrowed as he noticed the devil reach out towards his kalsika and Andaluzyian crystal. Both winked out of existence with a thought, but the adrenaline of that kind of violation remained with him and he shoved back the sheet and blankets, creating clothes around him as he rose from the bed.  
  
"Who said anything about not fearing you?" Dean retorted angrily. "I've felt an archangel's power after all.  _Intimately_."  
  
The barb twisted Lucifer's features as Dean had hoped that it would. The more worked up he could make the devil, the more likely he was to get Lucifer to spill something important. Like what it was that the archangel was doing here and what Lucifer and Simiel had planned.  
  
"Yes, you have managed to taint Michael as well as Castiel, but I shall not allow you to have either of them," Lucifer stated, moving closer once more and Dean resisted the impulse to back off.  
  
Although not the devil, he was entirely used to most angels crowding his personal space.  
  
"Allow me to have them? I'm not forcing them to do anything!" Dean exclaimed. "They've chosen to do what they have of their own free will."  
  
Not liking the feel of being threatened in his own bedroom, Dean found the scenery shifting around them even before he'd consciously decided to do so. Which was probably why, when the world reformed around them, they were standing in Stull Cemetery. Not his smartest move ever, he had to admit, but then his subconscious had probably figured that this place had no good memories for his most disliked bond brother to ruin. Plus this was pretty much where he'd always met Lucifer so he wasn't particularly surprised that the place was tied to the devil in his subconscious.  
  
"Angels don't have free will, Father doesn't allow it."  
  
Lucifer's voice was still a snarl but Dean thought that he could detect something new underneath it that hadn't been there before. Too bad that he couldn't fully focus on it as he felt like it was important. But to take any of his attention away from Lucifer would be a mistake he knew. Dream or not, this was  _the devil_  he was dealing with here and he knew that his most hated bond brother would stop at nothing to destroy or harm him and he didn't even want to think of all of the ways that Lucifer could mess him up even here.  
  
"They do now," Dean replied simply. "Cas is living proof of that, literally."  
  
More rage reached Dean and the very air around the devil seemed to darken. For the briefest of instants he thought that he could detect the outline of Lucifer's wings, but he suppressed the thought the moment that it occurred to him before doing the same with his vision. He wasn't with Michael right now so he really shouldn't be seeing his bond brother's wings if he were a normal vessel and the absolutely last thing that he wanted to do was to tip Lucifer off to the fact that he wasn't. The only reason that he hadn't done so already was the fact that the last time he'd seen the devil in this particular vessel, he genuinely hadn't been able to see Lucifer's wings, so the lack of them had appeared abnormal at first. He could only hope that his bond brother either hadn't noticed or hadn't realized the significance of dream Castiel's wings being out earlier. Perhaps Lucifer thought he saw them in his dream because Michael had allowed him to view them while they were together.  
  
"No," Lucifer snarled. "Father does not like independence or anything other than blind obedience in angels."  
  
This time even Dean couldn't mistake the undercurrent in the devil's voice for what it was. But really? His bond brother was  _still_  throwing a hissy fit over not being Daddy's favorite?  _Still_? How long had it been now, several millennia at the very least.  
  
It was all that Dean could do to bite back the taunting remark that automatically sprang to mind but somehow he managed to do so. That would do absolutely nothing other than fully enrage Lucifer which would not only be pointless but also incredibly stupid and dangerous. Needlessly so. He already knew that the devil was nothing more than a big spoiled brat on a lot of levels, so it wasn't exactly news to him. He supposed that it probably irked him more than normal because Lucifer was now also related to him.  
  
"Then why did He bring back Cas after you killed him?" Dean inquired, avoiding the spoiled brat issue altogether.  
  
"Because  _I_  killed him," Lucifer replied.  
  
And that wasn't conceited or self-centred  _at all_.  
  
"So then why didn't He bring back Gabriel? You killed him too."  
  
_That_  definitely got a reaction but not the one that Dean had been expecting. He'd been going for getting his bond brother into a sulky mood, a 'woe is me' and 'only me' state of mind but instead he'd just poured oil onto the fire and tangible rage exploded all around him and the next thing that Dean knew, he was pinned up against the side of the Impala much as he'd been the last time that they'd actually been in Stull Cemetery. Unable to help himself, he flinched violently at the memory and he was already halfway to waking up before he could stop himself. He had to forcibly wretch himself away from his meatsuit, hoping that he hadn't caused too much commotion in the process to alarm anyone who might be near him.  
  
"Don't you dare mention Gabriel's name, you have no right!" Lucifer roared, fists clenching in Dean's clothing.  
  
Okay, that was different.  
  
"Dude, it was just a question," Dean replied softly.  
  
"Gabriel's death is  _your_  fault.  _You're_  the one who turned him against me."  
  
Really? Lucifer was really going there? His bond brother totally couldn't take responsibility for any of his own actions, now could he?  
  
"You flatter me. Given how many of your brothers that you think I've led astray, you must think me some kind of siren."  
  
Lucifer actually let out a bark of laughter at that though there was absolutely nothing amused about it. "No, not a siren, just human. A filthy, selfish human who doesn't care how many angels he drags down into the mud with him. You revel in it, don't you? Ruining something so much superior to yourself, tarnishing it with your own corruption."  
  
"Oh for-! If I'm such a pathetic little bug then why the hell are you even here?" Dean demanded. "Why bother coming to see me at all?"  
  
"You have managed to lead Michael himself astray."  
  
"No, he managed that fine all on his own. All I did was help him see why Daddy was mad at him and left him stuck in the cage with you."  
  
That seemed to throw the devil for another loop and Dean used the opportunity to try something new. He focused on not being where he was and instead he concentrated on the area right beside the hood of his baby. The transition felt weird but it worked, dream logic being what it was and all, and the next thing that he knew he was no longer being pinned in place by his bond brother. Lucifer growled and then the Impala was being thrown through the air and Dean cried out, his own fists clenching. Before the devil could even close the distance between them once more, though, his baby was back where she'd been, pristine once more.  
  
Lucifer stopped abruptly, only just not running into the Impala and Dean nearly laughed. That's what the bastard got for trying to mess with his baby. This dream thing could actually be kinda fun now that he had the hang of it. He'd have to try some of it with Cas at some point. Narrowed eyes flashed up to him and Dean tilted his head, not quite able to decipher the new emotion in their depths.  
  
"You  _will_  pay for your insolence, Winchester," Lucifer threatened.  
  
"Yeah, I'm petrified," Dean threw back, startled at how not afraid that he actually was just now.  
  
Was that because he knew that he was asleep and that this was nothing more than a dream and so he knew that the devil wasn't actually in physical proximity? Or perhaps it was because of his bonds and the fact that he could not only  _feel_  both his husband and his best friend but that he also knew that all it would take to bring them running was a single thought or nudge to the bonds?  
  
Lucifer stalked around the Impala, clearly still angry. "I  _will_  see you quail before me in fear before the end. Your pathetic arrogance is misplaced."  
  
Dean snorted. " _You're_  calling me an arrogant bastard? It takes one to know one,  _bond brother_."  
  
Lightning and thunder suddenly rent the air out of nowhere as everything darkened and Dean automatically reached for his bonds. Lucifer, who'd still been moving closer, froze at that move. So, the devil could sense if he was about to terminate this session together and Lucifer clearly wasn't done here yet. It made Dean worry that there was something that he was overlooking, some plan of his most hated bond brother, but he couldn't  _feel_  anything nefarious being done to him. Could it be that the devil was just curious about him? Though the latter might be the most preferable option, he kinda hoped that it wasn't the case. Not only did it sort of freak him out, but it would also mean that he was more likely to get repeat visits in the future.  
  
Besides, he  _liked_  not being noticed too much and being underestimated.  
  
"You do realize that your being here is only going to inflate my ego even more, don't you?" Dean tried, seeing if he couldn't trick the devil into revealing a little more of what Lucifer was after here. "What with getting a personal visit from you and all."  
  
Instead of reacting to the bait, Lucifer was calming down, tilting his head in an eerily reminiscent imitation of Castiel's own behavior and Dean instantly hated it. Although he knew that the two were brothers, he really didn't want to get any proof of it. Not only did it pain him to know the trouble and turmoil the relationship had caused in the past- and not just for Castiel but all of his other bond brothers and sisters as well- but he was also acutely aware of just how painful the rapidly approaching confrontation would be for all of them. If his own experience with Sam's foray into the Dark Side was good for anything at all, it was to teach him that just because his brother had gone bad didn't mean that it dimmed his feelings for Sam any. That lesson had taken a while to transfer to realization as far as his angels were concerned, but it finally had.  
  
Now as odd as it was to say, Dean was glad that he couldn't actually kill Lucifer. Starting the Apocalypse was the original reason, but the knowledge of the pain he'd inflict on those he held most dear had now become the main reason for that.  
  
"You are different, Dean Winchester," Lucifer finally stated thoughtfully, severely freaking Dean out. "Father made you different from any other of His precious little mud monkeys."  
  
"What? No he didn't."  
  
"No, that's what I used to think, which was my mistake, but it is not one that I'll be making again."  
  
Dean didn't like the sound of that, not at all. "Seriously, Sam's not gonna be happy with you when he hears that you've been stroking my ego. He thinks it's big enough as it is."  
  
"You're far more dangerous than a normal human, especially now that my brothers have been given you information and knowledge meant only for angels. I will not underestimate you again, Dean Winchester."  
  
Although not angry or enraged like earlier, Dean felt far more trapped by Lucifer's close proximity now than he had before and he was acutely aware of how his eyes had widened and his heart had started racing involuntarily. Realizing that he wasn't going to get anything useful from his bond brother anymore, he reached out for his meatsuit and  _pulled_  himself towards it. The transition was abrupt and he shot fully awake violently, shooting into an upright position and earning himself a face full of feathers.  
  
"Dean?" Castiel inquired urgently. "What's wrong? What happened?"  
  
Before Dean could reply there was a flutter of wings and Michael stood in the room. These midnight meetings were starting to become a bad habit. So much for his six to eight hours a night streaks. Those were starting to be a thing of the past. He snorted, if anything showed that they were nearing the end of the Apocalypse it was this disruption to his sleep pattern as he knew that his husband did all that Castiel could to ensure that he got what his angel thought was a good amount of sleep.  
  
"What's going on?" Michael demanded, scanning the room.  
  
Dean saw his friend's fingers flex and knew that his bond brother was but a moment away from drawing his blade. It touched him how quickly both of his archangels had reacted even though he'd known that they would. Between knowing and happening there was still a gap for him but at least he was starting to expect the right thing, something which he knew that Castiel saw as a big victory and rightly so. He tried not to think about it too closely or often, but he knew that he'd been messed up before. And the fact that he realized that and could admit it to his husband was a massive improvement and something he thought his bond mate should be proud of.  
  
"Lucifer just paid me a visit in my dream," Dean stated, bracing himself for what he knew was about to come.  
  
"What?" Michael thundered, stepping close.  
  
"Lucifer?" Castiel questioned, pulling him close and Dean could already feel his husband's Grace probe checking him out. "I didn't feel him."  
  
"Yeah, he depressed my bonds," Dean replied. "He wanted to make me think that I couldn't contact you, but I could tell that I could force through it."  
  
"But you didn't, not immediately," Michael concluded.  
  
Dean shrugged. "I figured that I'd try to discover out what he wanted. And I knew I was in control of what happened."  
  
"Dean?" Sam's voice called from the hall, knocking on the door. "Are you alright?"  
  
"We are fine," Castiel called back, checking the state of the blankets. "You may enter."  
  
"What's this? Is our room party central at night now?" Dean asked when the door opened to reveal not only his brother but Bobby and Gwen as well, all fully armed as only hunters woken in the middle of the night could be.  
  
"We heard noise and were worried, ya idjit," Bobby retorted.  
  
"Did something happen?" Gwen inquired, pulling her robe tighter around her.  
  
"Lucifer dreamwalked with Dean," Michael informed them.  
  
Dean groaned at the commotion that statement caused. He wasn't going to get back to sleep anytime soon that was for certain, though if the devil would just be waiting for him again then he wasn't entirely sure that he wanted to either. He was pretty sure that he could convince his husband or one of his other archangels to dream walk with him instead as a precaution though, so it wasn't a huge concern.  
  
It wasn't until Dean was telling everyone about what had happened that he realized the contradictory ways he'd acted during his dream. At one point, he'd purposefully angered Lucifer thinking that he might get the devil to make a mistake or spill a secret while later on he'd done the exact opposite, swallowing something back specially so that he  _wouldn't_  enrage Lucifer anymore in order to make sure that he wasn't hurt. At first glance it made absolutely no sense, but when he thought about it some more he got it. The first was pure him while the second was entirely due to Castiel and Michael's joint influence.  
  
The fact that he didn't even care how whipped that made him told Dean that he really didn't have any further to go. Not that he'd give it up for anything in the world.  



	198. Chapter 197

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam demands some answers from Michael while Bobby tries to keep him from getting smited.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
"What do you mean you don't know what it felt like?" Sam demanded.  
  
"Sam," Bobby warned, wanting to shake the boy.  
  
For all that the youngest Winchester had said about the danger of archangels before and how Dean was treating them like just normal people, the boy was doing it himself now. The critical difference, however, was that unlike his older brother, Sam didn't have the respect and friendship (and dare Bobby sat it, admiration?) of said archangels. Now, given, of all of the archangels to all but verbally attack like this, Bobby didn't think that Michael was the worst choice possible- Raphael definitely had  _that_  dubious honor- but he still wasn't the best choice either. Castiel with his previous friendship with Sam or Raziel with his far greater understanding of humans and the volatility of human emotions would have been infinitely preferable.  
  
Yet here Sam was, all but taking Michael's head off because the archangel couldn't satisfactorily explain what had happened to Dean during their last meditation session. Bobby sighed deeply, wondering why he tried sometimes with the Winchesters, especially with this brother as Sam never could see reason when the boy got an idea into his thick skull.  
  
"What?" Sam exploded, turning on Bobby. "I just want an answer as to what happened to Dean. He's gonna have to do it again after all!"  
  
"Calm down, ya idjit," Bobby retorted. "Getting all worked up isn't going to achieve anything."  
  
Well, other than potentially getting himself smited, of course.  
  
"I meant exactly what I said," Michael replied and was it Bobby's imagination or could he hear an undercurrent of steel there? "It felt unlike anything I've ever felt from my vessel bond with Dean before."  
  
Uh, oh, yes, Bobby was sure of it now, Michael was  _not_  pleased to be interrogated like this. The only question now was what the archangel was going to do about it. He honestly hadn't known Michael long enough to be able to predict how God's firstborn would react. Normally he'd be inclined to think that given Michael's closeness to Dean that things would be alright, but he'd seen how Raphael took almost each and every opportunity to make Sam pay for what the boy had done to his older brother, so he couldn't even rely on that. Besides, Dean's own feelings for his little brother were more ambivalent than ever before and he didn't know how that might affect Michael's behavior.  
  
"Yes, but what does that  _mean_?" Sam demanded impatiently.  
  
"I have not felt it before from my bond, therefore I do not know," Michael retorted, biting off every word.  
  
"Have you ever felt anything like it before from another source?" Bobby asked softly, hoping to distract the archangel. "Somewhere other than from the bond?"  
  
And Bobby still couldn't believe that he was speaking so casually about bonds, much less  _soul_  bonds. That connected to  _Dean's_  soul. If the boy wasn't so comfortable with it all, then he'd be seriously worried. Or was that precisely a sign that he should be worried?  
  
"I..." Michael began, trailing off as he tilted his head. "Maybe," he finally replied.  
  
"What do you mean, maybe?" Sam demanded.  
  
"Sam!" Bobby hissed, stepping closer to the boy.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Calm down, ya idjit. We're all on the same side here and Michael cares for Dean just like you do."  
  
What did it say, Bobby wondered, that he'd almost said 'just as much as you do' instead of what he had? He'd never have thought it possible but in less than a year, Michael had come to care for Dean almost as much as if they'd always known each other. He would be the first to admit that he didn't know the first thing of what it meant to be a vessel, but clearly if the human and angel involved both wished for it to be intimate, then it clearly was given how close Michael and Dean now were. It made him think of what he'd heard Raziel call his favorite Winchester only yesterday.  
  
 _Little brother_.  
  
It had stunned and shocked him speechless at first even if Bobby got it when he thought about it some more. Castiel and Dean were married after all. He just sorely wished that he'd been there the first time that one of Dean's new brothers (and sisters he supposed) had called him their little brother. He was sure that the boy's reaction would have been wonderful to see.  
  
"I..." Sam began before deflating all of a sudden and scrubbing his face with one hand. "Sorry, I'm sorry. I just... it's Dean, Bobby!"  
  
"I know, Sam, I know," Bobby replied, glancing over at Michael, pleased to see the archangel relaxing as well.  
  
Or at least so it read to Bobby. It was still a little freaky for him, seeing something achingly familiar in the archangel's vessel, but he supposed that it made sense as Michael's current vessel was Deirdre Winchester who was a lot like her brother in some ways. Oh, it wasn't often that he saw some of John in the archangel, but every now and then there was something that made him think of his old friend. He supposed that was due to Dean's influence as the boy had some of his poppa's mannerisms and he supposed that Michael would have picked them up while riding Dean's meatsuit.  
  
"I'm not sure," Michael finally replied, looking distinctly uncomfortable and it took Bobby a second to recall that Sam had asked the archangel a question before he'd told the boy off. "Which is disconcerting as angels have perfect memory and recall."  
  
That was just mindboggling for Bobby on several levels, both because he couldn't imagine what it would be like to remember- in perfect detail- thousands upon thousands of years' worth of experiences and because he knew that the inability to remember had to be unbelievably disconcerting if it had never happened before.  
  
"Dean just seemed to drift  _away_ ," Michael continued. "Like he might if we weren't together and he fell asleep. There was this distance."  
  
Now that bit Bobby could kinda understand, at least the panic that it had caused. He could now only hope that Sam was finally satisfied that the boy had all of the information that he wanted. He was getting tired of walking into a room to find Sam arguing with Michael about what had happened to Dean. They had more important things to think about. Like whether or not they could keep Lucifer out of Dean's head at night.  
  
Or was that perhaps precisely why Sam kept focusing on this? Because the boy didn't want to think about that? Sam wouldn't be the first Winchester to chose confrontation over contemplation.  
  


* * *

  
Although there were certain things about Raphael's second trip to the Hanging Gardens that were different, a lot was the same. But those differences really stood out as they changed the whole feel of the trip for him. The biggest one, of course, being that he didn't take Sam Winchester with him. Instead he'd done as he'd originally wanted to and gone to Australia to ask Kelly to accompany him. Her reaction had been hysterical and at first he'd thought that he'd done something horribly wrong before she'd realized and reassured him that it was the  _good_  kind of hysterical.  
  
Raphael hadn't known that there was more than one kind.  
  
Humans were strange.  
  
"Oh my G-" Kelly began, only just managing to swallow the blasphemy in time.  
  
The look of stunned awe on her face was similar to Sam Winchester's but Raphael found that he infinitely preferred seeing it on Kelly's face. It made him glad to have chosen to take her with him instead this time.  
  
"This is incredible!" Kelly gushed, finally tearing her eyes off their surroundings to look at him. "Thanks for bringing me!"  
  
"It is my pleasure," Raphael said, more than happy to indulge her for a little while as he had already cloaked their presence.  
  
"Can we have a look around?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Are you sure? You don't need to grab the flower right away?"  
  
"We are in the past, Kelly," Raphael explained. "I can take us back to the moment that we left no matter how long we spend here."  
  
"Oh, right, of course."  
  
The expression of surprise and wonder on Kelly's face now was different from before but Raphael wasn't sure how or why. He hadn't realized how well he'd come to understand his latest bond brother until now that he had so much difficulty reading Kelly. He tried to think of a time when Dean had acted the way that his friend did now but he couldn't think of one. Was that because Dean had already known more about angels and what they could do before he'd really gotten to know his bond brother? Or was it something different? One of those difference between men and chicks that Dean sometimes referred to?  
  
Regardless, Raphael gave Kelly a complete tour of the Hanging Gardens, letting her stop to stare at anything that she wanted to. It was a few hours before they returned to where they'd started but he hardly felt the passage of time, content to just watch Kelly and her enjoyment of the experience. Like Dean, she seemed to have gotten used to his stares, so he saw no need to attempt to curb his desire to do so.  
  
"Okay, thanks for that," Kelly said when she realized that they'd come full circle. "So what do we need to do now?"  
  
"This way," Raphael replied, leading her to where he and Sam had planted the Forbidden Blossom. "All I need you to do is to pluck the flower when I motion for you to do so."  
  
"It's time sensitive?"  
  
"Yes, it must be done at a certain point of the blessing that I will say."  
  
"Okay."  
  


* * *

  
When Raziel had reached forwards to brush his fingers across his forehead, Dean had expected the usual rush of colors and impressions to follow before they landed partway around the world in Iceland. Instead what he got was a shorter rush than normal before he suddenly found himself God only knew how high up, looking down at fluffy white clouds and the ground further down than he really cared to think about, the odd snake-like movement across the swath of land taking surprisingly long to recognize as cars moving along a road.  
  
Dean gave a shout and clutched at the arms wrapped around him. Instinctive fear shot through him and he squeezed his eyes shut.  
  
"Dean?" Raziel questioned, worried.  
  
There was a mad scrabbling at both of Dean's bonds before it abruptly subsided and that more than anything else allowed him to calm enough to focus once more. He'd been turned around and was now looking into the incredibly concerned face of his newest bond brother.  
  
"I'm sorry," Raziel apologized. "I hadn't realized that neither Michael nor Castiel had flown with you like this before. I would never have sprung it on you without warning otherwise."  
  
It took Dean a few seconds to get all of what Raziel was saying (and  _not_  saying), but it allowed him to calm himself even further. He wasn't just dangling in the stratosphere, he was being  _held_  there by an angel. He'd been carried via Angel Air countless times before, so really this was nothing new. Raziel had just slowed down far more than normal in order to allow him to enjoy the scenery as his bond brother had thought that he might enjoy it. Raziel couldn't have known about his fear of flying.  
  
That fear was of normal flying, though, Dean told himself, looking over Raziel's shoulder at the nine sets of wings now slowly, almost lazily, beating back and forth. It was actually a pretty amazing sight and now he wanted to see his husband's wings like that. Both thoughts allowed him to shove aside the last vestiges of fear and at that he felt the last remaining tension fade from his bonds which made him smile. Raziel had obviously told Michael and Castiel that they were in no danger, but he himself wouldn't have felt fully comfortable in their position either until he could  _feel_  that Michael or Castiel was entirely at ease again.  
  
"You okay?" Raziel inquired softly.  
  
"Yeah, sorry about that."  
  
"No, it's my mistake. I should have realized that my brothers wouldn't have thought to show you this."  
  
Dean laughed. "I've done my best but there are some things that I don't think will ever fully sink in or become automatic."  
  
"Nor would you want them to."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Do you want me to just take us right there?"  
  
Although the first response that came to Dean was a 'hell yes', he bit it back and thought about it. How often had he ever had this chance before? Never really as the only times that he'd flown when he could really see where he was, he'd been nearly out of his mind with terror. A look to the right made his breath catch in his throat as he saw there was a cloud  _right there_.  
  
"I'll take that as a no," Raziel said in amusement, flying them closer when Dean reached out to touch the cloud.  
  
It felt surprisingly wet to the touch, but then Dean supposed that wasn't all that unexpected when he really thought about it.  
  
"This is awesome!" Dean exclaimed.  
  
"If you tell Cas and Mike that, then I'm sure that they'll be more than happy to take you flying like this," Raziel stated. "In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if one of them took you up north at night to see the Aurora Borealis."  
  
"The what?"  
  
"Northern Lights, they really are quite spectacular."  
  
"Oh, okay."  
  
He was half tempted to ask Raziel to fly them through the cloud or, dare Dean admit it, to swoop downwards, but he knew that if he was in his husband's shoes that he wouldn't be entirely at ease until he laid eyes on Castiel again. It was already a feat that his angel hadn't come looking for him after his earlier freak-out.  
  
"Thanks for this," Dean said. "But we should probably go now."  
  
"Alright, you ready?"  
  
"Yep, to infinity... and beyond!"  
  
Raziel laughed. "I think you'd make a better Peter Pan than a Buzz Lightyear."  
  
"Hm, you're probably right, but I can't see the stars just now and dawn's too far off."  
  
"Puff, details."  
  
Before Dean could reply, the world shifted around him to the usual stream of changing colors and movement that he was now used to from angel flight these days before the ground rapidly approached and then they were there.  
  
In Iceland.  
  
"Dean," Castiel said, rushing forwards to hug him.  
  
"S'okay, Cas, I'm good," Dean reassured, returning the hug. "It was just a misunderstanding, that's all."  
  
"You're all good then?"  
  
"Well, beyond being way too cold, yeah."  
  
As soon as he was released, Dean pulled his over shirt tighter before zipping his jacket up over it. That felt better but he was still far too cold, he'd completely misestimated what the temperature would be like here. Sure, maybe the actual temperature was what the website had said, but there'd been absolutely nothing there about the wind and its chill factor. Even with his closed jacket, it still felt like it was cutting right through him. Then it all just vanished and warmth took its place and he smiled at his bond mate in thanks.  
  
Of all the places that they'd come up with as potential locations for what Dean desperately hoped would be the final battle with Lucifer, this was the one that had come out as the best. Iceland with its vast empty spaces where no one lived, plentiful volcanic and tectonic activity and large flat stretches. Altogether that made it perfect as a battle site, both from a human casualty perspective as well as a strategic one. The fact that it also provided them with the perfect excuse to explain away any and all parts of the battle that might be seen or which scarred the land was just the frosting on the cake.  
  
"Well, what do you think, Mike?" Dean finally asked. "Will he come here?"  
  
"Yes, I think so, Little One," Michael replied, stepping forwards into Dean's line of sight.  
  
"Hey," Raziel called from quite a bit further away than he'd been even a few moments ago. "I think this would be a good place for us to establish our main command."  
  
His newest bond brother had found the one spot in the entire ancient lava field that was slightly elevated. It wasn't much, but it would give them some advantage, especially for Bobby, Sam and Gwen who couldn't just fly up into the sky to get an overview of the battle. Altogether, Dean had to admit that his bond brothers had found what seemed to be the ideal location to call Lucifer to. There was just one thing which he wasn't seeing right away.  
  
"So what was this special advantage that Iceland has which you mentioned?" Dean asked.  
  
Other than some really awesome landscape, which Dean couldn't help but admire despite the situation and which he secretly hoped that they wouldn't ruin too much (though if that was the price of ridding Earth from Lucifer forever, then so be it), he couldn't immediately spot anything that could give them any kind of advantage. That, however, might be a large part of the point, though. If he could tell it on sight then it wouldn't be hard for Lucifer to do so either. Not that he expected the devil to be able to recognize certain things as threats. Like if there were ruins, for instance, then he might think that they could have belonged to some long ago Christian sect or were the site of some significant battle or place of worship whose ancient rituals and magic might lend them a hand but which Lucifer would dismiss right out of hand as having been pathetic and weak.  
  
Dean was therefore quite curious as to what this secret advantage might actually be, and not only from a tactical perspective either. One thing that he'd always noticed with angels, even Castiel at first though his husband had gotten a lot better over the past year, was that they were very linear in their thinking. Creativity just didn't seem to be a trait that angels had been, uh blessed he supposed, with. It was odd to think that God might not have viewed it as a characteristic that was important enough to instil in His angels at that point, but it was the only reason that he could think of as to why it might be that none of his bond brothers or sisters seemed to inherently possess it and rather had to learn how to acquire it slowly over time. Regardless, he was intensely curious to learn what it was precisely that Michael and Raphael had come up with.  
  
"Well we were thinking about Gabriel and what you said about how he died," Michael began sadly, looking away into the distance at the snowy peaks of some mountain range the name of which Dean knew he wouldn't be able to either remember or pronounce even if someone had told him it.  
  
"And that reminded us of who else Lucifer killed that day," Raphael continued. "Namely Odin and Baldur."  
  
"Yeah, and?" Dean questioned, still not getting it and for once not even hesitating to admit it.  
  
The realization of that stunned him momentarily before it nearly brought tears to his eyes which Dean had to force down. It was difficult though as his gut reaction was that strong to the realization of the fact that he hadn't even thought to hesitate at revealing what his father and brother would always have scorned him for or looked down at him for not being smart or fast enough for. Here, with his husband and bond brothers, he felt none of that instinctive shame at needing some additional information to clue him into what it was that they had in mind. He felt completely comfortable revealing that he just  _didn't know_. The arm that slipped around his waist and the satisfaction that flowed over his mating bond made him smile and he leaned back against his husband, accepting Castiel's body warmth even though whatever spell his angel had cast upon him did a sufficient job at keeping out the Icelandic cold.  
  
"And both Odin and Baldur are old Nordic gods like Thor and Loki," Raziel explained.  
  
"That much I know, I read the comics when I was a kid," Dean recalled fondly.  
  
It had been a guilty little pleasure of his whenever he'd been able to slip out of the crappy little apartment that Dad had gotten them for their extended stay in Spokane, Washington. Dean had found this hidden tree house in the woods that some kids had obviously set up as their secret lair and stashed full of the things they wanted to do when hiding from their parents and, most likely, younger siblings. It had been pretty well disguised for normal teenagers, but to his trained eye it had been immediately visible when his training had taken him to that part of the woods.  
  
"Then you know that they were once quite powerful," Raziel continued easily and Dean smiled at how his comment hadn't even phased his newest friend.  
  
"Yep. Didn't help Odin and Baldur much when faced with Lucifer though, even if Baldur thought that he stood a chance."  
  
"As the god of light, beauty, love, innocence, forgiveness and happiness, I'm sure that he thought that he would be able to," Michael replied.  
  
"The god of what?" Dean demanded. "Dude, he totally  _missed_  that message. He was anything but forgiving and innocent when I met him."  
  
"To the pagans, being the god of something isn't the same as being it themselves," Raphael stated.  
  
"Ya think?"  
  
"Dean, are you aware that the Icelandic people are descended from the Vikings?" Castiel asked.  
  
"Uh, no," Dean replied, still confused, before it hit him. "Wait, they were Nordic, weren't they?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And not only did they believe in the Norse pantheon, but the current population still maintains a lot of their old runes and symbols, both for the sake of tradition and for the tourist industry," Michael informed him.  
  
"The tourist industry?" Dean repeated in disbelief.  
  
Okay, now Dean knew that Raziel'd had a hand in this particular idea. Or at least in helping to develop it, because there was absolutely no way that either Michael or Raphael would have known or even cared about something so utterly human as the tourist industry. The thought, however, of something like that helping to keep alive the ancient traditions, and so potentially the  _powers_  of the old deities, was so utterly ludicrous and yet horrifying at the same time that he didn't know what to make of it.  
  
"Yes," Raphael confirmed. "I still fail to see how those who have come to learn the truth about Father and worship Him can still at the same time maintain the power and knowledge of the pagans, but at present it works to our advantage. See, because the Icelandic people have maintained the old religion to a certain extent, the names of Odin and Baldur still have some meaning here."  
  
Dean's eyes opened wide as he started to get where his bond brothers and husband were going with this. "And I assume there is power that goes with that meaning?"  
  
"Yes, precisely," Castiel confirmed. "The ancient magicks still linger on this land as they do in Scandinavia."  
  
"Now, while we may not be able to persuade any of the remaining Nordic deities to join us, we can utilize the dormant magicks from the land itself if we do so in the name of exacting vengeance for both Odin and Baldur against their killer," Michael stated.  
  
"And how do we do that?" Dean asked.  
  
"There is a ritual that you or one of your family members will need to perform to consecrate this field in their name," Raphael responded.  
  
"Geesh, what is it with you guys and rituals or spells? I swear, I've performed more of them in the last year than the rest of my life put together."  
  
Raziel laughed. "Perhaps because you didn't realize their power and potential until last year? There is great power in words and names, Dean."  
  
"Yeah, I'm starting to realize that."


	199. Chapter 198

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean thinks that he can secure the help of a new ally in the fight against Lucifer.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
Another thing that Dean was starting to realize was the fact that there was another avenue open to them as well. Sure, what his angelic family had thought up was a brilliant plan and he'd perform as many rituals or spells as were needed to ensure that Lucifer was neutralized once and for all given that they couldn't actually kill him outright, but there was one thing which they'd either overlooked or just hadn't considered or seen to be an option.  
  
"What is it, Beloved?" Castiel inquired, shifting slightly to look at him. "You've got that pensive feel about you that you always get when you have an idea."  
  
He did? That was news to Dean, though he supposed that if anyone would know what he felt like at these times, it would be his bond mate. It was still slightly odd to think that there was now someone else who might genuinely know him better than he knew himself. Or at least to be able to notice things about parts of himself that no one else had ever had the chance to get to witness before.  
  
"I was just thinking about Kali," Dean explained. "Perhaps we should get her involved as well."  
  
"The Hindu goddess of eternal time and death?" Raziel questioned.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Why would she care?"  
  
"She was involved with both Gabriel and Baldur at one time or another."  
  
"Gabriel was involved with a pagan?" Raphael demanded incredulously.  
  
Oh, hadn't he told them that before? Oops. "Yes," Dean confirmed. "It was a while back from what I got, but she was still with Baldur when Lucifer slaughtered him, so I'd imagine that she'd be pissed with him."  
  
"But enough so to risk her own life?" Michael questioned.  
  
"There's only one way to find out."  
  
"There is no harm in summoning her," Castiel said. "It is not like she will inform Lucifer of our plans even if she doesn't decide to aid us."  
  
"You can summon a pagan goddess?"  
  
"No, we can't," Raziel corrected.  
  
"But let me guess, I can?" Dean concluded, sighing. "Alright, what do I need to do?"  
  
"I will be right back," Raphael said before flying off.  
  
"We need supplies for this?"  
  
"Just a few items, Little One," Michael reassured before drawing his blade. "You could call her without them, but to force her to respond, we need a little more."  
  
"I don't think that we should do this here," Castiel stated. "Even though she wouldn't tell Lucifer of what we have planned, it would be best not to reveal our chosen battleground to anyone who hasn't agreed to help us yet."  
  
"I concur," Raziel agree. "And I know just the place too, come on."  
  
With that Raziel vanished and Dean rolled his eyes before nodding at his husband. This flight was longer than the last one and when they landed the first thing that he became aware of was the heat. As cold as Iceland had been, this place was hot and he started sweating almost immediately. Damn, but where the hell were they that it was this hot now of all times? Then he remembered what Raphael had once told him about seasons in the southern hemisphere. Great, so his little trip to Iceland had just turned into a halfway around the world thing. He was gonna have seen all of Earth before he was even forty at this rate.  
  
His jacket was the first thing to go, followed swiftly by his over shirt and t-shirt, but that only left Dean with yet another problem. "Hey, Cas?"  
  
"Yes, Beloved?"  
  
"I don't suppose you can keep my skin from burning, can you? 'Cause I don't do so well with a sun this strong."  
  
Raziel laughed. "No, with your delicate complexion, I don't suppose that you would."  
  
"Bite me, Raz," Dean retorted.  
  
"Don't worry about it," Michael replied. "I was already going to keep you safe."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"Why would your skin burn?" Castiel inquired.  
  
"Because I've got the wrong kind of skin to tan like Sam can. I just burn and then peel, which is neither pleasant nor pretty."  
  
When Dean turned around to actually take in his new tropical surroundings, he noticed the way both Raziel and Michael were looking at Castiel's mark on his shoulder. Given how infrequently he wore wife beaters, he didn't think that Raziel had ever seen it before while Michael had not had many opportunities to view it either. At least not when there weren't other things going on. He just rolled his eyes at the typical angelic behavior before ignoring it.  
  
"Give me your hand," Michael finally instructed.  
  
It said a lot that Dean didn't even hesitate to do precisely that even as he despaired at how often these kinds of things required human blood. Why couldn't it have been something else? He wasn't particularly picky, anything would have done really. Although, on second thought, perhaps he really should be a bit more picky than that because, given his luck, the something else could just as easily have been semen or something equally embarrassing. And while he wasn't particularly adverse to coming more often if necessary, he didn't think that all of his bond brothers would realize that he needed privacy for something like that. Or it would be just his luck that the ritual or spell in question would require that the semen was produced at a specific point during the casting or carrying out of it and then there he would have little choice but to comply and have to try to perform on command. So, yeah, there were worse bodily fluids that so many rituals or spells could require, but why did it have to be a bodily fluid at all? Why couldn't it be something innocuous like a strand of hair or even something that wasn't human at all, like some dirt or something?  
  
Yeah, he just couldn't be that lucky.  
  
As Dean had expected, though, the blood had hardly even dripped from his palm onto the ground before the cut had already been healed. It was odd, really, as the pain struck mostly after the injury was already gone. Man but his meatsuit was going to get confused if this kept up.  
  
"Repeat after me," Michael instructed before uttering what sounded like complete and utter gibberish to Dean.  
  
Regardless, Dean did his best to accurately imitate the words and since his friend didn't protest, he assumed that he'd said them correctly. Then Raphael was back, handing a bag of something to Castiel before his bond brother began waving a burning bundle of something in the air, reciting some gibberish of his own. The smell of the smoke made him sneeze, but other than that he kept quiet, not sure what would adversely affect the summoning and what wouldn't. His husband, meanwhile, had opened the bag and was sprinkling something on the ground before him, right where his blood had soaked into the sand. It looked like a fine dusting of something, but he couldn't quite make out what. All he knew was that it made him sneeze again when Castiel collected some of it in his palm and blew it into the air around him. That made Raziel laugh and he scowled at his bond brother.  
  
"There, it is done," Michael stated once the incense had burned out and the dust was gone.  
  
"Just like that?" Dean asked in disbelief.  
  
"The difficulty in performing the summoning lies more in the acquisition of its ingredients than the actual spell itself," Raphael explained. "At least for humans anyway."  
  
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, just mock the poor humans. We can be quite determined if we want to be you know."  
  
"Of that we are all well aware," Castiel smiled. "But most would not dare to presume to summon one of their gods."  
  
The words made Dean frown and he absently wondered if God could be summoned this way as well. He severely doubted it as otherwise he was sure that his husband would have requested it of him years ago, but it was something to consider. He wasn't sure that he'd  _want_  to summon God, though, even if he could.  
  
"So when is Kali supposed to arrive?" Dean inquired. "Now or later on?"  
  
"Soon," Raziel reassured before a wicked smile crossed his face. "Don't worry, Dean, we'll not let the wicked witch harm you. We're here to protect you."  
  
Dean scowled at his bond brother, eyes narrowing at being compared to some damsel in distress, but before he could come up with a suitable retort, the very air around them darkened and heated. His husband was at his side before he'd so much as blinked and then Kali was there, standing before them with an absolutely livid expression on her face.  
  
"How  _dare_  you summon me, Dean Winchester?" Kali roared, her arms erupting into flames and her eyes blazing with a similar fire. "I should unmake you for the mere arrogance of even thinking to do it!"  
  
Okay, Dean would never admit it out loud, but he was totally thankful for the fact that he had not one, not two, not three, but  _four_  archangels with him as he knew that he didn't even stand a snowball's chance in Hell against Kali just now. Not only did he hardly have any weapons on him, but there was absolutely no way for him to get out of here other than by Angel Air. He was literally in the middle of nowhere with an absolutely furious goddess of death and destruction.  
  
"Try it and you will be the one who is unmade," Castiel growled, archangel blade sliding into existence in the palm of his hand.  
  
From the way that Kali's eyes flickered from one of his bond brothers to the next, Dean knew that they had all drawn their blades as well though he didn't take his eyes from her to check. His father had taught him far better than to check on a sure thing when he was facing something supernatural. Of course, John Winchester would be rolling in his grave if he'd had one at the knowledge that his eldest son considered certain supernatural beings as trustworthy, but the main point of the lesson still remained nonetheless.  
  
"We need to talk," Dean stated, cutting off anything else that Kali might have said.  
  
"And what makes you think that I would have anything to say to an insignificant human bug like you?" Kali snapped.  
  
Her attitude had cooled drastically at being confronted with so many beings that were more powerful than herself, but despite the briefness of their acquaintance Dean knew her far too well to let down his guard. Besides, he wasn't sure how long the summoning would keep her here or even if it was permanent, so he figured that it was best to just get right to the point.  
  
"Because we want the same thing, namely to derail this Apocalypse before Lucifer can complete it," Dean stated simply.  
  
"The archangel Michael wants to derail his father's Apocalypse?" Kali demanded incredulously.  
  
"Yes," Michael confirmed simply.  
  
"He has had you," Kali stated, her eyes returning to Dean and he pulled a face at the implications of her wording.  
  
"We have been joined as angel and vessel," Dean admitted. "So I know that he is being serious as he could have gone to confront Lucifer at that time."  
  
Castiel's fingers tightened on him as Kali shifted so Dean sent a wave of reassurance to his husband. Kali was many things, but she was no fool, so while still extremely dangerous, he was pretty sure that she wouldn't try anything stupid. Not with four archangels here; not after she'd witnessed their power firsthand herself.  
  
"What made you change your mind?" Kali asked, looking back at Michael.  
  
"Father and Dean."  
  
Kali's dark eyes were back on him and Dean resisted the temptation to shift. It was hard to imagine now that he'd once considered sleeping with her. True, now he knew what she was and that would always have had a cooling effect on his libido, but it was more than that. He was pretty sure that even if he didn't know what she was that he wouldn't even find her remotely attractive anymore. It wasn't that he couldn't see the beauty in others anymore as he'd admired a really hot chick just a few days ago, so perhaps he'd become more selective? Not that it really mattered except that the next moment, Kali stepped closer and ran a long, blood red nail down his chest.  
  
"What is it about you, human?" Kali questioned. "What is it that draws in angels? First Gabriel, then Michael and now this one here given that his scent is all over you?"  
  
Castiel twitched behind him, but Dean could tell that his husband was still in control of himself, so he kept his focus and attention squarely on the goddess before him. If she sought to intimidate him by her proximity, then she was sorely mistaken. Even her physical touch was hardly more than an irritant and instead he was more focused on her words. It was almost a relief to have someone asking him this question, but more for what it implied than the answer to the question itself, because it meant that Kali, unlike so many other people lately, just didn't get it. And that was good, because most of the time he just didn't get it either. Sure, he was able to look at himself and see his own worth far better than he ever could have before, but the way people and most especially angels, had been reacting to him as of late was really starting to freak him out on some level. So it was an immense relief to finally find someone else who just didn't get it.  
  
"Whatever it is, it isn't working on Lucifer," Dean replied. "Now, I assume that you want revenge for what the devil did to Gabriel, Baldur and the others?"  
  
"Gabriel was a traitor."  
  
"Hardly. You're just pissed that he tricked you. What, aren't Tricksters supposed to do that to fellow gods and goddesses?"  
  
"He was no god!"  
  
"Fooled you, though, didn't he?"  
  
The challenge was out before Dean had really thought about it, but getting an up close and personal look of her fury made him think that maybe he should at least try to engage his brain to mouth filter, at least a little.  
  
"Besides, you owe Gabriel," Dean continued, plunging straight on.  
  
"I don't owe him anything!" Kali retorted, but the brief remorse that crossed her features said otherwise.  
  
"Yes, you do. Not only did he die protecting you, but he did so  _after_  you tried to kill him."  
  
It wasn't until the words had left his mouth and Dean felt the shock that rippled back to him from both of his bonds that he realized that that specific detail was something else that he might have forgotten to mention to Castiel and the others. Oops.  
  
"You tried to kill my brother?" Raphael thundered, stepping forwards.  
  
"He'd betrayed me!" Kali retorted, stepping back so as to better be able to defend herself should Raphael attack.  
  
"No, he just didn't want to be found by his brothers," Dean countered. "His own personal witness protection plan he called it. He wanted nothing to do with the Apocalypse and was sick and tired of watching his brothers tear into each other all of the time."  
  
The silence that met his statement was quite telling even without Dean being able to feel the hurt and betrayal that Michael felt, but that couldn't be helped. It was the truth and that was just painful sometimes. He didn't want to reopen any old wounds that his best friend and the others might have, but he felt quite strongly that if they didn't fully understand just what it was that had driven Gabriel away, that they wouldn't be able to ensure that it didn't happen again to any of their other siblings. Or that they wouldn't be able to understand the decisions that Gabriel had made. Although he personally thought that the archangel had chosen one of the more cowardly paths open to him, there was a part of him that just couldn't help but sympathize as well. He himself had been there, standing between two fighting factions within his own family, small as it was, helpless to do anything to stop them. So, yeah, he knew intimately where Gabriel was coming from even if he'd never been able to walk away from his own family the way that the archangel had from his.  
  
There were times that Dean wondered if perhaps it wouldn't have been better if he had.  
  
The mere thought still caused a gut reaction of disgust and horror within him, but lately Dean had been giving it some serious thought. Hell, his own situation these days and the ways that he'd changed while being away from Sam and instead being with those who'd wholeheartedly supported and believed in him made it difficult for him not to. Yeah, he knew that he'd not have had that support back then, but would he have been able to find another way to gain some measure of peace? He wasn't sure and it didn't really matter as he wouldn't change anything given all that he'd gained in the past year, but still, at times he just couldn't help but wonder.  
  
"What did you have in mind?" Kali finally questioned.  
  
"We're going to draw Lucifer to a place of our choosing soon," Dean explained. "We have a plan to deal with him and the other archangel that stands with him, but he will bring thousands of demons with him and while we have whole garrisons of angels, your power and skills would be quite valuable."  
  
"You wish to use me as cannon fodder?"  
  
"No, we want you as a secret weapon that Lucifer won't see coming. He thinks little of you, as evidenced by how casually he slaughtered the others at the Elysian Fields hotel, but you have far more power than even his closest allies with the exception of Simiel."  
  
"Plus you'd be able to avenge the deaths of your lovers," Castiel added.  
  
For his husband that would be the only incentive necessary, Dean knew, and the same applied for himself. But for Kali, however, it would be just one of many factors in her decision. Though he had to admit that she had seemed quite attached to Baldur, but the way that she'd been willing to kill Gabriel despite their history said a lot as well. Still, combined with the fact that Lucifer had killed the other pagans as well as intended to kill her, not to mention having the sheer gall to consider his Apocalypse to be more important than hers, should (hopefully!) be enough to induce her to join them.  
  
"And just what did you have in mind?" Kali demanded.  
  
Dean shrugged. "Whatever you wanted as long as you promised not to kill any angels or humans. Oh, or Lucifer."  
  
"You wish to spare him?"  
  
"We must," Michael replied. "Killing him would trigger the original end to the Apocalypse and alter Earth forever."  
  
"And somehow I rather doubt that you'd wish to experience our version of Paradise," Raziel added ironically.  
  
That had been the right thing to say as Kali bared her teeth at Dean's newest bond brother. He could understand her desire to kill the devil only all too well, but he was also well aware of just why they couldn't do that and it grated.  
  
"Trust us, what we plan to do to Lucifer will be far worse than death to him," Raphael added. "And it will allow us to imprison him in Heaven for all eternity, never to be free on Earth ever again."  
  
Okay, why certain supernatural creatures sounded like bad movie villains, Dean could totally understand, as they'd have seen those movies, but Raphael? That he just didn't get. Where the hell did his bond brother come up with those cheesy lines sometimes? Luckily it seemed that Kali had never bothered to lower herself to watching any human movies either as she reacted rather positively to Raphael's words.  
  
"So he would suffer for longer than if we killed him," Kali summarized.  
  
Of course she would focus on that. It was to be expected, but Dean decided that if that was what it took to get her to help them, then so be it.  
  
"Yes."


	200. Chapter 199

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team Angel plans for The Battle.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
"So, Iceland," Sam stated, looking at the map that Dean had grabbed from the library. "Are we sure?"  
  
"Yes," Michael replied, absently stretching a wing and smiling when he accidentally brushed the tip against his true vessel who teasingly tugged lightly at a primary feather.   
  
"While it is not the most ideal location, it's probably the best one that we can get Lucifer to come to," Raziel added.  
  
"Speaking of which, just how do we plan to get him there?" Bobby questioned.  
  
"I shall call him," Michael replied. "The only way for him to achieve total victory is to defeat me, so he'll come."  
  
"Are you sure?" Sam asked. "I mean, sure, he met you voluntarily at Stull Cemetery, but this time he's the one at a disadvantage, not you."  
  
"Lucifer's greatest weakness has always been his pride," Raphael stated. "It makes him overconfident."  
  
"He did tell Dean though that he wouldn't underestimate him again," Gwen pointed out.  
  
"Yes, but seeing as my brother's opinion of Dean couldn't have been any lower than it already was, that might not mean much," Castiel said.  
  
"Besides, if he seems hesitant than I am sure that Dean will be able to think of a suitable way to provoke him," Michael added, amused at the mere thought of what his vessel would come up with.  
  
His little one shot Michael a wicked grin, waggling his eyebrows. "Oh, I'm sure that I could come up with something. Plus, coming from you it'll really enrage him as he'll see it as further proof of how completely I've corrupted you."  
  
"I wish you wouldn't seek to provoke him thus needlessly," Castiel lamented.  
  
"It's not needlessly if it angers him enough to act thoughtlessly. That could help us."  
  
"Did we want to put down some Holy oil traps just in case we get lucky?" Sam asked.  
  
Michael shuddered at the mere thought but attempted to think about the question rationally. It was unlikely that Lucifer, Simiel or any other of his fallen brethren would just happen to walk into one by sheer chance, but perhaps they could steer one of them into a trap.  
  
"Personally I'd not recommend it," Raziel responded. "I think it's too risky given how many angels from our side will be present. Even though we'd be the ones putting them down doesn't mean that the demons wouldn't be able to activate them should they realize what we've done."  
  
"So no Holy oil," Michael stated definitively.  
  
"Also, although we are unlikely to get the opportunity, if any of us call for you to close your eyes, do so immediately," Raphael ordered as he looked at Dean's human family. "It means that we're about to try and use our Grace to vanquish a large group of demons at once."  
  
"Why is it unlikely to happen?" Gwen inquired. "It sounds like a good strategy to use."  
  
"Because it utilizes a lot of our energy," Castiel explained. "It would leave us vulnerable to the next wave of demons."  
  
"Plus Lucifer and Simiel would no doubt use that opportunity to strike themselves," Dean stated.  
  
"Yes, exactly."  
  
"Wonderful," Bobby muttered. "I've been thinking about Dean's Holy water soaker and thought we could scale it up for this."  
  
"How do you mean?" Sam asked.  
  
"Fill a massive tank with water, sanctify it and then spray it over the demons with a fire hose."  
  
"A fire hose?" Raphael questioned.  
  
"That's a really good idea," Raziel said. "A few angels would be needed to get and operate it, but it would allow us to cover a wide swath of fighting without needing to worry about accidentally hitting any angels or humans."  
  
"No, you'd just soak 'em," Dean commented, amused.  
  
The idea was definitely different but Michael liked it. "We shall look into acquiring the proper items."  
  
"Great. Now, how about strategies? Will we have one beyond fighting off demons until Michael and Dean have denuked both Lucifer and Simiel?" Sam inquired.  
  


* * *

  
The bar was packed with men in leather jackets and ripped jeans and women in skimpy, barely-there clothing. The music was loud and exactly his kind, the competition at the pool table good for once and the booze cheap. Overall Dean was having a grand old time, though there was something odd about the place. It didn't feel either threatening or wrong though, so he just ignored it, giving his all to the game now that he didn't have to dumb it down in order to hustle someone.  
  
"You know, Freud would have a ball psychoanalyzing this little scenario and all of its oh so interesting and telling details."  
  
Dean looked over at the bar at the familiar voice to find Raziel casually leaning up against the bar, dressed in leather and jeans with a drink in hand.  
  
"What?" Dean asked, totally confused, not to mention thrown at his bond brother's unexpected appearance and change of attire.  
  
"Freud, you know," Raziel said, gesturing with his beer bottle.  
  
At first Dean didn't get it, but then he realized that the beer bottle wasn't entirely normal. The neck was slightly elongated and curved and the head was a bit rounder than normal, almost making it look like-  
  
"Shut up," Dean retorted, thankful for the low light as he felt his face flush.  
  
Raziel, the bastard, laughed. "Aw, come one, it's not like it's anything I didn't already know."  
  
Oh, Dean really didn't like the sound of that and sincerely hoped that his bond brother didn't mean what he thought that Raziel did. "You're here to keep Lucifer out, not to make fun of me."  
  
"I'm not making fun, just pointing out the obvious. You  _do_  know what they say about dreaming of playing pool, right?"  
  
"Huh?" Dean responded before the penny dropped and he looked from the cue in his hand to the balls on the table. "Dude!"  
  
"Hey, I didn't say it."  
  
"Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar."  
  
"Yeah, but that ain't a cigar."  
  
Dean pursed his lips, suddenly really glad that Raziel had dropped into this particular dream of his rather than something like those stripper angel and devil thing from a few years back, he could only imagine what his bond brother would say to  _that_!  
  
As soon as the bar started to fade around them, Dean cursed as he realized his mistake even before the two strippers materialized. Raziel took one look at them before his bond brother threw his head back and laughed.  
  
"Oh, that's awesome!" Raziel exclaimed.  
  
"Not cool, man," Dean complained, concentrating hard on the lake and dock where his husband had first given him a sign of Castiel's impending rebellion.  
  
Dean didn't relax until it materialized all around them.  
  
"Aw, come on, fantasies are perfectly natural," Raziel teased. "Didn't anyone ever tell you that? Besides, you can't really control your dreams. It's part of the whole point of dreaming."  
  
"I said, shut up," Dean pouted. "We're  _not_  talking about this."  
  
"I don't know, I think Cas might be quite interested in both of these dreams, but most especially the latter one."  
  
Without really thinking about it, Dean launched himself at his bond brother, but Raziel vanished at the last moment, sending him headlong into the lake. The water was far warmer than expected (the joys of dreaming), but he still sputtered and glared at the laughing archangel when he broke the surface once more.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, laugh it up, Feathers. Just remember what they say, he who laughs last, laughs best."  
  
"Give it your best shot," Raziel challenged.  
  
Dean smiled wickedly. If there was one thing that he was good at, it was catching angels (and archangels in particular) off-guard. He was going to enjoy this, he really was.  
  
On the dock, Raziel tilted his head, as if listening to something only the archangel could hear. "You need to wake up, Cas wants us downstairs.  
  


* * *

  
Sam groaned and stretched as he walked into the library. It was three in the morning and he'd already been woken up once this evening from nightmares. If Castiel didn't have a damn good reason for dragging him out of bed he was going to strangle the angel, brother-in-law or not.  
  
"Here," Bobby said gruffly, shoving a cup of hot, steaming coffee into his hands.  
  
The moment the aroma hit Sam, he was already starting to wake up. It was the really good Columbian stuff and he savored his first sip, eyes falling shut again in the process. He ignored Gwen's laugh and Bobby's snide comment in favor of finishing half the cup quickly. When he opened his eyes again it was to see Dean and Raziel entering the room. His brother looked much as he had a few moments ago, only more annoyed. Raziel, meanwhile, looked like the proverbial cat who'd gotten the canary. Not exactly a look he was used to seeing on an angel and not exactly one that he wanted to see on one either.  
  
"Uh, do I even want to know?" Sam asked, looking between Dean and Raziel.  
  
Bobby snorted, exchanging a look with Gwen. "My bet would be no."  
  
"Ha, ha, you're a regular comedian, Bobby," Dean retorted, scowling. "And Raziel here fancies himself a dream psychoanalyst."  
  
"Really?" Gwen questioned, leaning forwards. "Do tell."  
  
"No," Dean retorted, pointing a finger at Raziel who looked suspiciously eager as far as Sam was concerned. "Not gonna happen."  
  
Before Sam could decide if he wanted to push the issue or not (it  _would_  make his brother uncomfortable, but at the same time these were  _Dean's_  dreams that they were talking about here and there were some things that he thought that he might just be better off not knowing about his big brother), a grim-looking Castiel appeared beside them and shoved a cup of coffee at Dean.  
  
"Drink, you need to be awake," Castiel ordered.  
  
 _That_  did more to awaken both Sam and Dean than any amount of coffee ever would. If it had been anyone else, he would have jumped down their throat for speaking to his brother like that (or at least he'd like to think that he would), but he'd witnessed more than enough these past few weeks to know better by now.  
  
"What's going on? What's happened?" Dean demanded, accepting the coffee but not drinking it right away.  
  
"Lucifer has called us out," Michael stated, suddenly on the far side of the room.  
  
"What?" Sam demanded in shock.  
  
"It seems that he is tired of waiting."  
  
"Or that he's managed to finally find whatever it was that he was looking for," Bobby countered ominously. "Remember the antichrist's blood that he got from that farmer's family? It might have been one of several ingredients needed for something."  
  
"Crowley did say that he was looking for more stuff," Gwen added.  
  
"So this could all be a trap," Sam concluded. "And even if not, we'd be letting Lucifer chose the battlefield."  
  
"What's he doing?" Dean asked. "How is Lucifer calling us out?"  
  
"In blood," Castiel replied regretfully. "He's chosen Sabratha in Libya, site of an ancient trading post and town, and currently a tourist attraction."  
  
"He's killing the tourists," Raziel realized. "He knew that Dean would react to that."  
  
"Damn right I will!" Dean retorted, furious.  
  
"Dean-" Sam began cautiously.  
  
"What? You want us to just let them die?"  
  
"It won't help them if you only get yourself killed," Gwen reasoned.  
  
"Unfortunately waiting isn't really an option," Michael interrupted. "Lucifer has said that he'll change the location of his focus every four hours and... ah, entertain, himself until I show up. Now, I can go face him alone, but-"  
  
"No," Dean stated. "We go in together or not at all and the latter's not an option."  
  
"Dean," Castiel began but then trailed off.  
  
Despite the lack of words, Sam could tell that they were still communicating as their eyes were locked on each other. In any other situation it would be gooey and more than enough reason for weeks' worth of teasing on his part. Now, however, it was nerve-wracking and he didn't even know why because he knew that his big brother would win this one. Dean may have changed a lot during the past year, but not that much. In fact, he didn't even think that it was possible to alter that part of his brother, it had just been such an intricate part of who Dean was for so very long. Unlike himself and Dad, his brother hadn't latched onto the revenge or killing side of hunting, or at least not as his main focus, but rather on the helping and saving people side of it. Which was probably why Dean had handled it all better, or at least his brother had right up until the Apocalypse. It almost seemed like another lifetime ago, but he could still recall the Dean that had showed up at his apartment in Palo Alto, worried about Dad.  
  
God but had that really only been about five or six years ago? At first Sam was tempted to say that that Dean was long gone, but it wasn't really true. Lately he'd been getting glimpses of his brother like that again. How much more would Dean change for the better now? Was his opportunity to see that really going to get snatched away now? It couldn't be, not when there was still so much that he had to say and do and apologize to his big brother for!  
  
Castiel's shoulders slumped and Sam knew that he'd been right. "But it's not where we'd planned," Castiel protested.  
  
"The fact that we planned at all should have been our first clue," Dean replied. "It's not like we do that regularly."  
  
Sam snorted, he had to give his brother that one. He just had a really bad feeling about this one, like they weren't all going to make it back.  
  
"We should probably get ready," Michael interrupted softly.  
  
Before Sam had realized what was happening, Dean and Castiel were kissing and all he could do was stare. He had no clue who had started it, but then it was over and Michael moved to stand behind his brother. Part of him wanted to call out a warning or turn away, but he couldn't and instead he just stood there, frozen half in shock and half in horror as the first archangel put a hand on the back of Dean's head and then a light so bright it nearly blinded him shone from his big brother's eyes and mouth. It was exactly like when Castiel had taken Jimmy back and yet nothing like it all at once. He'd definitely know it as the same event even if he didn't know what was going on, but he'd also instantly be able to tell that the two instances weren't the same. This one was different from the last time he'd witnessed an angel changing vessels in such a way so as not to harm those humans present. It was stronger, more powerful.  
  
It was awe inspiring.  
  
Even though Sam had experienced the full power and might of an archangel up close and personal himself, seeing it happen to someone else was entirely different. It was nearly enough to restore his broken faith and the irony of that being so intricately tied up with  _Dean_  wasn't lost on him at all. Trust his big brother to find a way (unintentionally true but still so nevertheless), to get caught up in that.  
  
No matter how much Sam might have raged against it at times, in the end everything always seemed to come back to Dean. Only now he could find comfort in that whereas before he had always resented his big brother for it.


	201. Chapter 200

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean moaned loudly, the sound as gorgeous as silver bells, as hands ran over his over sensitized but still gorgeous skin.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
 _Dean moaned loudly, the sound as gorgeous as silver bells, as hands ran over his over sensitized but still gorgeous skin. They'd just had a round of vigorous sex not too long ago but his angels were insatiable when it came to him and he couldn't really complain. Not when he got mind blowing sex as a result of it on an almost constant basis.  
  
In fact, Dean couldn't immediately remember when the last time was that he'd left the sinfully soft bed. All of his needs being met, or relieved, with a snap of fingers. Though his inability to remember could just as easily be because his brain had been fried from the sheer, unimaginable pleasure that had made him moan wantonly. It had been a scene almost straight out of a prono, "Angels Gone Wild" or something like that. The thought of playing the part of the chick who'd insisted on personally worshipping each and every angel made his beautifully sculpted but spent cock twitch. It was a sign of the angelic Grace involved that it was slowly starting to harden once more.  
  
"Yes, that's right," his husband whispered darkly in his gorgeously arched ear. "You want it again, don't you? You want to be fucked, to be filled up and taken, don't you, Dean?"  
  
The Righteous Man could only whimper encouragingly at the hot words, muscular thighs falling open and his cock thrusting into thin air. Two sets of possessive hands roamed over his chiseled chest, tracing the well-defined muscles that Dean had worked so hard to get.  
  
"Cas! Mike!" Dean cried out, pretty green eyes begging his lovers to take him once more._  
  
Becky had to stop typing to fan herself as her mind raced on well ahead of her fingers, far faster than she could ever hope to keep up with. She'd started this fic reluctantly, being far more of a twosome threesome fan of Midestiel rather than a threesome threesome fan, but she'd been challenged to write it as part of a ship war and it had been either this or see her OTP go unrepresented and that would happen over her cold, dead body.  
  
She honestly didn't get it. Michael, Dean and Castiel were  _clearly_  meant to be together. How could anyone  _not_  see that? It was just so damn  _obvious_. At least the Destiel ship had grown tremendously in recent months as more and more of Chuck's new books got published at an astounding rate. Becky was still so proud of her old boyfriend for that. In fact the next one was due out today and she'd been waiting on pins and needles all morning for the doorbell to ring, signaling the arrival of her Amazon package.  
  
Oh, sure, Becky had probably either read or heard all of it before straight from Chuck, but  _still_ , it just wasn't the same as actually curling up in a comfy corner reading it from start to finish, in order. Plus she just couldn't wait for the other fans to realize that, yet again, she'd clearly known more of the events of the book in advance to anyone else. She was really starting to become a big name in fandom as a result and she still couldn't help but squee aloud with pride at the mere thought.  
  
Sure, she still received flames and nasty emails from her disgruntled old Wincest readers, but Becky could just shrug those off. It wasn't her fault that they simply couldn't accept how things actually were now, though a lot of the hassling had stopped when the book containing first Dean's realization of his feelings for Castiel and then his angel's reciprocation thereof had hit the bookstores.  _That_  had caused massive ripple effects throughout the fandom. Or no, it would probably be more accurate to call them waves or even tsunamis. The Destiel fans, of course, had rejoiced, making a lot of noise as their favorite ship became canon, but there had been a lot of dismay as well. Most of that, she was ashamed to say, had come from her old camp, namely the Wincest fans, though there had been some from the anti-slash group as well though they had seemed more shocked at it's (to them and she just  _didn't_  get it) sudden appearance.  
  
Becky could still easily remember her righteous fury when she'd heard that some fans were even walking away from the series over it. Something about homosexuality being a sin or that angels couldn't have sex. Really, hadn't they been paying attention to anything that Chuck had written at all? Well, it was their loss and  _Supernatural_  had definitely gained more followers than it had lost, especially when the first book with an actual sex scene in it had come out. She had to laugh at the memory of how awkward Chuck had sounded on the phone when he'd called her after writing it. She hadn't left him alone about it until he'd read the whole thing to her, making sure to point out where she thought that he should elaborate on things a little.  
  
Unfortunately, Becky had lost some of her elevated fandom status when she'd started writing Midestiel fanfic as the books hadn't quite caught up yet in regards to the Michael plotline, but when he'd first appeared and then become one of the really well-liked characters, she'd gained it all back and more. Not all of it was all that nice though because after her own appearance in the Winchester Gospels (and she'd all but  _died_  when that first book had come out!) there were those who assumed her to be nothing but a publicity stunt of Carver Edlund's.  
  
It was complete and utter nonsense, of course, and Becky couldn't understand how anyone could have thought that her copious amounts of Wincest were all part of a publicity stunt, but there you go. Some people were just crazy and would believe anything just because they wanted it to be true regardless of logic or evidence. The rumors persisted, though, and for those who'd figured out that her new fandom handle was the new and much-improved Samlicker81, her current fics were being examined and compared to the new books for evidence of the same. She's even seen a few theories out and about listing her new handle with a new publicity stunt, but now that it led to increased exposure for Midestiel and the photos of Dean, Cas and Mike that she'd put up, she really didn't mind and wasn't complaining at all. In fact, she'd actually taken advantage of her insider knowledge to drop a few hints about the last book, not  _spoilers_  per se, to get even more traffic to her new site.  
  
The results, if Becky said so herself, had been amazing, so she'd gone and done it again for this book as well. Already excited from the scene that she was currently writing and imaging how the rest of it would go, she couldn't help but open her browser and visit her favorite artist's website. Midestiel4eva was a goddess among artists, in and out of fandom, and she'd taken to Becky's photos of Dean and Castiel with a passion that was amazing. Midestiel4eva's portraits of her two favorite characters were just stunning; almost like photos really. Her Michael was a bit different. Like herself, Midestiel4eva clearly had not thought that Deirdre Winchester made a good Michael, but she wasn't really complaining about the results as Midestiel4eva had been drawing Michael as a  _really_  hot guy most of the time and when he and Castiel took Dean together...  
  
Wow, just wow!  
  
At this rate, Becky saw a cold shower in her near future, but it would  _so_  be worth it even if she absolutely  _hated_  cold showers with a fiery passion.  
  
Then her browser loaded Midestiel4eva's website and Becky felt the rest of her brain dribble out of her ears. This particular drawing was clearly a twosome threesome one as not only did Dean have wings, but he was on top and had that particular expression that Becky had come to recognize as Michael's in Midestiel4eva's drawings. And damn, but she'd never envisioned Castiel in  _that_  position before but it worked, it really, really worked. And hey, he was an angel after all, so who was to say that they  _couldn't_  bend like that?  
  
It took four rings of Becky's phone for it to penetrate that she really should be doing something about that and then another two for her to actually do so, though she wasn't sure what actually came out of her mouth when she answered as her brain was still mush.  
  
"Becky?" Chuck asked. "Are you alright?"  
  
"Guh," Becky replied ever so elegantly.  
  
"What?"  
  
"It... they... hot, just hot... scorching actually!"  
  
Chuck groaned. "You're looking at fan art again, aren't you?"  
  
"How can I not when it's so amazing and Dean won't let me watch the real thing. And I don't understand why not as it's not like he's got anything to be ashamed of, nor do the others. Well, maybe Mike in Deirdre's body, but even then it's not like I'd actually  _say_  anything about it. And if they did it with Mike in Dean, then even that wouldn't be a problem."  
  
"Others? Mike? Becky, don't tell me that you're-"  
  
"Shipping Midestiel? Of course I am. It's too hot not to. And, besides, it's  _so_  obvious!"  
  
"Becky, they're just bond brothers."  
  
"How dare you say that Chuck?" Becky demanded, indignant. " _You_  of all people should know that they are  _so_  much more than that. They've even bonded already in their own way."  
  
"Yes, as angel and vessel."  
  
"It might have started off like that, but it has definitely grown and evolved since. I mean you said it yourself, they're  _merging_ , how much more obvious could it get? All they need to do now is merge physically with each other and with Castiel."  
  
"Why do I even bother?" Chuck mumbled. "You'll just keep believing it anyway."  
  
"Because I'm right! You'll see. Dean  _needs_  Michael just like he  _needs_  Cas. Though I do realize that he might need a push in order to realize it. Which is why I think that it might only happen after Dean and Mike have become so fused while together that they can't immediately separate again. Then Dean will have to think about either doing it with Mike there or not having Cas at all and that he just couldn't do."  
  
"And do you think that this will happen before or after they finally get rid of Lucifer?" Chuck asked. "Assuming, of course, that they succeed."  
  
"I'd not really thought of that, either I guess," Becky replied before the rest of Chuck's words sunk in along with her former boyfriend's tone of voice. "What do you mean,  _assuming_  that they succeed? Of course they'll succeed! This is Dean that we're talking about here; Dean and Cas and Mike. How could they  _not_  succeed?"  
  
"I don't know, Becky, you've not witnessed Lucifer's power like I have. It's really quite something."  
  
"But... but... it's  _Lucifer_ , he  _can't_  win," Becky stammered, a hint of frustration rising up within her.  
  
"He's strong, though, powerful."  
  
"But not as strong or powerful as Mike."  
  
"Perhaps, but if not then it's not far off either."  
  
"What are you saying, Chuck? Are you saying that they lose? That they  _die_?"  
  
The mere thought of it, of losing one of her precious boys, was almost too much for Becky and she felt like she was going to be physically ill.  
  
"I don't know."  
  
Becky was so close to all out panic that she almost missed her old boyfriend's softly spoken words. "What do you mean that you  _don't_  know? You're the prophet, of the Lord! You're supposed to know these things."  
  
"I know, but there's this nexus and I just can't seem to see beyond it," Chuck explained. "I've tried everything that I can think of, but none of it works."  
  
"And what is this nexus?" Becky asked after an extended, uncomfortable silence.  
  
She wasn't sure that she wanted the answer to her own question, but Becky knew herself too well  _not_  to ask it. Being as good of a writer as she was, she knew that if she didn't get the real answer from Chuck that she'd just come up with something far, far worse on her own later anyway.  
  
"It's the big battle, the one that Dean and the others had planned for but which Lucifer then forced their hand on," Chuck responded. "I can see it start, but that's all. As soon as Lucifer and Michael reach each other on the battlefield, it all goes dark and then blank."  
  
"So they actually do end up fighting."  
  
"Yes, of course. Why, did you expect something different?"  
  
"Well, yeah, I mean there have already been so many battles that I thought that things would be different. You know, more elegant."  
  
"And just what did you have in mind?"  
  
"Well, in my current fic, Michael realized how many angels that Dean had set straight over the course of the series."  
  
"Yes, and?"  
  
"And he thought that maybe Dean could do the same with Lucifer."  
  
"What? Talk him around?"  
  
"Well, more like wear him down, really, but yes, essentially."  
  
"There's no way that Lucifer would listen to Dean," Chuck pointed out.  
  
"He would if he didn't have another choice," Becky argued.  
  
"And how did you arrange that in your fic?"  
  
"By locking them up in a room together, of course. It's a bit clichéd, I know, the whole locked up in a closet thing, but I figured that since it wasn't to force them to realize how they really felt about each other like in all of those horribly unoriginal and  _dreary_  fics, that it's okay. I mean, no one has ever done that with Dean and Lucifer as far as I know. At least not as a way of redeeming the devil."  
  
"You want to lock Dean in a room with Lucifer," Chuck echoed in a tone that Becky didn't immediately recognize.  
  
"It would force Lucifer to have to listen to everything that Dean said and that way Dean could work his magic."  
  
"And what's keeping Lucifer from just killing Dean?"  
  
Becky gasped at the mere suggestion of anyone killing her yummy boy. "Because he can't! Dean's the main character, not to mention that the fic needs to end with hot, steaming sex between him, Mike and Cas. Death fics are just horrible, nasty things and I  _hate_  it when they're labelled improperly without all of the warnings."  
  
"So everyone just needs to believe that despite being locked up in a room with Michael's vessel, who is annoying him if Dean is doing what he always does, that Lucifer  _won't_  kill the Righteous Man?"  
  
"Well, it does sound a bit bad when you put it like that," Becky pouted before she brightened. "Oh, I know! I could say that Lucifer will never get out of there if he kills Dean."  
  
"How?" Chuck pressed.  
  
"I don't know, a spell perhaps?"  
  
"They why not just use it on Lucifer and Simiel instead and throw away the key?"  
  
"Because it doesn't work like that. It would only keep Lucifer there forever if he killed Dean. Otherwise it just holds them there for a while, just exactly long enough for Dean to make Lucifer see the error of his ways and repent. Then Dean will have saved the day  _and_  done his thing on yet another angel. Plus we don't need a long drawn out battle scene and can instead devote more time to the important sex scenes."  
  
"That would be a bit anti climatic, don't you think?"  
  
"What? No, it would be elegant and fit in really well with the redemption of Michael and Raphael that happened earlier in the series. And Castiel if you go back even further. Can't you see, it would make Dean the Angel Savior."  
  
"Huh, I suppose that there is that, even if my publisher wouldn't like it," Chuck commented. "Not that it really matters."  
  
"What do you mean, of course it matters!" Becky exclaimed.  
  
"No, it doesn't. I'm a prophet, Becky, not a decider of the future. I only witness what actually happens, not what I want to happen."  
  
"Have you ever tried that?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Have you tried writing what you want to happen instead of what you saw?" There was a brief silence that Becky instantly recognized as a guilty one even if she couldn't actually see her ex-boyfriend. "Oh my God, you totally did! Tell me."  
  
"It was just the once with a scene I really didn't like and couldn't immediately see an outcome for."  
  
"Which one?"  
  
"The one where Samuel stabbed Dean with the knife dipped in what they call First Darkness."  
  
"Oh, that was horrible! What happened?"  
  
"It didn't change a damn thing, that's what happened, Becky. And that's why I don't do that anymore, there's no point to it."  
  
"Did you try calling them and warning them of what's going to happen? It bet you can change events then."  
  
"No, when Sam and Dean first called me, they tried that and it didn't work. In fact the only time when things didn't go the way that I'd seen them was when Dean and Castiel altered the events of  _Lucifer Rising_."  
  
"So, see, it  _is_  possible!" Becky persisted.  
  
"The exception that proves the rule," Chuck argued. "And the more that I think about it, the more that I begin to suspect that what I originally saw was a diversionary tactic."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Well think about it. Who was really seeing what I wrote back then?"  
  
"Your fans."  
  
"No, the publisher stopped at  _No Rest for the Wicked_ , remember? The Apocalypse ones weren't being published."  
  
"Oh, right," Becky said as she got what her ex-boyfriend meant. "The angels."  
  
"Exactly. And just how would they have reacted to knowing what was really going to happen?"  
  
"Not good."  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"So what, you think that God might not be quite as gone as they think and fed you a fake vision in order to help Dean and Cas get to Sam?"  
  
"Well He did get Dean and Sam out of St. Mary's Convent and bring Castiel back, didn't He?"  
  
"I suppose."  
  
"What? You don't think that was Him?"  
  
"It's never been proven."  
  
"Then who do you think it was? Who else is there?"  
  
"I don't know, but then half the time that there's a twist, I don't see it coming. Like with Cas. I don't think that  _anyone_  saw angels coming except for you."  
  
"Yes, that was rather unexpected, wasn't it?" Chuck agreed happily before his voice dropped once more. "Well this time even  _I_  can't see what's coming."  
  
This time the words sent a chill down Becky's spine and she couldn't help but fear for her precious, pretty boys. Especially since Dean and Mike would be at the center of any battle that took place. And Castiel wouldn't be far behind as he'd never let his bond mates go on their own. Not her little angel that could.  
  
Becky must have made a strangled little sound because then Chuck was speaking again.  
  
"I wish I could tell you that it would be alright, but I can't. And I've got a really bad feeling about this nexus too."  
  
This time Becky  _knew_  that she'd whimpered, but there wasn't anything that she could so about it. "No, it's going to be okay.  _They_  are going to be okay. They've come too far and accomplished far too much to die now!"  
  
"Do you really think so?" Chuck asked. "I don't think that I can watch them die again. I've seen it too many times already."  
  
"Yes. I mean, they just  _have_  to. It simply  _can't_  be otherwise."  
  
"I hope that you're right."  
  
"I am, now if you'll excuse me, Mr. Bad News, I have to go back to my Happy Place now."  
  
"Your Ha- oh, never mind, I don't want to know."  
  
"Just let me know the moment that you see anything more, okay? No matter what it is."  
  
"I promise."  
  
With that Chuck hung up the phone and Becky was all alone once more. The thought of her new book arriving at any moment now wasn't quite as exciting anymore, not now that she wanted to be able to jump ahead and read the last chapter of the last one in the series so that she could see how it all turned out and whether her three beloved boys survived or not.  
  
Whimpering once more, Becky turned back to her computer in desperation but even Midestiel4eva's gorgeous and stunning art wasn't enough to fully distract her from what Chuck had told her was coming. Her eyes flashed to the TV and she wondered if it might help her. The final battle between Dean and Michael on the one hand and Lucifer on the other wasn't just going to be some low key affair. Not this time, so there was a good chance that it might catch the media's attention, but would that help her? Would they catch any of it while it was happening? Or only just the aftermath? And would they even realize what it was that they were witnessing if they did?  
  
No, what Becky needed was a good, solid distraction. One that would fully immerse herself in her beautiful, precious boys. Which meant either a really good fic (but she'd looked earlier and not found anything new) or to jump straight back into her own fic. Opening her Word document again, she scrolled up to the beginning of the scene to see if she could get back into it once more.  
  
Once she'd gotten to the end of what she'd written, she was feeling flushed once more and her mental images of what came next were back.  
  
 _A third voice chuckled, deep and rich with words that flowed like liquid honey and bourbon, sharp and sweet. "Yes, that's right, Little One, beg for it. Beg to have our cocks in you until you're completely full."_  
  
The words made Dean moan prettily, his jewel green eyes flashing from one lover to the other, trying to judge which one would cave sooner. The hands on his beautifully toned and freckled skin had shifted to his more erogenous zones, but were circling them teasingly rather than actually touching them. His empty, aching hole clenched, desperate to be filled, while his mouth watered at the thought of being filled with one of his angels' relentless velvet covered steel cocks.  
  
"Please," Dean mewled, writhing beautifully on the sinfully soft bed. "I... I want you... both of you."  
  


* * *

  
Miles away, Chuck cried out and clutched at his head as the visions started bombarding him once more, hitting him hard and fast as the final battle started to unfold before his horrified eyes.


	202. Chapter 201

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team Angel makes the final, hasty, preparations they can before heading off to war.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
The moment that he'd fully settled into his true vessel, Michael knew that he wouldn't need more than a few minutes to fully recover from the transfer, which was good as they had precious little time as it was.  
  
" _Are you okay, Little One?_ " Michael inquired, not immediately sensing anything amiss but needing to be fully sure if they were about to go into the battle that would determine humanity's future.  
  
" _Yeah,_ " Dean replied. " _Well, as okay as I can be considering the circumstances anyway._ "  
  
Michael could understand that sentiment entirely and while he would like to be able to tell his bond brother that everything would be okay, he couldn't lie to Dean like that no matter how normal of a custom that seemed to be among humans. The warmth he got from his vessel told him that he'd made the right decision.  
  
Now sure that his little one was okay, Michael opened his eyes only to find three pairs of stunned eyes looking back at him. Oh, that was right, he'd never been in Dean, much less taken his true vessel in front of them before.  
  
"Holy shit!" Bobby exclaimed.  
  
"Yeah," Gwen echoed faintly, much to Michael's confusion.  
  
Surely it wasn't  _that_  shocking.  
  
" _The two of them have never seen an angel change vessel before,_ " Dean explained. " _Nor has Gwen witnessed someone she knows as an angel or a vessel become the other._ "  
  
" _I see,_ " Michael replied before speaking aloud. "Sorry if I startled you, but it was imperative that I join with Dean as quickly as possible as the taking of a new vessel can be quite taxing."  
  
"How do you feel, Brother?" Raphael asked.  
  
"I am surprisingly well. I only need a few more minutes to be fully recovered."  
  
"It gets faster every time," Castiel commented and Michael could feel his little brother reaching for Dean across their mating bond.  
  
"Uh, is Dean alright?" Sam questioned and Michael could  _feel_  the complex mix of emotions that welled up in his vessel at the mere sound of his brother's voice.  
  
"Yes, Dean is fine and fully conscious," Michael replied.  
  
"This is going to take some getting used to," Gwen commented, shaking her head a little. "Especially that."  
  
Michael followed her pointed finger and found that Raziel had placed Deirdre Winchester's body in one of the soft, high-backed chairs. He could understand that it made her uncomfortable, but they had more important things to deal with now.  
  
" _Michael, Brother, I know that you can hear me,_ " Lucifer's voice suddenly echoed through his head once more. " _Are you such a coward that you won't come to face me? Go get your little pet if you must, but otherwise I'll just keep killing your precious humans and I know that he won't like that._ "  
  
If the situation weren't so dire, Michael would have laughed at the way that Dean's whole soul rippled in indignation and affront at being called a pet. Castiel was right, his little one could be extremely adorable at times.  
  
" _He's trying to bait you into going to him without me,_ " Dean said.  
  
" _Yes. He knows from his time with Sam how powerful that you will make me and while arrogant, he would prefer that I don't have the advantage this time._ "  
  
" _Well tough for him. He's about to discover that I'm the Winchester brother that he really should have paid more attention too._ "  
  
" _I'm sure that he's already regretted not killing you far sooner._ "  
  
" _Good._ "  
  
Despite all of his vessel's bravado, Michael could easily detect how well aware of the situation that Dean was so he didn't fear that his little one was taking things too lightly.  
  
"So do we have a plan or do we just go in Winchester style?" Raziel asked glibly and it was only from Dean's reassurance that Michael could be certain that his brother was utilizing a human defense mechanism as well.  
  
"I've already alerted the garrisons," Castiel responded. "They will be ready shortly."  
  
"Some of our original plans still apply," Gwen pointed out. "We'll just need to adjust them slightly."  
  
" _Michael, are you too afraid to face me now, Brother?_ " Lucifer taunted.  
  
"I suggest that we-" Bobby began only to be cut off by the ringing of a phone.  
  
" _Oh, that's mine,_ " Dean said. " _It's in the left front pocket._ "  
  
Michael reached for the cell phone and pulled it out. A quick glance at the screen told him that it was Crowley calling.  
  
" _Just say exactly what I say,_ " Dean instructed.  
  
"I hope you're ready, cupcake, because I think it's show time," Crowley stated as soon as Michael opened the phone.  
  
"Yeah, I know," Michael replied, mimicking exactly the pitch and tone of his vessel's voice. "Are you ready?"  
  
"Like I told you-"  
  
"No, time's up, like you said. It's show time so it's in your best interest to incite a rebellion now as this battle will decide if you become Lucy's personal plaything or not, Crowley."  
  
With that Michael did as Dean instructed and hung up the phone, feeling strangely exhilarated to do so. A glance up, though, showed that his little one's family were far too stunned at his perfect imitation of Dean's voice to share in his emotions.  
  
" _You're too afraid to face me after what happened in the cage, aren't you, Michael?_ " Lucifer laughed. " _I told you that Father doesn't care for us. All he cares about are his precious little humans. The rest of us are nothing but expendable pawns to him._ "  
  
" _You know that's not true, Mike,_ " Dean declared vehemently as Michael shuddered at the words. " _Don't you listen to him. He's just trying to wear you down._ "  
  
Michael would have loved to just leave it at that and allow his vessel to think that was really what had bothered him about Lucifer's taunt, but it would be a lie and they couldn't have that between them now of all times. Besides, if he couldn't confide in Dean, his bond brother and one true vessel, then who could he confide in?  
  
" _That is not it, Little One, it is his reference to our time together in the cage that bothers me,_ " Michael admitted. " _It... was not a good time for me._ "  
  
A wave of sympathy and understanding washed over Michael and he simply basked in it, not needing any words for them to understand each other exactly.  
  
" _Come, join me, Brother, and together we can remake this world to what it once was before the plague of humanity was unleashed upon it and us,_ " Lucifer tempted.  
  
" _You know, he sounds exactly like some cheesy movie bad guy,_ " Dean commented.  
  
"Michael?" Castiel questioned, touching his shoulder.  
  
"Sorry," Michael replied, looking up and realizing that he'd lost track of time. "Lucifer is attempting to get me to join him."  
  
Sam laughed. "He really doesn't know you very well, does he? Which is weird as he really feels that he does, despite the fact that you continued to reject him."  
  
"His delusions are such that he can't even see how far that he's fallen," Raphael explained. "Reality and truth have become completely warped for him."  
  
" _But, if not, then I'll just do it myself,_ " Lucifer continued. " _Did you know that they send their children in groups abroad to visit places like this?_ "  
  
" _Mike!_ " Dean cried out, horror flashing through them both.  
  
"We need to leave now," Michael stated, interrupting the ongoing planning. "Castiel, alert the garrisons and bring the humans. Raphael, Raziel, with me."  
  
With that, Michael took to flight, knowing that Castiel would be able to take care of all the garrison deployments. Gwen was right in that they'd be able to use a lot of their original plans if they adjusted them slightly. Much as he was still tempted to look into and organize the various garrisons' orders, that was no longer his job. Castiel was in charge of Heaven now and was doing an excellent job of it. No, his and Dean's task in this battle couldn't be clearer. They had to take care of Lucifer and ensure that his brother couldn't harm anyone ever again. While the self-proclaimed devil would still possess the power of a minor angel, Lucifer would be easily restrained at that point. If they managed to achieve that, then they were to turn their attention to Simiel if she was still alive at that point.  
  
Raziel and Raphael's job were to remain near him and Dean and to defend them against all other attacks. The thought of his brothers risking their lives for him grated on Michael as he knew that it did on his vessel as well, but if they couldn't be free to deal with Lucifer, then everyone would be in danger for far longer.  
  
Arriving at Sabratha, Michael set them down a ways outside of the main ruins, knowing that Lucifer would be able to sense his presence, which should serve as enough of a distraction to ensure the children's safety.  
  
" _Fuck,_ " Dean muttered as they took in their surroundings and Michael was tempted to agree.  
  
To the left was a chaotic flood of panicked tourists and site workers, all of whom were desperately attempting to flee the area. Their panic and terror were leaving them wide open for demonic possession, though, as evidenced by the large number of them that suddenly froze and turned around or vanished only to reappear in the middle of the veritable bloodbath to their right.  
  
"Raphael, alert Castiel, make sure he's got a garrison to cover the evacuation, we need to make it as hard as possible for Lucifer to get more demons into the area," Michael ordered.  
  
"Michael, over there," Raziel said, pointing.  
  
On the far right, past the carnage of a terror-stricken evacuation and the results of thousands upon thousands of demons unleashed in the same area to attack and pillage at will, was Simiel. She was deep in the ruins and, as promised, had what appeared to be a busful of children with her, some of which were already dead.  
  
" _I'm going to kill her and Lucifer,_ " Dean swore, rage flashing through him.  
  
" _No, we're not,_ " Michael replied, forcing the anger down as neither of them could use it just now. " _We're going to do something that they will find infinitely worse; namely reduce them to the lowest of all angels._ "  
  
" _Doesn't feel like enough._ "  
  
" _Trust me, Little One, for them it will be._ "  
  
Apparently that had been the right thing to say as Michael could feel his vessel calming from the furious unthinking rage that had gripped Dean upon seeing the dead children. Slowly reason took hold instead and Michael turned to assess the situation even as he felt the arrival of the first garrison. A cry of rage and hate rose among the demons as they were forced to abandon their easy prey for a foe.  
  
" _Wait,_ " Dean said as Michael finished his sweep of the area. " _Where's Lucifer?_ "  
  
" _He's not here,_ " Michael replied, angrily. " _I should have guessed that he would do this._ "  
  
" _I'm disappointed, Michael,_ " Lucifer sent. " _Too afraid to face me alone?_ "  
  
Dean growled. " _As if he can speak of cowardice!_ "  
  
" _Send away your demons and Simiel, and I shall send away our brothers and sisters,_ " Michael replied evenly, knowing it was futile but needing to at least make the offer.  
  
" _Think about what you're doing, Brother, wasting the lives of our brethren for this human filth!_ "  
  
" _Do not try to put their pain and deaths upon me, Lucifer. It is you who started this conflict and it is you who can end it._ "  
  
" _Not as long as there is a human alive and drawing breath._ "  
  
" _It won't work,_ " Dean said softly. " _He's spent far too long doing nothing but nursing his hatred and self-righteousness._ "  
  
" _I had to try,_ " Michael replied and he knew that his vessel understood that need only all too well. " _Are you ready?_ "  
  
" _As I'll ever be._ "  
  
Unfortunately that was probably the best that any of them could say so Michael looked first at Raphael and then at Raziel, both of whom nodded to him which was all of the communication that was needed. They had been here before, the three of them, along with others who hadn't made it out of that particular battle alive, and here they stood again, ready to face the same foe. Only this time, with the Righteous Man's soul burning unbelievably bright and strong within his Grace, Michael felt that things would be different. Dean definitely had a good track record when it came to this kind of confrontation.  
  
" _Dude, don't put it all on me or anything,_ " Dean complained.  
  
It wasn't quite as self-deprecating as what he'd used to feel from his little one, so at first Michael was glad of that. Therefore it took a little longer than it otherwise would have for him to realize that he hadn't voiced his initial thought, which meant that Dean had acquired the knowledge of it through other means. His vessel seemed to realize the same thing.  
  
" _Crap, oh well, leave it for later,_ " Dean instructed.  
  
" _But-_ " Michael began, strangely drawn to the mystery and the _unknown, inexplicable_  aspect of it.  
  
" _Priorities, Mike. Like dead ahead._ "  
  
His vessel was right, Michael acknowledged, looking at his sister who was staring back at him across the battlefield, ignoring the carnage going on all around them. It didn't mean that he had to like it, though, and he just  _knew_ that it was a sign of something important, the way that they seemed to keep merging more and more. He could only hope that it wasn't a negative portent as they could ill afford another one.  
  


* * *

  
The more that Lucifer thought about the lack of his true vessel for this confrontation, the angrier that he got. Though a far closer relation to Sam than his first vessel had been, this one was still an ill fit, constricting his true power and chafing in various unpleasant ways. All of which was made that much worse for the fact that he'd now had his true vessel and therefore knew the difference. Thinking of all the ways that he would make Sam suffer once he got him back soothed him a little but it wasn't nearly enough for the inconvenience of wearing such an ill-fitting vessel. Nor of having had to put up with its pathetic soul for the brief period of time that he'd kept it with him before he'd just burned it out of existence.  
  
The anger was good for at least one thing though and that was for increasing the potency of his potion. Lucifer couldn't help but smile as he looked down at the thick, blood red solution. Simiel had been preparing it for him for months, slowly gathering or raising each ingredient necessary. It had been a painstakingly slow process though it did have its highlights, like harvesting the blood of the antichrist's descendants. That had pleased him greatly as it had been yet another use to him of his demons. The presence of the demonic would also make it so much more painful for Michael and, therefore, Dean.  
  
The latter in particular pleased Lucifer as he felt that the human couldn't suffer enough for all that he had done. It was part of why he'd hoped that Michael wouldn't take his true vessel to face him, because then he'd have been able to take his time with Dean afterwards and make the human watch as he claimed Sam as his vessel once more and destroyed humanity. The added bonus there was that he could have tortured Sam with Dean's pain as well, which would have been perfect. But he had a backup plan for precisely this scenario and that was to go back in time to watch each and every moment of the Righteous Man's time in Hell.  
  
Although Lucifer despised his demons in general, there were a few that had been either particularly useful or amusing and Alastair had been one of those. It would not be as satisfying as breaking Father's Righteous Man himself, but it would do, especially knowing that in breaking as he had, that Dean Winchester had been instrumental in setting him free. As for Sam, well, given how his true vessel had reacted to seeing his brother beaten, he could only imagine how much fury and hurt that Sam would feel at seeing his big brother taken repeatedly against his will by a demon. And, knowing Alastair, taken in true demonic form and in various ways that the human mind couldn't even conceive of.  
  
With that pleasant thought, Lucifer turned his focus back to the potion bubbling gently before him.  
  
" _They have joined the battle, Brother,_ " Simiel sent.  
  
" _Then it is time,_ " Lucifer replied.  
  
Quickly he sprinkled the tears of a child shed in agony into the potion. Although it pleased him to know how much this spell would hurt the Righteous Man, the fact that it would do the same to his older brother was another thing altogether. No matter how much Michael opposed him or how much his brother hurt and betrayed him, he would never be pleased with a sibling's pain. He had started this  _for_  them after all; to keep them from needing to debase themselves before Father's pathetic little mud monkeys. His brothers and sisters deserved better than that and it pained him greatly to have to fight them like this.  
  
But he would, he really would. Just because they couldn't see it now didn't mean that they wouldn't once he'd cleansed the Earth and returned it to its former glory. Then they would see.  
  
With a thought, Lucifer removed his vessel's shirt before dipping his fingers into the potion. "For power, strength, victory and the lack thereof for those who stand against me."  
  
The final command spoken, Lucifer began to paint his vessel and wings with the glyphs and sigils needed to perform the spell that Simiel had designed especially for him. She'd been diligently working on it for millennia, working out permutations during her time imprisoned. Her cage had been located away from his and closer to the surface of Hell so the brothers and sisters who had chosen to follow him had been able to reach her even if they'd been unable to free her.  
  
That unjust imprisonment had merely fueled his little sister's rage and Lucifer wooed anyone who dared cross her now. How Father and Michael had ever thought that imprisoning her would ever do anything other than harden her resolve he didn't know, but think so they had. Or at least someone had based on the occasional Heavenly visits she'd gotten, inquiring if she'd realized the error of her ways yet and was willing to repent.  
  
No one who truly knew her could ever think that locking her up and throwing away the key would  _ever_  entice her to betray her allegiances in order to follow them.  
  
The only drawback to Simiel's spell was that it could only be performed once per preparation. The power boosting requirements were simply far too massive for him to be able to perform it a second time. Lucifer didn't think that he'd need it more than once, though. Not only was Michael his only true opponent, but once his big brother had fallen (and the Righteous Man with him), then he doubted many would dare stand before him.  
  
Well, other than Castiel of course. Lucifer sneered at the mere thought of the bond that the former little seraph had made with his most hated human, but he had learned his lesson with Raziel. If his fellow archangel, normally so level-headed and rational, couldn't control himself upon losing a bond mate that had sought her own death, then he surely couldn't expect so emotional a creature as Castiel to do so either. Even before the Apocalypse, his brother had been a bit odd, always so fascinated by humanity and their frailty.  
  
Yet even knowing that, Lucifer would never have seen this abomination of a bonding coming. It was so utterly unthinkable and he remembered well how shocked and revolted he'd been at hearing that first time that some of his brothers had not only lain with humans, but reproduced with them as well. It hadn't even seemed like a possibility to him before that moment. But Castiel had taken it even further just like the odd brother or sister of his had over the millennia and  _bonded_  with one. After that it was of little surprise to him that his brother's behavior had become so erratic and atrocious, what with a human  _soul_  polluting Castiel's very Grace.  
  
The backs of his wings were harder to reach, but Lucifer was determined. This was Michael after all and he knew intimately how powerful his brother was. Michael was the only one who came close to being able to keep up with him and if he was honest, he might actually come to miss having that challenge. It only served to deepen his anger, the reminder of exactly what his brother was making him do.


	203. Chapter 202

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Battle of Sabratha begins...

PRESENT  
  
  
Simiel felt the lips of her vessel pull down as if tugged by invisible strings as she recognized Raziel standing beside Michael and Raphael. So, the demon's psychic had been right, another archangel had reappeared to join Michael's side. Miriel, one of her few remaining sisters who had joined Lucifer had said that Raziel hadn't been seen in millennia. She'd thought him dead or insane after Jophiel's death but clearly she'd been mistaken. She didn't expect that he would view his bond mate's death as purely Jophiel's own fault. Lucifer hadn't  _wanted_  to kill her, he had in fact given Jophiel ample opportunities and time to lay down her weapon unharmed, but she had refused and instead fought on, forcing their older brother's hand.  
  
Instead of joy, Raziel's presence now only filled Simiel with frustration and regret for what he was about to force her or Lucifer to do. In the end it mattered little to their plans, though, and would merely complicate matters slightly, but she was sure that she could manage. And if not, her brother had plenty of cannon fodder about that would suit perfectly as a distraction if needed.  
  
The arrival of Heaven's garrisons didn't surprise Simiel so much as it annoyed and displeased her. There they were, all those brothers and sisters of hers that were so much better than the creatures that Father had betrayed them for. She just didn't understand it. How could they be loyal to someone who had cast them aside as if they were both expendable and replaceable? How could they continue to follow Him so blindly?  
  
 _She_  was Loyalty and even she didn't get it. To be loyal was to be true, but not in the face of complete, utter and outright betrayal. Simiel had tried to understand it before and had failed, so now it was no more than a passing thought. Her own loyalties had always lain with her older brother Lucifer who had been her closest sibling from the day of her creation and, unlike their Father, he had never given her any reason to question or doubt her unfailing commitment to him.  
  
" _Simiel,_ " Lucifer sent. " _Is that Raziel whose presence that I sense?_ "  
  
" _Yes, it is, Brother, and before you ask, he is standing with Michael,_ " Simiel replied. " _I will take care of him._ "  
  
" _Very well, but then let the demons help with Raphael._ "  
  
" _I can handle it, Lucifer._ "  
  
" _Do not forget that Castiel will also be close by, Sister. He always is when Dean Winchester was involved, even before they bonded._ "  
  
The contempt and disgust in her brother's voice as he spoke of the abominable connection perfectly matched Simiel's own feelings on the matter. Even having to inhabit the shell of a human was enough to make her feel soiled if she thought about it too closely. She couldn't imagine actually touching one voluntarily, forget entirely about actually  _bonding_  with it. If it wasn't with Michael right now, she'd take a lot of pleasure in tearing it apart for daring to have ruined her naive little brother so thoroughly. Unlike any of the others, there was no hope for Castiel and all that there was left to do was to put him down.  
  
It wouldn't even grieve Simiel to do as he was no longer a brother of hers or even an angel at all anymore, not with how Castiel had chosen to pollute his very Grace. In fact, it would be her pleasure to finally end his ruin.  
  
Like putting down any other creature that had lost its way, much as Father had done with the Great Flood.  
  
In that way Simiel was almost looking forward to being able to end the thing that had once been one of her little brothers. It was a last act of filial obligation that she could perform in memory of what he had once been.  
  


* * *

  
From the moment that Michael had vanished with Dean, Bobby had been ready to go,  _needing_  to follow the boy into battle as he just couldn't stand to not be there with his favorite Winchester. Castiel, however, had needed to do a few things and it had been all that he could do not to snap at the idjit angel.  
  
Only the knowledge that Castiel loved and cared for Dean more than even he could possibly comprehend stilled his tongue, but it was difficult. The knowledge that arguing would only slow things down helped a little, but he still wasn't used to just standing around and waiting while one of the boys was in trouble. It grated on his nerves and he wasn't the only one.  
  
"Sam," Gwen warned when the youngest Winchester looked like he was going to step up to where Castiel stood stock still once more.  
  
"I can't do it any longer!" Sam exclaimed.  
  
"Interrupting Cas right now won't help."  
  
"But I have to do something!"  
  
"Do you have everything that you need?" Bobby questioned. "Knife, gun, shotgun, ammo?"  
  
"Yes, dammit, Bobby! I'm not some dumb rookie," Sam snapped.  
  
"No, but you're not exactly thinking straight right now either," Gwen countered calmly.  
  
"My brother's out there facing Lucifer! You weren't there the last time, you didn't see what Lucifer did to him."  
  
"He's got Michael with him this time," Bobby reasoned, trying desperately not to think of all of the blood that he'd found about when he'd been resurrected the last time.  
  
"Yeah, so now he'll really want to kill Dean," Sam retorted.  
  
"Yeah, well, Raziel and Raphael are there too," Gwen pointed out. "And we all know that if Dean were already in trouble that the absolute last thing that Cas would be doing right now would be just standing there."  
  
That seemed to finally get through to Sam and the boy calmed, for which Bobby was grateful. It hadn't been doing anything for his own nerves even if it served as a suitable distraction. Glancing at his own supplies, he cursed as he realized what was missing.  
  
"The water guns!" Bobby muttered, dashing to the weapons room.  
  
The unexpectedness of it all had led him, and clearly the others, to just grab their usual weapons on autopilot, forgetting their newest one. Bobby still couldn't believe that he was taking a kid's toy (though colored an acceptable navy blue) into a full-scale battle, yet at the same time he couldn't believe that he hadn't thought of it himself. It just made so much sense after Dean had first described it. As he grabbed all of them, he couldn't help but smile at the memory of the neon pink one that Dean had bought Gwen in jest. She'd really tried to kick his ass for that little stunt during their next sparring match, but she just hadn't quite managed it, even with that as an incentive.  
  
"I'll get the extra Holy water," Sam said as he entered the room.  
  
"Good," Bobby muttered as Gwen helped him load their guns.  
  
By the time that they were done, so was Castiel, for which Bobby was ever so grateful.  
  
"So what's the situation?" Sam demanded.  
  
"Not good," Castiel replied gravely. "I shall put you down behind the first garrison. They are attempting to cover the retreat of the humans who were in the area. You should be able to help achieve that far better than my brothers and sisters can."  
  
"What? No, I want to help fight!" Sam exclaimed.  
  
"Sam-" Gwen began.  
  
"The faster we get the humans out, the less of them that can be possessed," Castiel interrupted. "And so the less demons that Lucifer has as well as the more people saved or a lower body count. No matter how you look at it, that  _is_  helping."  
  
"We'll do it," Bobby stated before Sam could argue.  
  
It might not have sunk in for the idjit boy just yet, but Bobby had never been under any illusions whatsoever as to his position or ability to help in this particular battle. Not with the scale of it this time and all of the angels and demons that would be involved. It was almost enough to make him question the logic of even attempting to help out, but it just wasn't in him not to do so.  
  
"Bobby-" Sam protested.  
  
"Shut up, ya idjit. Do you want to get there or not?"  
  
Sam's mouth snapped shut at that and Bobby nodded once at Castiel as he took Gwen's hand. "Let's go."  
  
"Prepare yourselves, I've been told that it's not pretty," Castiel replied as he reached out to touch Bobby and Sam.  
  
"Is a battle ever?" Gwen asked just before the world vanished around them.  
  


* * *

  
Castiel had briefed all of his garrison leaders on their battle plans before Lucifer had forced their hand and altered the location of the battle, but it meant that they were all well aware of what the archangels had originally had in mind. Therefore he'd only needed to inform them of the alterations that he wished them to make to their strategy.  
  
Still, it had taken far longer than Castiel would have liked even though he knew from Michael that Lucifer had yet to actually arrive on site. Just the knowledge that his bond mate was out there already and he wasn't was enough to make him anxious and want to be there at his beloved's side. It got to the point where he wished that he wasn't the Sheriff of Heaven and only had to worry about himself and Dean, but he knew he couldn't do that. Besides, then he'd probably be worrying about their backup.  
  
As they approached, Castiel took great care to select a spot well away from any immediate fighting to put down his friends. Sam might not like it, but he knew that it was better if they had a few moments to orient themselves before needing to fend off any demons. He knew that he'd made the right decision when he saw the looks of pure and utter shock that crossed their faces as they took in the chaos all around them.  
  
"We need to get all of the humans out that way," Castiel informed them, pointing towards the best exit road. "And the heaviest part of the fighting is that way."  
  
"Where's Lucifer?" Sam demanded.  
  
"We don't need to worry about him, Sam," Gwen tried.  
  
"I want to know."  
  
Castiel regarded his brother-in-law (he believed that was the correct human phrase) for a moment before relenting. "Lucifer has apparently not yet arrived, but Dean and Michael are over there."  
  
His bond mate was easily visible as his brothers had chosen the highest ground around to make their initial assessment of the situation. Castiel felt that it was just another sign of Lucifer's continued arrogance that his brother hadn't already had it claimed before their arrival, even if it was pretty small and not the best place for a command post that he'd ever seen.  
  
"What's with all of the angel blades?" Bobby asked, pointing towards angels that had them out but were exorcising demons with their bare hands.  
  
"I have instructed all of my brothers and sisters to have them out," Castiel explained. "That way you can more easily see who is an angel and who isn't as only strong demons can pick up and wield an angelic blade."  
  
"Oh, okay, good thinking," Gwen said.  
  
"Go," Sam urged and Castiel worried that his hesitance had been too obvious. "Go help Dean, we'll be good here."  
  
Castiel only waited long enough to check that Bobby and Gwen agreed with Sam's sentiment before flying off.  
  


* * *

  
"I'll get the children out," Raziel stated looking over at him.  
  
"Good, I will cover Michael's back," Raphael replied, glad not to have to deal with the terrified and traumatized children.  
  
He would have had he needed to, as Raphael knew how important they were, but he had no experience with human children. He found the adults difficult enough to understand and he'd been told that children were even more trying due to their immature minds not yet having formed properly. One of his sisters had told him that the logic of human children was whimsical at best.  
  
"Is Lucifer still calling to you, Mike?" Raziel inquired.  
  
"No, he has stopped," Michael replied before taking to flight.  
  
Raphael and Raziel instantly followed, though they split from their older brother's path just before landing. The crying children screamed upon their sudden arrival and he winced at the sound and the sight of the blood on the dead ones.  
  
"This is completely unacceptable, Simiel," Michael thundered. "They were innocent and helpless."  
  
"They were human, that is reason enough," Simiel shot back.  
  
"Come here," Raphael told the children in Arabic, gesturing for them to crowd behind him while Raziel took the first few to safety.  
  
The sudden disappearance of his brother with some of their number clearly frightened and unnerved them, but faced with the choice between him and Simiel, they clearly decided to take their chances with him as they rushed to hide behind him, huddling together. Movement to his left drew his attention towards the demons that were circling the ruins and he materialized his blade, hoping that it would be enough to hold them at bay until Raziel had successfully taken all of the children to safety. It left him only partially able to keep an eye on Michael, but without Lucifer's presence, he knew that his older brother could keep an eye on his surroundings as well as Simiel.  
  
Besides, Raphael knew that Dean would never forgive him if he sacrificed the children's lives in order to watch his bond brother's back.  
  
The screaming of the children told Raphael that Raziel was back and he glanced over quickly to see his brother just grabbing hold of as many children as he could and flying off with them rather than attempting to calm them first. It was probably for the best as he doubted that Raziel would be successful in reassuring them, not with what had already happened and all of the carnage transpiring all around them.  
  
Two particularly daring or stupid demons attempted to sneak in behind him and Raphael whirled around to face them. The first he skewered on the end of his sword, while he pressed his palm to the forehead of the second, easily burning it out of existence. He saw little need to waste time banishing the demons back to Hell as that would only leave them free to work their way out in the future to terrorize and attack humanity again at a later date. No, it was far better to just destroy them entirely and ensure that they could never harm anyone ever again.  
  
The next time that Raziel returned, his brother was accompanied by two of their sisters and together they managed to gather the last of the children so Raphael turned all of his attention back to Michael and Simiel.  
  


* * *

  
"Jesus," Bobby swore as he had a brief moment to look around.  
  
Not for the first time since arriving was he seriously wondering what in God's name he'd been thinking when deciding that coming here was a good idea. The whole place was a veritable war zone.  
  
An angelic and demonic warzone.  
  
With all of the power and might that the other participants had, it was a miracle that he was even still alive at all no matter that he hadn't even been here all that long. Despite that, Bobby had already lost track of the number of times that he'd nearly been killed since arriving. It was all just a blur of fighting and for each demon that he managed to drive off, another ten seemed to take its place. At first he, Sam and Gwen had tag-teamed the demons trying to chase after the fleeing tourists, but he'd gotten separated from the others five or ten minutes ago. He wasn't quite sure how it had happened, but one minute they'd been back to back and the next he'd looked over his shoulder to find them gone. He was trying to find Sam and Gwen again, but it seemed that every time that he turned around he was faced with yet another demon determined to kill him.  
  
"Eat this," Bobby growled, pumping the demon trying to disembowel him full of rock salt.  
  
The black-eyed son of a bitch was flung back with the force of the shot and Bobby used the opportunity to put his back up against the nearest crumbling wall. Able to catch his breath, he used the shelter to reload his shotgun from his rapidly dwindling supply of rock salt rounds. He'd already used the last of his Holy water to refill his water gun for the last time, though he'd resisted firing it, preferring to leave it in case of emergency. Which would be pretty damn soon if things kept up at this rate.  
  
"Hunter!"  
  
The call came from his left and Bobby turned to find a quartet of demons standing just a short distance away. Although he didn't recognize their meatsuits, there was nonetheless something vaguely familiar about them and he frowned as he tried to work out why, especially with how distracting the leftmost female one was. The memory failed to come to him until the demon at the other end of the row spoke once more.  
  
"I am legion, for we are many."  
  
Oh shit. That was Envy.  
  
Which meant that the others had to be Lust, Wrath and Sloth.  
  
He was so screwed.


	204. Chapter 203

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam starts to realize just how big the battle really is.

**PRESENT**  
  
  
"Gwen, have you seen Bobby again?" Sam asked when he managed to catch his breath for long enough to actually speak.  
  
"Not since we lost him," Gwen replied, putting her back to his and glancing around.  
  
Sam cursed and tried desperately to find the older hunter in the sea of fighting bodies all around them. The flood of fleeing tourists had finally petered off after what felt like forever but for the occasional straggler which meant that everyone had either gotten away or been possessed. He hoped for the latter, but feared the former. Now that he was actually here, on the ground, he could get what Castiel had been saying about needing to ensure that as many people got out as possible. Sure, he'd understood it intellectually before as Dean had always driven home the need to save people those few times when his own priorities had taken an unfortunate turn away from that, but being here and seeing with his own two eyes what they were up against drove the point home in a totally different way.  
  
Even as it was, with as many people who'd escaped as there had, Sam knew that he couldn't really dwell on the numbers. Not even with the garrisons that Castiel had managed to bring along. They were simply too mindboggling and incomprehensible for him. Not to mention what it could do for his morale if he tried to start calculating the odds of survival. Well, for everyone who was human other than him anyway. Not that his chances of remaining free were particularly good if things went bad.  
  
"Heads up," Gwen warned and Sam looked up to see another group of demons moving in on their location.  
  
His cousin used the opportunity to spray them all with Holy water but that only worked for a little while, though it did give Sam enough time to fire and reload his shotgun. When the demons got close, though, it became less practical and he let it drop to hang by its harness around his shoulder and pulled out his demon-killing knife instead, glad to be able to actually kill the demons instead of merely making them uncomfortable or forcing them to flee their chosen meatsuits. It just felt like he was accomplishing more even if they'd been able to exorcise quite a few of them a while back.  
  
"Back," Gwen shouted and shoved him forwards.  
  
Briefly Sam was confused before he remembered that for her that would be back. Then the flashing of a blade made him twist away just in time, though he felt the weapon catch on his shirt and the strap of his shotgun. By the time he'd rolled to his feet and looked around for it, the gun was gone and he cursed. They really couldn't afford to lose any of their weapons just now, especially not the only one that allowed him to injure or drive off the demons from a distance. Not that proximity was a problem in this particular case. Rather the opposite in fact.  
  
"I hate demons," Sam declared, making Gwen laugh.  
  


* * *

  
Raziel was on his way back to Michael and Raphael when he caught sight of two of his siblings being overwhelmed by a veritable swarm of demons. As if that wasn't bad enough, he could also see one of his fallen brothers approaching the faltering pair as well. Knowing that the situation couldn't end well and feeling the anguish from his sister as their brother was disarmed and vanished under the nearest demons, he flew down towards them. There was no way that he was going to let any of his siblings experience the agony of losing a bond mate to death if he could help it.  
  
His surprise arrival meant that Raziel was able to kill several of the demons before they even knew what had happened. That was enough to free his captured brother before their fallen sibling was on them. As the more powerful of the three of them, Raziel took him, leaving the demons to his brother and sister.  
  
"Raziel," the fallen angel sneered.  
  
"Surprise," Raziel replied, knowing that word of his absence would have spread among angelic ranks and eventually made its way to those of his brothers and sisters who'd chosen to side with Lucifer and been forced from Heaven as a result.  
  
"You should have stayed away, Brother."  
  
"What, and missed out on all of the fun? Wouldn't dream of it."  
  
Just as Raziel had hoped, his flippant and human remarks served to make his brother angry enough to rush into an uncoordinated and frenzied attack that he easily parried. The next manoeuvre of his brother was just as predictable and easy to avoid as the first and he nearly sighed, wondering at the arrogance of his brother in thinking that he could take on an archangel single-handedly.  
  
"You can't win," Raziel stated calmly. "Surrender and repent and you shall be allowed back into Heaven."  
  
His brother sneered. "Not until the humans have been removed from it."  
  
Eyes narrowing, Raziel switched from defensive to offensive and soon had his brother on the retreat, demons scattering from their path. The moment that his brother stumbled as his foot hit one of the stones from the ruins, Raziel leapt forward, disarming his brother and forcing him to the ground, his blade at the fallen angel's throat.  
  
"Do you surrender and repent?" Raziel demanded, already fearing that he knew the answer.  
  
"Never!" his brother declared. "I will  _never_  bow down to humanity!"  
  
"You were ordered to protect and look after them."  
  
"We were displaced by them."  
  
Raziel's lips narrowed into a thin line as he realized that he was going to have to kill his brother. He'd known that it would come to this once more, but he'd desperately hoped that he'd be able to avoid it. They'd already lost enough angels during the Rebellion itself.  
  
"Michael!"  
  
Lucifer's shout interrupted Raziel's thoughts and hardened his resolve as he realized that the real battle was about to begin.  
  
"This is your last chance," Raziel tried one last time.  
  
Instead of replying, his fallen brother tried to shove him back with his power. With regret, Raziel stabbed downwards with his blade, killing his brother instantly. He forced himself to look as the light of Grace flared outwards one last time before vanishing forever, leaving nothing but the scarred imprint of blackened wings behind.  
  


* * *

  
Lust had to be the female on the right Bobby knew, as it explained his inability to draw his eyes from her form for more than a few moments at a time. And for the first time since the whole Ruby fiasco, he felt that he could finally understand some of what had driven Sam and he hoped to God that this would be his first and last time being attracted to one of those black-eyed sons of bitches.  
  
The shabbiness of one of the middle demons made it easily identifiable as Sloth, which meant that the other male meatsuit in the middle of their little row had to be Wrath. Bobby wondered if Envy's position as far away from Lust as she could be was deliberate and due to jealousy. The thought was irrelevant and nothing but a distraction, so he shoved it aside as he tried to think of a way out of this mess.   
  
Bobby knew from his previous encounter with the, then, seven deadly sins that these were no ordinary demons (and who'd have thought just a few short years ago that he'd ever think of  _any_  demon as ordinary?!) and a challenge even for the best of hunters when working together as a team. He really didn't stand a chance against one of them alone like this, let alone all four at once. Unfortunately it didn't seem like he had a choice in the matter. Oh well, if he had to go down fighting demons, these at least were a good set of demons to fall to.  
  
"What? Didn't get enough before?" Bobby asked as he pumped his shotgun. "Or were you looking to join your missing friends?"  
  
"You will pay for what you did to them!" Wrath snarled viciously. "And once we're done with you, we'll go find the other hunters that were with you."  
  
"Good luck with that," Bobby smiled tightly. "One's Michael's vessel and with him just now and the other's Lucifer's vessel and somehow I doubt that the big boss would take kindly to you messing with him."  
  
Wrath's eyes narrowed dangerously and Bobby knew that he would be the one that he'd have to watch most closely. Not that he'd really expected anything else, what with it being Wrath and all.  
  
"Then we'll just have to take our time with you then, won't we?" Envy decided. "I'm sure we can make you last for a while if we really wanted to."  
  
Bobby fired without any warning, watching the smug smile vanish from Envy's face as she took the blast full in the chest, going over with a scream. His second shot he fired at Wrath, both because he was closest to Envy and because he was probably the biggest threat of the lot of them. It wasn't until Lust was suddenly right before him that he realized his mistake. Dean had warned him about the strength of her power but he hadn't really believed the boy, thinking that Dean's seemingly insatiable sex drive had been more responsible for that than anything else, but damn if he didn't feel himself trying to remember just why he shouldn't drop his gun and just grab hold of her.  
  
"Come on, hunter, you know you want me," Lust cooed at him. "I'll make it better than you've ever had before."  
  
The lust clouding his mind made it hard for Bobby to think straight, but he knew that it was really important that he didn't listen to her. He couldn't quite remember  _why_ , but he just knew that it was. There was something about Dean, something the boy had said about her once. Now what was it?  
  
There were manicured fingers on his forearm, pushing his arms down and Bobby used the extra space that created between them to step forward, just to be closer to her. Her perfume wasn't familiar to him, but then he didn't get many opportunities these days to smell any as almost all female hunters steered well clear of the stuff, not wanting to give away their presence on a hunt to some creature because of how they smelled. Regardless, the scent was good, clean and floral, seeping into him and wrapping around his senses like a lover.  
  
 _Holy water!_  
  
That was what Dean had told him. Something about Holy water and Lust. Bobby fought desperately to remember even as his face was drawn forwards for a kiss and one which nearly wiped all rational thought from his mind. Luckily he could just remember that he didn't need to think any further on it as he had some Holy water left. With an extreme effort, he released his hold on his shotgun and fumbled for his water gun. Lust releasing his lips for him to breathe gave him the opportunity that he needed and he gave her a face full of Holy water.  
  
Lust shrieked and jerked back and at the same time Bobby felt like he himself was dunked into a vat of ice cold water. His senses cleared and returned to him as if he'd just woken up and he drew back himself, horrified at what had just happened and how easily she'd ensnared him, who knew what she was and what she was capable of doing to people. No wonder some of those poor smucks from Oak Parks had died from dehydration and starvation on their couch just feet away from a fully stocked kitchen after Sloth had gotten his hands on them. They hadn't stood a chance.  
  
The question was, did he?  
  


* * *

  
Dean growled in frustration as Simiel threw yet another large ruin rock at them while dancing away from their blade. She'd been pulling this crap ever since Michael had first confronted her and he, for one, had more than had enough and he was pretty sure that his bond brother had too.  
  
" _Just douse her with the potion already and we can get about denuking her,_ " Dean said.  
  
" _We can't,_ " Michael replied, his own voice a frustrated growl.  
  
" _Why the hell not? We've got enough potion for the both of them. Plus if we get her now then we won't have the distraction when Lucifer arrives. The others will be able to concentrate on dealing with the demons._ "  
  
" _Because if we do it to her first, then Lucifer will feel it and he won't show up as he'll know that we've found something that can hurt him._ "  
  
That actually was a damn good reason to not denuke Simiel just yet and it really ticked Dean off. He wanted to actually do something instead of just dancing to Simiel's tune as they currently were. At least Raph had managed to keep the rest of the kids safe while Raz got them out to safety with two other angels. That only made him feel a little better though as he could still see the bodies of the dead ones all around them. The fact that they'd been killed in several different, but all very messy ways proved that she hadn't just been doing it methodically, but had probably been enjoying herself.  
  
"Castiel!" Simiel hissed and Michael looked over and Dean saw that his husband had indeed arrived.  
  
"Simiel," Castiel replied, tone edged with the promise of violence.  
  
It sent shivers up Dean's spine, or rather it would have if he'd been in control of his own body.  
  
" _That's my brother,_ " Michael mock complained.  
  
Dean merely grinned instead of replying as his friend turned their attention back to Simiel. Absently he noticed the demons shifting around behind her, but for the most part he ignored them. None of them had tried anything so far and he was pretty sure that they had orders not to interfere unless commanded to, which wouldn't happen unless Simiel really feared for her life.  
  
Which clearly had not yet happened so far and that  _pissed Dean off_. He was essentially one with the most powerful archangel just now. That deserved some fearful respect at the very least.  
  
" _What? Like your own fearful respect when you used to face off against me?_ " Michael asked in amusement.  
  
" _Dude, that was different!_ "  
  
" _Was it?_ "  
  
" _Hell yes! I didn't really understand what it meant to be an archangel or the true power you guys have. She does._ "  
  
" _Because she is one of us archangels. For her the power difference between the two of us isn't nearly as great as you seem to think it is._ "  
  
" _Still, she clearly knows that you can kick her ass or she wouldn't be doing her best to avoid you in the first place._ "  
  
Any response that his bond brother might have made to that was cut off when there was a ripple of power all around them.  
  
"Michael!"  
  
Dean felt dread coil in the pit of his stomach as he recognized that voice despite the distortion that angelic possession gave to it. It was Christian's voice, which meant that Lucifer had finally decided to show his face.  
  
When Michael moved, turning away from Simiel to look at Lucifer, Dean was only all too well aware of how it seemed like everyone on the massive battlefield had frozen to watch them confront the devil.  
  
" _Raphael? Castiel?_ " Michael asked.  
  
" _We will make sure Simiel doesn't attack you,_ " Castiel promised fiercely and Dean took comfort in his husband's true voice.  
  
This was it then. The moment of truth as it were. The point of no return. The-  
  
Dean had to forcibly pull his mind away from the cheap clichés that it wanted to keep spouting in some desperate attempt to distract him from what was about to go down. Now that the devil was here, the real fight was about to begin as he knew that Lucifer would face them head on rather than the dancing around thing which Simiel had been doing, flinging anything and everything at them. He knew that it was because she realized that she stood no chance against them in a fair fight, but it was frustrating and annoying nonetheless. Especially after all that she had done.  
  
Truth be told, Dean was almost unsure whether he hated Simiel or Lucifer more. Once it would never have been even a question that occurred to him, but after all that Simiel had done... well now it was. Yet, despite all of that, he knew that whatever he felt for Simiel, it was absolutely nothing compared to the hate that Castiel felt for her. He'd felt a hint of it a little while back and had been shocked at the sheer strength of it and had wished desperately to be able to go back and ensure that his bond mate never had to learn that particular emotion, but the time for that was long since past.  
  
" _Michael?_ " Dean asked, feeling the veritable maelstrom of emotions swirling all around his soul.  
  
" _I'm okay,_ " Michael replied simply.  
  
" _Are you sure?_ "  
  
" _It doesn't really matter anymore, now does it?_ "  
  
" _I'm sorry that it had to come to this._ "  
  
" _I know you are, Little One, and this is not your fault. This started long before you were even created._ "  
  
Not knowing what else to say, what else anyone could say, Dean instead focused on giving his friend the soul equivalent of a hug. Then he tempered down on all of his emotions and instead tried to relax as much as possible, opening his soul up so that his bond brother could draw whatever power that Michael might need from him as easily as possible.  
  
"Lucifer," Michael acknowledged, moving towards the devil.  
  
"What? That's it, Brother? No big speeches on how I'm misguided and need to repent and that Father will take me back?" Lucifer sneered.  
  
"No, we are beyond that now. Or rather,  _you_  are beyond that now."  
  
The words shocked Dean to his very core as he knew  _exactly_  how his friend still felt about his bond brother. His first instinct was to reach out towards Michael once more, but he feared that doing so might distract his bond brother just now.  
  
"Whatever happened to Father's love being all-encompassing and His forgiveness total?" Lucifer demanded.  
  
"Father isn't here now, Lucifer, and my ability to forgive is not so absolute," Michael replied.  
  
"And what of your love?"  
  
"I never stopped loving you, Brother. Not even when I started hating you."  
  
Those words were the emotional equivalent of a bomb and Dean could tell that they'd stroke home in the shock and hurt that flashed across Lucifer's face for all to see. It was more than clear that Michael had changed quite drastically in more than one area from that reaction alone and he couldn't help but have mixed feelings about that. While he totally approved of the way that his bond brother had changed from how Michael had used to be, he knew intimately what this kind of confrontation with a brother who'd gone Dark Side could feel like and he'd know that those words would have cut his friend just as sharply as they'd cut the devil even if he weren't able to feel it for himself due to their current connection.  
  
All other thoughts vanished from Dean's mind as Lucifer's face twisted in anger before the devil flew at them with his sword.  
  



End file.
